Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,244

waiting with the travel coach to carry Julius and Bess to Everly Manor. After handing her into the carriage, Julius settled on the bench beside her.

“I have something for you.” He reached for his brown leather satchel on the opposite bench and dug inside. “I hadn’t decided when to show you, but now seems as good a time as any. Close your eyes.”

Bess smiled and followed his directions. He was always surprising her with small gifts. “What have you done now?”

“First”—he slipped a hand around the back of her neck to cradle her—“this.”

His warm lips leisurely nipped hers. Wishing to prolong the kiss, she angled her head and leaned into it. Her heart sped as the tip of his tongue teased her upper lip before he caught it gently between his teeth. He released her abruptly, and she groaned in disappointment.

“You are too distracting, love.” His chuckle was airy, as if she had stolen his breath. “Close your eyes, and keep them closed this time.”

She rolled them for good measure before complying. “Your surprise better be worth it.”

“Open.” In Julius’s palm was an oval-cut emerald ring set in gold. Six diamonds surrounded the precious gem—one diamond to represent each of her brothers.

She reached for her stepmother’s ring and frowned. “Why do you have Priscilla’s ring?”

“She gave it to me.” Julius wet his lips, revealing his nerves. “I hope you will forgive me, but I called on her yesterday. It never sat right with me, the way your father missed supper that night.”

Soon after Bess and Julius arrived in London for the Season, one of her father’s footmen delivered an invitation for a celebratory dinner party with her family. Bess had written to Priscilla after the wedding to announce the change in her marital status, and her stepmother responded promptly with felicitations from her and Bess’s father. She and Priscilla continued their correspondence throughout winter, so the invitation to dine with her family was not unexpected. Her father’s decision to miss the party came as a blow, though.

On the drive home, Julius, furious over her father’s poor treatment of Bess, had threatened to drag him from his club and force him to apologize. Bess persuaded him not to bother. She stopped hoping her father would change years ago.

Julius had known about her strained relationship with her father before their arrival in London. She’d owed Julius an explanation after her tearful reaction to his Christmas gift, so she revealed all—her father’s indifference, lack of empathy, his selfish cruelty when he destroyed her mother’s belongings.

She held her husband’s hand. “I am not angry, but I don’t understand. Why did Priscilla give you her ring?”

“I, uh…” He cleared his throat. “I told her about the cameo your father stole. How it was the only piece of your mother you’d had left. She remembered the day and vowed she tried to stop him, but she said he cannot be reasoned with when he goes on a tear.”

Bess sighed. She’d always known Priscilla tried to buffer her from the worst of it.

“She also said it wasn’t true that all your mother’s property was gone. Look at the inscription.”

Bess held the ring close to the window. Sunlight glinted off the gold, blinding for a moment, then the words took form. “Dearest Lizzie, you are the center of my world,” she murmured. Tears pricked the backs of her eyes. “This really belonged to my mother.”

“It did.” Julius pointed to the gem. “Your mother was the emerald. Surrounded by diamonds, but she outshone them all. Your stepmother said your father only ever loved your mother. She believes he gave her the ring as a reminder she could never hold his heart.”

“Poor Priscilla must regret ever marrying him.”

“She has no regrets.” Julius swept a lock of hair behind Bess’s ear. “She knew he would never love her. Her thought was for you, my love. You needed a mother, and she longed to ease the pain of your loss.”

Tears blurred her vision as the ring took on new meaning. It was a symbol of two mothers—the one she never was allowed to know, and the one who’d chosen her.

“Oh, my sweet Bess.” Julius gathered her against his chest and tucked her head beneath her chin. “Please, don’t cry. I am hopeless when you cry. I haven’t a clue about how to comfort you.”

She hugged him, chuckling through her tears. “You are doing a fine job of it nevertheless.” When at last she drew back and lifted her face, her tears were