Chapter 8

 

Thomas awoke in his old bedchamber, his long legs hanging off the side of the bed. Pushing an aging quilt from his body and pulling himself into a sitting position, he realized he’d fallen asleep laying in the wrong direction.

And fully clothed.

He tried to run a hand through his hair, but met resistance from what was certainly a tangled mess of curls. He’d slept restlessly, plagued with odd, disjointed dreams that disturbed him even though he couldn’t remember anything specific about them.

Then the memory of the previous day’s falling out with Maddie flooded back into his mind and he sighed, dropping his head into his hands. She’d been upset, of course. But what he could no longer ignore was the shock written on her features when he’d said his state of mind was none of her concern, the pain he knew he had caused when he told her she was better off with Kit because he had money.

“Kit was right,” he mumbled. “I am an ass.”

The cold of the room crept under the layers of his clothing, and Thomas realized the fire he’d lit the night before had gone out. Wrapping himself in the quilt, he chastised himself for forgetting to bank the fire before he’d gone to bed. Then he chastised himself some more for the way he’d treated Maddie. He’d been so caught up in his perceived inadequacies that he’d rejected Maddie’s attempt to help. For that was what she’d been doing when she told him about her grandmother’s suggested arrangement. But he’d been too self-centered to see it.

“Have I ruined our future before it could even begin?”

Perhaps not. One of the things he loved about Maddie was her compassionate nature. Oh, she had been the first person to tell him or Kit when they’d done something stupid as adolescents, but she’d also been quick to forgive when presented with genuine remorse and the desire to make the situation right again.

“And I most certainly want to make this situation right again.” He clambered off the bed and dropped the quilt onto the floor. “Will she see me if I return to the Haywards’ house?”

There was only one way to find out. As he set about tidying his appearance, he tried to plan out what to say to her. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” definitely needed to be said, but what else? How to explain the temporary madness that had come over him? Could he assure her it would never happen again?

Another thought halted him in his tracks. What if she wasn’t alone?

If Kit was with her—and he probably was—he could be convinced to leave them. But if she was with her parents and his mother, Thomas wasn’t sure he’d be able to get her alone.

Dear God, he might have to beg for Maddie’s forgiveness while both their families looked on.

A shiver passed through his body. “It should be a private moment,” he said to a portrait of his great-grandfather, who probably would have agreed with Thomas’s assessment. “But if I have to humble myself in front of the entire county to return to her good graces, then that is what I will do.”

When he was satisfied with his appearance, he went hunting for the rose and bottle of scent he’d procured from the shop in the village. He remembered unexpectedly finding both in the pockets of his tailcoat shortly after he’d arrived at the old house, remembered taking them out and putting them somewhere he couldn’t see them, where he wouldn’t be reminded of who they’d been meant for.

Ah-ha! He discovered both items on top of a tall bookshelf in what had been his father’s study. The rose was wilted and rather worse for the wear, but the bottle of scent was intact. That would have to do, unless he found something else on the way to the Haywards’ home—unlikely in this weather.

No matter, the scent would do nicely. He’d originally meant it as a gift simply because he’d wanted to give Maddie something, but it would serve just as well as an I’m-sorry offering and a belated Christmas gift.

Thomas located his greatcoat and hat—thrown haphazardly over the banister when he’d entered the house—and headed out into the freezing cold.

~*~

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Kit looked down at Maddie, his blond brows raised as he asked the question.

He was giving her the chance to back out. No one else knew about their decision except the two of them, and they didn’t have to announce it to their families now. But Maddie knew their parents would have to be told at some point. Now was as good a time as any.

“Yes,” she said resolutely. It hadn’t taken her long to figure out what—or who—she really wanted after Kit had left her to her own devices the night before, and what would be best for all involved. She’d known it since she’d sat down to breakfast with the Mathison brothers the first morning of their visit, and Kit had agreed when she went to him first thing that morning with her answer.

“All right then.”

Their parents were gathered in the Haywards’ parlor wishing the blustery weather to perdition when Maddie entered the room at Kit’s side. All three heads swiveled in their direction and the conversation had died by the time Maddie came to a halt in front of the fireplace, with Kit taking his place to the left and just behind her.

“Mama, Papa, Mrs. Mathison...” Maddie began with confidence, but with three sets of eyes upon her—the eyes of the people who had dismissed her wishes for months and months in favor of their own—her resolve began to melt. She felt Kit’s warm hand on her back and took a calming breath, then started again. “Kit and I have an announcement to make—”

“Wait!”

Maddie turned toward the door as Thomas rushed in, still wearing his greatcoat and hat and dusted with snow. “Thomas, what are you—”

“Please don’t marry Kit,” he interrupted, tossing his hat onto the nearest chair and running a hand through his disheveled auburn curls.

Maddie heard Kit’s low chuckle behind her and she managed a smile, despite the thudding of her heart. “I wasn’t going to.”

“You weren’t?” Thomas asked, stopping short.

“You weren’t?” Maddie’s mother echoed from the sofa. “What announcement were you and Kit going to make?”

“We were going to announce that we’d decided never to marry each other,” Kit supplied helpfully. “Maddie and I hoped that you all would honor our wishes if we told everyone together.”

Thomas’s hands were cold and bare when they enveloped hers, but he was smiling broadly and her body warmed at his touch. “Good. Then I still have a chance to apologize to you.”

“As you should,” Kit returned with a pointed look at his brother.

“Perhaps we should speak privately,” Maddie offered, squeezing Thomas’s hands. If there was an apology awaiting her, would there also be an opportunity to have a real conversation about their future?

His smile took on a relieved quality, and his whole body seemed to relax. “Yes. That’s a good idea.”

With a quick glance at their families, she led him from the parlor around to the dining room, where he’d told her to find a man with money only the day before. Once he’d closed the door behind them, he clasped her free hand once more and rubbed his thumbs over both her hands.

“I’m sorry, Maddie,” he said without preamble. “I got so wrapped up in trying to meet some arbitrary definition of worthiness—and failing—that I completely missed the point of courtship.”

He stepped closer and the scent of pine and wool emanated from the greatcoat he still wore.

“And what’s that?” she asked softly, her blood pounding in her ears.

“To be together,” he replied, resting his forehead against hers. “Will you forgive my utter foolishness, darling? Might we resume our courtship?”

She wanted with all her being to say yes, but there were things they needed to discuss first. She pulled back slightly to look into his blue eyes. “I do forgive you, Thomas. But what happens the next time we must deal with a problem? Will you insist on making all the decisions without even talking to me? What about when you and I have a disagreement? Are you going to shut me out until you miss me enough to apologize?”

Thomas drew back as if he’d been stung, then bowed his head. “You’re insinuating that I’ve been a boor as well as a numbskull, and I deserve that. I have been.”

“And I deserve answers to my questions,” Maddie replied quietly.

He blinked, then lifted his gaze to hers. “You are an intelligent woman, Maddie Hayward, and I was an idiot to dismiss that fact. If I’d have kept my head in the first place, we could have had a real conversation about our future and avoided all this turmoil. I promise you I won’t forget that.”

“We can still have that conversation,” she said, her lips curving into a slow smile. “If you’re willing.”

“I am, and we should,” he replied with an answering smile. “Might we delay it just a few moments longer, though? There’s one more thing I would like to do.”

He released her and reached into his pockets, producing a small glass bottle in one hand and a familiar clump of leaves in the other.

“What on earth?”

“Belated Christmas gifts,” he said, extending the hand with the bottle.

She plucked it from his palm and opened it, closing her eyes in pleasure as the scent of roses filled the air. “My favorite,” she sighed.

“Is that why you wore it the night of the assembly?”

Maddie’s eyes popped open. “You noticed?”

“You usually wear gardenias.” He licked his lips and shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “But the scent of roses will always remind me of you now.”

She set the bottle down on the dining room table and slid her arms around Thomas’s middle. “That makes it the perfect gift.”

He wrapped one arm around her and pressed his cheek to hers. “The second one is for both of us.”

“Is that what I think it is?” she murmured, warm and content against him.

He nodded, the stubble on his unshaven face bristling against her skin. “Mistletoe.”

She drew back to examine the green mass he held in his other hand, then burst out laughing. “So it is.”

“May I kiss you under it?”

“I think that’s an excellent idea.”

He obliged her, brushing his lips over hers before tossing the mistletoe onto the table and pulling her body against his with both arms. “I love you, Maddie. I can’t promise you I’ll never let my insecurities get the better of me again, but I’ll do everything I can to keep them in check.”

“Including coming to me for help?” she asked, tilting her head slightly to one side.

“That,” he said, leaning his forehead against hers, “will be my first step. And I hope it would be yours, too, in a similar situation.”

“Good.” She sighed softly and stroked a hand down his back. “And yes, I would come to you for help if I needed it. I love you, and your support—your emotional support—is important to me.”

“Good.”

“Like now,” she continued with a sly smile. “I think I might need to be kissed again. Can you help me with that?”

He dipped his head, pausing just before capturing her lips once more. “With pleasure.”