Mismatched Under the Mistletoe - Jess Michaels Page 0,1

As if she could be his. Which was clearly and patently untrue. She looked up into Rutledge’s face with pure adoration.

“I would only do so if Mr. Cavendish agreed to such a thing,” she said with another of those fetching blushes.

“Of course,” Cav managed to force past a suddenly dry throat. “After all, Rutledge is my best friend. And as he said, what is his is yours. I am at your service.”

She smiled, and he could see how truly happy she was at the idea that they would all be fast friends. And they would be. Rutledge was more like a brother to Cav than a mere friend. If he had these strange, powerful feelings in this moment, surely he would master them.

“Well, I cannot wait for you two to get to know each other better,” Rutledge said. “And now, Lady Emily, I would very much like to have the next dance, if your card is free.”

“For you, it will always be free,” she said, and her face lit up with joy and certainty.

Rutledge grinned again at Cav and then took her away, into the crowd, onto the dancefloor. As Cav watched his best friend dance with the remarkable woman he had chosen for his bride, he let his forced smile fall. They were happy together. And it hurt like a sword to the chest.

Mastering this sudden and powerful feeling might not be as easy as he hoped. So perhaps his better option was to push it down…down deep where horrible things like this belonged.

He would never act on it, that was all he knew. He was many things, not all of them good, but he would never allow himself to be the kind of man who would do that.

Chapter 1

Nine Years Later

Lady Emily Rutledge took the hand her driver offered and stepped down from her carriage on the walkway. She shook her head and looked up the stairway toward the front door. Outside, a footman swept the afternoon’s dusting of snow away from the walkway, and she paused.

“Good afternoon, Arthur!”

The footman looked up from his work and gave her a smile. “Good afternoon, my lady. Almost finished here.”

She nodded. “I see that.”

“And how was the shopping?”

Emily laughed as she lifted the two satchels in her hands and motioned to the carriage, which was being unloaded as they spoke. “Productive. Thank you.”

“Mr. Cavendish is here,” the young man said.

Emily pursed her lips. Cav was always late to every appointment except the ones he took with her. It was a joke between them now, but on days like today she wished he hadn’t changed that bad habit for her. “Oh, I know. I’m so late. Good afternoon, Arthur!”

As she scurried up the freshly swept steps, she heard the footman laughing after her. “Good afternoon, my lady.”

She burst into the foyer to find her butler, Cringle, already waiting for her. She smiled as she handed over her packages, then her gloves, scarf and coat in rapid succession.

“Should these go in the gift room, my lady?” he asked, indicating the bags.

“Yes, those two and the ones outside.” She gave him a conspiratorial look. “How long has Cav been waiting?”

“Mr. Cavendish has been in the parlor for a bit over a half an hour, my lady.” He tilted his head.

She smothered another laugh. “Oh, I shall be railed upon for sure. Thank you, Cringle.”

He nodded as he moved away to the room upstairs that Emily had long ago set aside for gifts and wrapping. She kept it well-stocked with items all year round, but never was it so packed as the weeks leading up to Christmas, when Emily filled it to capacity with gifts for her relatives, friends and servants. Just the thought of it now filled her with giddy anticipation of the reactions of those she cared about when they opened her perfect gift for them.

She threw open the parlor door to find Cav sitting on a settee beside the roaring fire. In the fraction of a moment it took for him to rise to his feet in greeting, a wash of emotion hit Emily in the chest. It had been five years since her husband died of a sudden fever, followed by both her parents.

Five years of heartbreak and mourning and loneliness. She had only truly begun to feel herself again in the last twelve months. But seeing Cav always brought Andrew back to her mind. Cav had been his best friend, after all.

He had become hers, too. When loss had become