Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,236

wanted to kiss you all evening.”

She twined her own arms around his neck and lifted to her toes. He held her securely against his chest. “I’ve wanted the same,” she admitted.

Over the last few days, Bess had come to accept that she was a woman who took risks. She always had been, even when others attempted to stifle her nature. Passion flowed through her veins, as steady and constant as the River Thames. She couldn’t change who she was any more than she could reverse the river’s current, and she refused to pretend otherwise any longer.

Julius placed a sweet kiss on her lips before releasing her. “That must satisfy us for now. Have a seat on the sofa. I said I have a gift for you.”

With a groan of protest, she dropped her arms and trudged to the sofa. “I don’t have anything to give in return.”

He opened a drawer in the side table and aimed a smile at her. “When I am with you, what more could I want?”

She rolled her eyes. “You really are a silver-tongued devil, you know. It is unfair to ladies everywhere.”

“You didn’t find me charming when we first met.”

“I was in possession of my faculties back then,” she teased. “Although I am much happier now that I’ve lost them.”

He extracted a small leather box tied with a blue ribbon from the drawer, plopped on the sofa beside her, and offer it to her as if delivering it on a serving tray.

“What is it?” She shook it gingerly next to her ear. “It sounds like metal.”

He propped his arm across the back of the sofa and crossed his ankle over his knee. “You can guess all night or open it. Your choice.”

His relaxed posture suggested he meant it. It felt strange to be afforded power to make her own decisions, and it was intoxicating. She dropped the box on her lap and captured his face for a big smacking kiss on his lips. “Thank you.”

He laughed. “You haven’t opened it yet.”

“I know.” She grasped the edge of the ribbon and untied the bow. Inside the box, lying on a bed of red velvet, was a familiar cameo set in gold.

“I saw you admiring it yesterday when the peddler came around,” he said.

Gypsies had an encampment on the far reaches of Lord Seabrook’s estate. The family had been coming for years, according to Julius, and as long as the gypsies didn’t poach on the neighbors’ property and caused no trouble in the village, Lord Seabrook saw no reason to summon the magistrate.

Bess had asked the peddler where he acquired the piece, and he’d told a fanciful tale about Caesar having gifted it to Cleopatra. When she challenged his story, he narrowed his eyes and slipped the necklace into a pocket before she could examine it.

“Do you like it?” Julius asked.

She nodded and traced the lady’s milky white profile before flipping the pendant to view the back. It was a blank oval with no engraving. In her heart, she’d known it couldn’t be her mother’s necklace. It had been years since Bess’s father had stolen the piece from her jewelry box and vowed she would never see it again. She’d dared to defy him, so he punished her by taking away the only evidence her mother once existed.

He’d destroyed her mother’s portrait and sent her clothing to charity days after her death. Years of suppressed heartache and frustration swelled beneath Bess’s breastbone. Scalding tears flooded her eyes.

Julius inhaled sharply and sat upright. “Bess, have I done something wrong?”

She shook her head, not trusting herself to speak for fear the ugliness of her past would spew from her like acid and erode the happiness of their last few days together.

He lovingly rubbed his palm in a circle on her back and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear. “Sweetheart, something has upset you. Won’t you confide in me?”

She bolted from the sofa. “It’s not you, I promise. I-I need a moment.”

The footman posted outside jumped when she burst through the door. She darted around him in her haste to escape.

Chapter Eleven

Bess hurried toward the staircase, intent upon reaching her guest chamber to regain control of herself. She kept her gaze trained on the pale green and ivory Aubusson carpets lining the corridor as she passed other guests chatting with one another away from the noisy ballroom. When she reached the great hall doorway, she tried to catch a glimpse of Gemma, but a broad shouldered gentleman with