His Christmas Nymph by Marly Mathews Page A

so much.”
    “It will do m y body and soul good. You needn’t worry that all of this traipsing about will wear me thin. I am nothing like my mother.”
    “You’re entirely too much like the Lady Margaret, God rest her beautiful soul. This is why I am saddened to see that your aunt won’t take better care of you. You need your rest. You shouldn’t be gallivanting about today, you should be taking it easy, an d resting well, before tomorrow’s gaiety.”
    As Sally finished fixing her hair, she reached back and grabbed her hand. “Don’t worry, Sally. I’m hearty and hale. My heart might be breaking but my body is not. I will probably outlive you.”
    Sally snorted. “That will be as it should be. I’m much older than you, and I’d like to know that you’ll live past me. I’d like to know that one of Lady Margaret’s children had a long happy life. In fact, I want you to swear that you’ll sit by my deathbed when it’s my time to go.”
    “I swear I shall, dearest Sally. Now, will I do?”
    “Lady Wallsworth wouldn’t give a tinker’s fart how you looked. She took you wearing that old wardrobe that your father provided for you and she’ll accept you as you are now, a veritable country Princess.”
    “You a re quite right, Sally. Now I have to tackle the next few hours without losing my mind. I simply don’t know how I’ll get through the talking bit. I feel so scattered these days.”
    “You’ll handle yourself fine,” Sally said, helping her into the warm velvet pelisse that went with the dress s he wore. “You shouldn’t fret so. Lady Wallsworth simply adores you.”
    “When I return home, I daresay I’ll retire to my bed without dinner, Sally. I don’t think I’ll feel like dressing for it and summoning the energy to do it justice.”
    “Aye, Miss Caroline.”
    She sat in quiet reflection, as the carriage rolled over the roads between Cleeve Hall and Lady Wallsworth’s home, Wallsworth Abbey. Whenever she was alone with her thoughts she brooded over Edward. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t stop thinking about him.
    As the carriage drew up to Wallsworth Abbey a queasy sensation overcame her. She didn’t know why she expected something to go awry once she entered the large house but she did.
    Lady Wallsworth had never been anything but kind to her so she didn’t fear her—she just couldn’t put her finger on it, something wasn’t quite right.
    The doors opened to the Abbey and her stomach sunk as her eyes swept over the man who stood waiting for her.
    Edward. 
    “Oh, Fiddlesticks,” she muttered under her breath using one of her aunt’s favourite frustrated exclamations.

Chapter Eight
     
    Caroline had been tricked.
    However would she maneuver her way out of this sticky situation? She couldn’t bear the thought of being alone with Edward and Lady Wallsworth and her old mother weren’t anywhere in sight.
    The carriage door opened, and she found herself face to face with Edward. His eyes burned with longing, and he literally exuded his extreme want for her. She felt quite alone and quite vulnerable. His beautiful eyes literally ate her up.
    “You a re not playing fair, sir,” she whispered.
    “Would you kindly allow me to help you out of the carriage? My godmother and her mother await you in the Drawing Room.”
    She swallowed thickly, to still the caustic remark she wanted so desperately to throw at him. She couldn’t lose her head.
    “You were in bad form the way you treated me, Caroline,” he murmured , as she slipped her gloved hand into his hand.
    “No, I was not, sir. I couldn’t very well marry a man I barely knew. It wouldn’t have been the sensible thing to do.”
    “We might not have known each other for as long as some courting couples do, but we shared something immensely profound, and you cannot deny that.”
    Her cheeks were burning red. How could she make this travesty end?
    She stood on solid ground and yet, her world felt as if it was