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Christmas Eve night
Dinner had concluded hours ago, and it had been a rowdy enough affair. Some of the more colorful patrons of the establishment had indulged in drink and sang both bawdy tavern songs mixed with more somber carols. The juxtaposition reminded him of the time spent onboard his ship when the sailors did everything they could to keep from missing life on land.
Here, he felt at home.
Helen had made good on her intent to begin festooning the inn with holiday cheer. Already the mantles of the fireplaces on either side of the room were decorated with the branches and foliage he and she had gathered earlier. The small evergreen tree he’d brought back waited in an oak container on a table in one corner. The pungent scent of pine wafted through the tavern room whenever the air was disturbed, but as he glanced about the area, there was no sign of the innkeeper’s daughter.
And her presence was what the room needed for light and sparkle.
In fact, Elias hadn’t seen her since the dinner service concluded, and suddenly he missed the whimsy she brought. He closed the book he’d been reading with a snap, and leaving it on the table, he gained his feet and stretched. The remembrance of the kiss he’d stolen kept chasing through his mind. It had been simple and chaste, and she’d been surprised, but the softness of her lips and the way they’d perfectly cushioned his would haunt him for the rest of his days.
I need to find her, kiss her again because, by Jove, she feels like Christmas.
He wandered over to the counter, and when he’d caught the attention of the barmaid, he smiled. “Excuse me, young lady. Can you tell me where Miss Everly might be this time of night?”
The blonde raked her gaze up and down his person. Her blatant regard didn’t thrill him like Helen’s did. “Usually she retires early, but tonight, I think she’s in the cellars looking for decorations.”
“Ah. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. And, Captain, should you want... company later, I live down the shore at Number Two Copper Lane. It’s Mrs. Hanson’s boarding house.” She dared to wink at him. “Feel free to drop by. Room four.”
At the last second, Elias closed his mouth, for his lower jaw had fallen open. It wasn’t the first time he’d been boldly propositioned over the course of his adult life, but the fact that this woman would do so knowing he’d already shown an interest in Helen grated. “Thank you for the generous offer. However, I’m quite content to remain where I am.”
“If you change your mind—”
“I won’t,” he said with a firm note of command in his voice. Then he fled the tavern room as fast as he could without breaking into a run. When he found the kitchens, he breathed a sigh of relief.
A roundish woman with a mobcap looked at him with surprise. Both kitchen maids assisting her in preparations for the morrow stared. “You’ve taken a wrong turn,” she said with the heavy accent of the area. “Too much brandy, no doubt.”
“No, actually.” Elias tugged on the bottom of his waistcoat. He cleared his throat and then flashed a grin. “I’m quite sober, just searching for the cellars and Miss Everly.”
“Oh!” The cook beamed—at least he assumed she was the cook—and nodded to the side at an unassuming wooden door. “There, and you must be the captain.”
The two maids tittered and eyed him with interest.
Bloody hell but all the feminine attention was becoming tiresome. “I am. Captain Frampton, at your service.” Purely for the theatric effect, he gave the women a half-bow from his waist. “And might I say your meals thus far have been some of the best I’ve ever eaten in England.”
Blushes were shared all around. The cook put a hand to her cheek. “Thank you.” Then she made a shooing motion. “Best get on, then. I’ve much to do for tomorrow.”
“Right.” With a parting grin, Elias quickly took his leave. He plunged down a set of narrow stone steps, and at the bottom were two doors. “Devil take it,” he whispered to himself.
Trying to door on the left, he yanked it open and charged into the room beyond, where a cloud of various offensive odors smacked into him with the force of a blow. Obviously, this room was used for castoffs from the kitchens, bins full of things, which was why it was readily accessible from there and tucked away so said odors wouldn’t creep through the inn.
Elias did his due diligence, breathing through his mouth, in order to satisfy his curiosity. One bin used was the ashbin. Ashbins held dry rubbish, cinders, and ashes from fireplaces and had a wire screen placed over the top to allow for sifting.
Another container held offal. “How fascinating.” He’d never had cause to explore the inner workings of a house or inn. Onboard ship, whatever food bits they couldn’t use were fed to the fish. The bins were used for kitchen offal and because they put off massive offensive odors, they were probably emptied every day or two, depending on the season. A smaller door at the opposite end of the room no doubt led to an alleyway where tradesmen could reach their respective bins.
When the pervasive stench became too much, he abandoned his curiosity as well as the malodorous room. Once he’d closed that door, he inhaled a few lungsful of relatively clean air, and then he opened the door on the right.
This room contained a series of smaller holding places, all portioned off by wooden shelves, the first area of which contained shelves of wine, whisky, brandy, with a few wooden stools. No doubt they kept the beer kegs in a room with more light and ventilation, closer to the tavern upstairs.
Unfortunately, Helen wasn’t immediately seen, so Elias continued with his quest.
The next area contained crates and burlap bags of staples, such as root vegetables, grains, flours, salt, dried herbs hanging from nails in the posts, and various other things a kitchen needed.
And still no Helen.
A bit of anxiety twisted through his gut. The third area contained cleaning supplies, extra brooms and mops, broken furniture, various bins of linens, and everything else an active inn had use for. In the middle of the space, Helen sat on a low stool, a bit of dried fruit in her lap, tears on her cheeks. A wooden box rested on the floor nearby.
Immediately, concern tightened his chest. “Helen, what’s afoot? Are you hurt, in need of assistance?”
“Elias.” She jerked her head up and wiped at the moisture. In the dim light, her brown eyes were luminous. “I’m fine.” A laugh escaped her, followed by a sniffle. “I came to retrieve the boxes of decorations. The shelves are too tall, so when I pulled one down, some of the items tumbled out.” In her hand, she held what looked like a dried string of orange slices.
“What is it?” And why the devil would she keep something so desiccated?
“My mother made this the last year she was alive. I remember when she draped it along the mantle. She was so proud.” Helen put the fruit to her nose. A half sob half laugh escaped. “It barely smells of the cloves anymore and it looks this side of hideous, I know, but it’s such a precious memory I can’t bear to part with it.”
Her emotion and nostalgic attachment tugged at his heart. “And neither should you. If it brings you joy, then keep it for as long as you’re able.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the understanding.” She traced a finger along the string of dried fruits. “It’s silly.”
“Nothing that brings joy is ever silly.” This woman who had so many cares riding on her each day needed a shoulder to lean on, and he wanted to be that man. Elias held out a hand. “Come. Let me help you transform the tap room. Tarrying down here is no place for a lady.”
A half laugh half snort escaped her. “I’m not a lady.”
“To me, you are.” And it was true. The connection growing between them strengthened each time he spent in her company. Could she feel it too? If she were his, he’d delve into his savings and buy her copious amounts of pretty gowns and fripperies, whatever her heart desired if only to make her happy and keep that smile of Christmas on her face.
“Oh.” A faint blush stained her cheeks. “You’re too charming for your own good.” When she placed the fingers of her free hand into his palm, heat emanated up his limb from the point of contact.
Yes, he needed to explore the something between them, for he owed it to both of them. Despite the fact they’d only known each other for two days. The swiftness of the reaction left his head reeling, for his last relationship had been a long engagement that had ended in acute disappointment. “Perhaps it will see me through into a good future.”
Oh, how he wanted to believe that!
The smile she offered was tremulous at best. “Do you have memories of Christmas from your past?” The question, asked in a voice that had turned throaty from the emotions she struggled with, sent a wave of awareness over him.
“Not from my boyhood, for that wasn’t a happy time in my life, but from my stint on the sea, of course.” Since meeting Helen, he’d wished to stay suspended within those feelings of warmth and welcome the season offered, and he sincerely believed she had much to do with that.
“Will you tell me?” She tilted her chin and met his gaze. Questions and speculation clouded those doe-brown eyes, and if given half the chance, he’d dive into those rich pools merely to linger in the solace she offered.
“I will, once we’re upstairs.”
The floral scent of her wafted to his nose to further spin a web around him, kept him buffered from the world and its ills.
A tentative smile curved her kissable lips. “Why not now? We’re as alone as we’ll ever be, for no one comes down here often.”
Oh, the temptation! Some of his control slipped. “I can’t very well talk while kissing you, can I?”
Her eyes went wide as he took her into his arms. “I beg your—”
Such a dear, silly goose! And he wanted her. Elias cut off her protest by claiming her lips with his. How would she react to this one?
For the space of a few heartbeats, she stared at him, her body tense, and he paused, holding her loosely, bracing for her flight, but then with a tiny sigh, Helen closed her eyes. The dark arcs of her lashes fanned over her cheeks. She relaxed in his hold and laid her free hand against his chest.
It was the singular most gratifying moment, as if he’d waited for this very opportunity his whole life. Anticipation tingled down his spine to settle in his stones. Elias held her more comfortably in his embrace and applied himself to the task of exploring her lips. Their petal-softness lit tiny fires in his blood. How would they feel gliding over his skin under cover of midnight darkness? Then he reined in his imagination, for he didn’t wish to spook her by rushing his fences.
Instead, he moved over her mouth, nibbled at the corners, tasted the faint tartness of the wine she’d had at dinner. He ran the tip of his tongue along her lush bottom lip before beginning his introduction all over again, making love to her lips as if he’d never kissed a woman before; he couldn’t have enough.
The tiny sounds of pleasure she made at the back of her throat worked further at his undoing, but he vowed to himself that he’d remain a gentleman. Her fingers curled into his lapel, and the bit of dried fruit fell from her hand. It tumbled to his boot, but she pushed herself closer into his hold. Then her fingers were at his nape, furrowing through his hair there. She lifted onto her toes, and with slight pressure, so fleeting he nearly missed it, she pulled his head forward so she could kiss him back.
Dear God, her innocent exploration was as erotic as anything he’d experienced. What would she do with more confidence and a more private location? With a growl mixed with a groan, Elias crushed her into his arms and kissed her once more, wishing to leave no doubt to how he was beginning to feel about her.
Minutes later, they parted, and he was breathless, his shaft tightening with need, and this without deepening their embrace. “Well, then.” Apparently, he’d lost his ability to find something more erudite to say. Words refused to form in his passion-fogged mind.
“Indeed.” She smiled, and those kiss-swollen lips sorely tempted him to do wicked things to her. Now was not the time and this storage area certainly wasn’t conducive to romancing such a thing, but a wave of masculine smugness came over him to note she was as breathless as he.
His gaze dropped to her bosom, and he tamped the urge to groan again. Steady, Elias. He wrenched his attention back to her face. “I rather enjoy kissing you, if you don’t mind me saying.” God, what a bacon-brained idiot he was!
“That’s all to the good, Captain, for I rather enjoy being kissed.” Her whisper stole a piece of his heart, even more so when she giggled. Then, a hiccup escaped, followed quickly by another and another, until they both erupted into laughter, which dispelled the crackling tension. “Oh, how embarrassing!”
How adorable, truly, and knowing he’d excited her made him grin, and it felt decidedly goofy. “I suppose I’m not a failure at kissing.” Was it possible this woman could make him forget the heartbreak that had occurred with Caroline?
“Far from it.” Another two hiccups followed her statement, which set off another round of laughter between them.
With regret, Elias released her. He stooped, retrieved her treasured string of fruits, and then pressed it into her hand. “We’d best take your decorations upstairs before someone comes looking for you.” He took a couple of steps backward in an effort to remove all temptation.
“Why, Captain? Are you worried that you might compromise me?” Humor twinkled in her eyes, and if she didn’t stop looking at him with longing and need, they’d both land in the drink.
Heat crept up the back of his neck. “That would be the first time I’ve been accused of such a thing. I’ve treated women with the utmost respect and have remained a gentleman throughout.”
Except, something about Helen beckoned to his soul, and if he wasn’t careful, his carefully cultivated manners would fly right out the window, and she’d find herself compromised. She was nearly ten years his junior, and she’d never consent to a relationship with a man who hadn’t conquered the calling of the sea. So what did he want more: her or a return to the waves where freedom abounded? Why can I not have both? For that matter, was it the sea she took exception to or merely the men who sailed it? He shoved those thoughts from his mind.
“Oh, I think you’d make a lovely showing if you set out to become a woman’s ruination.” When he could only issue a strangled sort of sound as a protest, she giggled. And then hiccupped three times in succession. As a blush infused her cheeks, she gestured toward a couple of boxes. “All right, I’ll cease teasing you, but I can’t promise I won’t pick up again later. It’s too much fun watching you flounder.”
“I can appreciate that.” He dropped his voice as he retrieved one of the boxes. “I look forward to another chance to have you all to myself.” Would she understand the words he couldn’t say?
Surprise flitted across her face. “You’re flirting with me.” It wasn’t a question.
“I’m trying.” After his rejection by Caroline, he’d assumed he wouldn’t wish to do so again with anyone, for a man didn’t often willingly put himself up for ridicule. “I apologize if my attempts are awkward. It’s rather daunting after... everything.”
“It’s sweet.” Briefly, she laid a hand on his arm before moving away. “Will you tell me about the woman who broke your heart?” she asked in soft tones as she picked up the second box of decorations.
“Perhaps I will. Later tonight.” For now, he would enjoy being in Helen’s company without thinking beyond the next handful of days. “Shall we return to the tavern room? It’s quite... unsettling down here and not at all conducive to kisses.”
“Silly man.” Her tinkling laughter buoyed his heart, and he could envision himself listening to that for the rest of his life. “It’s a cellar, Elias, not a ballroom, and such things don’t matter if one is willing.”
As if that explained it, but given that train of thought, the urge to kiss her again grew strong. “Yes, we should absolutely return to the tavern room before this... we... become too distracted.”
I think I’m in a spot of bother.