Page 18 of A Rogues & Gentlemen Christmas

Chapter 5

“Wherein the truth will out.”

14thDecember 1817. Corry Brook Farm. Devon.

“Good lord, Ransom. You’ll never guess what I’ve done,” Chance told his horse. He held out a piece of the apple he’d brought with him and watched as the big fellow crunched contentedly. “I’ve gone and got myself a wife.”

Even he could hear the wonder in his words. He kept waiting for panic to seize him, for good sense to wake him out of this little daydream and scream at him for being such a fool. It never happened, and the longer the sense of having done the right thing persisted, the more he believed it. Obviously, it was an unusual way to meets one’s wife but… well, why not? Fate had brought them together for a reason, and he wasn’t about to turn his back on it. Fate had been cruel to him on occasion, but it had blessed him a time or two as well, such as the bullet that had left a hole in his hat when he’d not so much as a scratch on him.

This was a blessing too. He felt it in his bones. He was sure of Odette for no good reason other than that he saw sincerity in her eyes, and her laughter made him feel alive after so long spent in some in-between state where nothing could touch him.

“Oh, my father is going to cut me into tiny pieces and scatter them all over his thirteen thousand acres. Ah, well.”

He scratched Ransom’s neck and frowned as he remembered the girl he’d been supposed to meet, the one to whom his father expected him to propose. An apology was due to her. Please god, don’t let her still be waiting for him when he came back with a wife in tow! At least he had an excuse beyond sheer bloody mindedness, that was something. Perhaps she’d think it romantic. It was romantic! He grinned, feeling silly and happy and not even caring in this moment that his father was going to murder him.

“Charlie!”

Odette’s voice rang out and Chance gave Ransom an affectionate kiss on the nose. “I’m a lucky dog, Ransom, old boy.”

He hurried back to the farmhouse, realising as he went that everything was dripping. The snowman they had made looking oddly drunk now, the head having slumped to one side. The snow was melting. Perhaps tomorrow they could leave? For the sheer joy of it he made a snowball and lobbed it at the snowman. It hit the side of its head, straightening it up a touch. Chance gave a bark of laughter and ran to the kitchen door.

Odette was waiting for him. She’d brushed her hair out as best she could and pinned it up again, and Chance felt his heart give an odd little kick in his chest.

“I have something of yours,” he said, reaching into his pocket and retrieving the pin he’d found. He moved closer, showing her what he held. “I found it that first night. You almost had me believing in ghosts, you know.”

“Oh,” she said, taking it from him. “Thank you! André gave me them for my birthday. My last gift from him. They are very precious.”

“You loved him,” Chance observed, uncertain how he felt about that.

She slid the pin carefully into place and nodded, looking up at him. “Oui, bien sûr. I loved him dearly, but not romantically. It wasn’t like that between us.”

Chance nodded and took her hands. “I believe you. It’s just so hard to believe any man could be close to you and not tumble head over ears in love.”

The tinge of colour that stained her cheeks was lovely and made him want to kiss her, but she was talking of her past and he wanted to hear that too.

“André wasn’t… he didn’t…. I was not his… type,” she finished, giving him an anxious glance.

There was an edge to her anxiety that made him realise she was telling him something significant.

“Oh,” Chance said as the penny dropped. André would not have loved any girl, no matter how beautiful. “Oh, I see.”

“You won’t say anything? Not to anyone?” she said, grasping his hands tightly, the panic in her eyes startling him. “I could not bear anyone to say anything bad of him, and I know they would. Uncle certainly did, and he only suspected.”

“No!” Chance said at once. “No, I never would. It’s no one’s business who a fellow loves. Takes all sorts. Never have seen what all the fuss was about. Goodness, that sort of thing is rife at school, and then everyone acts as though it never happens.”

She let out a breath, staring at him in wonder.

“What?” he said, a little taken aback by her expression.

“You,” she said simply. “I keep thinking you can’t possibly be as kind and wonderful as you appear, but… but you are, aren’t you?”

It was Chance’s turn to blush, much to his astonishment. He could not remember having done so since he was about thirteen. It was an unsettling experience.

“I don’t know about that,” he muttered, aware he had not told her some very pertinent information about who and what he was, but she had agreed to marry him all the same.

Odette had no idea if he was a duke or a pauper. She thought he was wonderful.

“I do,” she said, moving closer to him. She slid her arms about his waist and rested her head on his chest. Tentatively, Chance put his arms around her and sighed. Perfect.