that? Are you sure you’re not just embellishing? I mean—”
“You did,” she said, her eyes narrowing, “and I had to continue to apologize for it. I’m not saying that you did it alone but it was you who perpetrated it. So if you are wondering just why she wasn’t pleased to see you, now you know. The truth is, Elijah, she doesn’t even want to be in the same house as you, and the only reason she agreed to come was because she thought you were still at war. So please, please, just leave her alone. Do you understand?”
He nodded.
But he didn’t agree. For he had a new Christmas wish.
To win over Joanna Merryton.
Chapter 2
Joanna paced her bedchamber, inwardly fuming but unable to do anything about it. After all, this was Lord Elijah’s home — not hers.
She could be as angry as she wanted to be, as hurt as she wanted to be, but at the end of it all, it didn’t really matter. She had chosen to come here, and, for these two weeks, was living off of the generosity of the Kentmore family.
Besides, her own protestations were silly. So she had lost a pocket watch years ago — even though it had been one of the few tokens she had left to remember the woman who had raised her, it was still just a token. Elijah had risked his life at war. She should be happy he was home.
In fact, she had always found it rather difficult over the past few years to reconcile the boy she had known with a man who would put himself in danger for his country. Perhaps he hadn’t had any idea what he was getting himself into. Perhaps he only did it for the reputation and the valor that came along with it. She couldn’t see any other reason.
She stopped when she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror on the small, simple vanity, and she walked over, placing her hands on the glossy wood surface before her. Squinting slightly to properly see, she ran her eyes over the heightened color in her cheeks, her hair standing on end, her dress bunched where the ties had come loose.
And she was reminded of another woman — one not much more than a girl, really. One had nothing but a job as a seamstress, the smallest of shared spaces in London to call home, a few women she was lucky enough to call her good friends, and the memory of a grandmother who had loved her. She used to live for the days she could come visit with her closest friend, Caroline — until her friend’s brother had ruined everything for her.
For the worst of it was that Eli had always been so bright, so handsome, so stunning, that there wasn’t a woman who met him that didn’t want him for herself. And for just a moment, five years ago, Joanna had been amazed that he had chosen her — pudgy, plain her — even if it was for just one kiss beneath the mistletoe.
And then he’d lifted the pug to her face instead.
The memory of it — and of the laughter that had echoed around her when she had sprung back in horror — was as clear in her mind as tonight’s encounter.
She couldn’t stay. Not with him here.
Thank goodness Caroline and Lord Alexander had been there to comfort her. Lord Elijah had tried to blame his brother for all of it, but that had all been a lie. Just like Lord Elijah’s trickery.
Joanna pushed away from the plain mahogany vanity, rounding the corner of the tall bed, its soft white canopies brushing against her face, either taunting her or tempering her, she wasn’t entirely sure which. She crossed over to the wardrobe, pulling it open to be greeted by the forlorn few dresses that seemed to long for company in the barren space.
At the bottom, she found what she was looking for — her worn, frayed valise. She tossed it on the bed, opening it up before she returned to the wardrobe and began to pull down the few dresses that had accompanied her. She had done her very best to mend them to a desirable state, and had altered the dresses that Caroline had insisted upon giving her. Joanna could but hope that no one would recognize them and realize that she had become such a charity.
And then there was the final dress. Joanna pulled it out reverently. She was