Merry Misrule - St. Clair, Ellie Page 0,20
across with the remark, but he could tell that she sensed his unease all the same.
“Christmas spirit? Why, it’s… it’s the entire feeling of Christmas. The love that surrounds it, the sense that all is right in the world, the gifts, the fact that it was on this day a savior was born into the world.”
He searched her face, sensing the sincerity in her words.
“How can you say that, when you have lost so much yourself?”
She smiled somewhat self-consciously. “I haven’t lost much at all. My grandmother, yes, and I miss her nearly every day. But I was so fortunate to spend as much time with her as I did to learn from her about love and life and everything it holds. My parents were who they were, and the fact that my father didn’t want me, well, that says more about him than it does about me. I was but a child.”
The thought of someone rejecting her, no matter her age, caused a stirring deep within Elijah — a stirring to show her that she didn’t deserve such rejection at all, and that she should never feel it again by another.
“That’s more reasonable than most would consider.”
“I am more reasonable than most.”
He chuckled wryly. “Especially me,” he said, reading into her words.
“Especially you,” she agreed, and now his laugh was much louder, enough to draw the attention of a few of the couples around them.
The stares continued, and suddenly he realized that Lady Oxford — right, Oxford, that was her name — had finished her song but they were still stepping and swaying in time to the music that was but an echo around them.
Elijah cleared his throat and stepped back away from Joanna. “Thank you for the dance.”
“Thank you.”
“Oh, and Joanna?”
“Yes?”
“Your hair is beautiful tonight.”
Before she could respond, Alex was there, claiming her hand for the next set.
Elijah could do nothing but sigh and turn away.
He was going to have to take things one step further if he wanted to win her hand.
And win her hand he would.
Chapter 8
Every Christmas morning, Joanna woke with the same wonder and excitement as she had when she was a child, when her grandmother would have presents awaiting her, left there by the enigma that was Saint Nicholas.
When she had been old enough to understand that Saint Nicholas was, in fact, someone much dearer to her, she had only become more appreciative of what her grandmother had done for her.
But she had been telling the truth when she had shared with Elijah of how much she missed her. Even the Christmases she was entirely alone, doing nothing but reading a good book by the fire, going to the church service, and dining with friends, she still looked forward to all that the day held.
She grinned today when she opened the wardrobe, as the dress that had held the place of honor in the very middle was finally her selection. It wasn’t one she would normally wear in the morning, but after breakfast they would go into the village for the Christmas church service before returning for the feast.
And a feast it would be. Joanna recalled the few Christmases she had spent here in the past, and they always required her to loosen her stays.
She bit her lip, remembering the teasing that had followed. She had been quite plump in her youth, and it had only been over the past few years that she had grown into her curves.
Besides her grandmother, she had exchanged Christmas gifts with but one other person — Caroline. She couldn’t wait until the day she would be able to choose or create something for her own children. If that day ever came.
But no matter. Today was Christmas, and it was a day to celebrate.
“Joanna!”
Joanna turned to see that Caroline had her door open a crack, and was waving her in.
“Were you watching for me?” she asked as she opened the door and entered Caroline’s room. It was sumptuous, romantic, just like Caroline herself. The walls were delicate rose pink, the canopies a darker shade somewhere between pink and red, with tiny rosebuds embroidered on them.
“I was,” Caroline said, shutting the door behind her. She wore a silk emerald dress with tiny red flowers tucked into her chignon, a look that would have made Joanna look childlike, but was charmingly elegant on Caroline. “Happy Christmas, Joanna.”
“Happy Christmas, Caroline.”
Caroline reached out and Joanna embraced her, grateful that, if nothing else, this long friendship had already stood the test of many