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Helen’s feet felt as if they scarcely touched the floor as she flitted about the tavern room resting tin bells and glass balls within the evergreen boughs. Elias had kissed her nearly senseless in the cellar, and God help her, that one time hadn’t been enough. Now she knew what it truly meant to have been kissed soundly, she wanted the opportunity to explore for herself.
What would it take to encourage another, especially when they hadn’t brought mistletoe back with them when they’d foraged for greenery?
There were only a few patrons that lingered in the room, and one of them had fallen asleep in his chair. She smiled at the others as she passed, but when her gaze accidentally connected with Elias’, heat blazed in her cheeks. Those stormy gray-green eyes reflected happiness but also burned with the same desire circling through her insides.
No, it probably wouldn’t take much encouragement at all to gain another kiss from him, and she horded that knowledge to her chest like the brightest treasure.
He was as doting and attentive as any woman could hope for, and at no time did he utter a complaint when he held out tin bells and glass balls for her to nest into the greenery. Though he didn’t speak much, he let her chatter on about traditions in her family and what she looked forward to from tomorrow. Already, that was more than she’d had from most of the men she’d been acquainted with, for men rarely listened with their full attention.
Elias did, and he asked questions when appropriate. There was a certain excitement about him, an air of mystery that hinted of far-off adventures. Knots pulled in her belly in an attempt to steal away the bit of joy she’d found in his embrace. How long would it be before he followed the siren’s call of the sea once more? And if they were to pursue the connection had had sprung between them, if he did wish to sail again, was it fair of her to hold him back from that? Yet if they were to want a future together, was it fair to her if he left?
With a shaking hand, she nestled a ball into the evergreens on the mantle. She slid her gaze to the captain, but his attention was on one of the boxes as he tried to decide between a tin bell and a clear glass ball. As if he felt her regard, he lifted his eyes and grinned.
“This has quite the domestic feel about it.” The delicate ball seemed dwarfed in his large hand, but he held it with all the tenderness he’d shown her.
“Is that such a bad thing, to find something you enjoy on land?” she asked softly, being certain to keep her attention on arranging the ball she’d just placed.
“Of course not, but there is nothing to say I can’t enjoy the novelty of it.”
“And you should, as much as you’d like.” She couldn’t help her smile. For all his world-traveling, he remained ignorant on the things that meant the most. “I’ll take the bell. The rest we’ll put on the tree.”
“All right.” He stepped over to her position, and when their fingers brushed as he gave her the bell, tingling heat danced up her arm. “It’s a pity we don’t have a sprig of mistletoe. Seems the Christmastide season isn’t complete without some.”
“Did you utilize the plant much onboard your ship with only your fellow sailors?” Helen found a place for the bell, and as it tinkled, she was put in mind of her childhood, and how the holiday had felt like home when her parents held the same excitement that she did.
“We did not, but then, we didn’t have a pretty lady on the ship, and since I have the honor of being in your presence, I rather wish we might have found the plant.” His grin bordered on this side of wicked. “Imagine a kiss when the clock strikes midnight.”
“A Christmas kiss.”
“Indeed.” Then the spell was broken, and he closed the lid on his box.
Helen’s heartbeat tripped into a rapid tattoo. This was the season of miracles, and perhaps Elias coming to the inn was hers. He’d certainly brought delight with him.
In that moment she made a decision. No matter what happened in the future, she would encourage him to go beyond a few kisses. At least then she wouldn’t go to her grave or don her old maid’s cap without having known what it felt like to be loved by a man, to be completely desired by someone in the heat of the moment.
Would he feel the same way, or would he remain a gentleman? Sometimes a woman doesn’t want to follow the rules. Sometimes, all she wishes for is the heated press of a body against hers and whispered words in the dark.
When he looked up and caught her eye, she smiled. “Thank you for the assistance. After we make the tree pretty with baubles, we’ll decorate with red ribbon.”
“In the Bavarian region, they clip tiny candles to the branches.”
“I’ll wager that looks splendid, but since I’m not in possession of such things, we’ll have to pretend. I think it will be wonderful anyway.”
“Indeed it will, for the sole reason that you are here.”
One of the patrons who lingered gave a bark of laughter. “Doing it up too brown, Captain. Miss Everly will never fall for pretty words. She plays too aloof and has rejected many of us out of hand over the years.”
“Mind your business, Mr. Rollins,” she said with heated cheeks. “I rejected you because none of you were the right fit.”
He waved a hand. “A woman like you can’t afford to be picky. Time marches on.”
Before she could respond, Elias cleared his throat. “Miss Everly has every right to choose a man who is the best fit for her, and if she doesn’t find that among the locals, who’s to say she won’t discover the man elsewhere?” He nodded at her. “Pay him no mind. He is not of the race who believes in magic or fate.”
“Do stop, the both of you.” Her heart trembled, for that was exactly what she’d thought of the many men who’d only wanted her for a quick tumble between the sheets. Elias was as different from them as a turkey was from a seagull. She picked up her box and moved through the room toward the evergreen table. Elias followed. “After breakfast tomorrow, I’ll scatter clove-studded orange peels about the greenery and put some in the fire. It’ll lend the tavern room a pleasant scent.”
“I can hardly wait.” He placed a few tin bells amidst the branches of the tree. At some point, he’d settled the trunk into the oaken container, only now there was a worn woolen muffler wrapped about the base and filling the top of the container.
She frowned. “Does that muffler belong to you?”
“Yes, but the tree needed shoring up, so now it belongs to the tree.”
“Won’t you need it when you leave the Brown Hart?” Here was a chance to ascertain what his immediate plans were.
“I choose not to dwell on anything beyond the current day. Let the future take care of itself, Helen,” he replied with a maddening grin that awoke the butterflies in her belly. “By the by, what did your mother do here on Christmas morning?”
“The same I’ve planned, but she also concocted a big bowl of wassail punch and Papa always put in a healthy dose of rum. It kept the joviality and goodwill going with the guests all day long.”
“I daresay that’s what we’ll do as well.” Then his eyes twinkled with mischief. “If we hurry and finish with the decorations, we can rouse some of the guests and have them sing a few carols. With the candles in the room lit and the fire snapping, it’ll lend a cozy atmosphere and perhaps bring a hint of nostalgia to some of these people who are far from home.”
“You wish for a party tonight?” The inn hadn’t seen such antics in many years.
“Why not?” When he shrugged, his jacket pulled tight across his shoulders, and her mind skittered into naughty thoughts of helping him off with that garment. “You said yourself Christmastide was your mother’s favorite. Why should everyone here not have a chance to pass the remainder of the night in celebration?”
“It’s a wonderful idea.” Helen lost another piece of her heart to him. “Perhaps I can convince the cook to donate some of her pastries meant for tomorrow to our cause tonight.”
His grin put heat into her cheeks. “If you can’t, I surely will. She and her kitchen maids have taken to ogling me regardless of whether I’m aware of it or not.”
“Well, you are quite handsome.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes. “Go. If you hurry, you can catch her before she retires.” If she weren’t careful, she’d fall for this man, and then where would that leave her?
An hour later, the buzz of laughter and conversation filled the tavern room. Tables and chairs had been shoved to the sides to make way for loitering people or even dancing. Apparently, her father’s mind was lucid enough that he joined the revelry with his fiddle, and the sweet notes of the instrument filled her ears while joy took hold of her heart, for he remembered the words to a few songs. A handful of sailors smoked pipes. Soon, the pleasant scents of apples, oranges, spices, and tobacco lingered in the air, and it was every bit the feeling of Christmastides past. Elias had procured enough food to feed an army that the sideboard fairly groaned with the largesse. There was even a bowl of rum punch he and Cook had assembled. Plus, most of the staff who worked at the inn had assembled to take part in the festivities.
Impromptu singing and dancing soon became the order of the night, and the captain was most popular with the women. To his credit, he knew the steps to most of the country reels and other popular dances through Port Isaac. Perfectly content to occupy a chair off to one side of the room, Helen watched with a smile. She couldn’t help but keep her attention on Elias, for he was quite handsome. He’d changed into a formal suit, complete with tails and a gold brocade waistcoat. Why he had such garments in his luggage was beyond her, but obviously he’d been used to a certain level of lifestyle before he landed in Port Isaac. Did he miss rubbing elbows with some of England’s upper crust?
Though a few of the sailors teased him about his fussy attire, he took it all in stride saying the eve of an important day as Christmas deserved a bit of respect. Then he stood before her, his eyes shining and a hand extended.
“Will you do me the honor of a dance?”
Heat slapped her cheeks. “I couldn’t.”
“Oh, but you should. It’s ever so entertaining.” He lowered his voice while pleading clouded his eyes. “If you don’t, Cook will claim me for another one, and she’s half-inebriated as it is.”
A giggle escaped Helen before she could recall it. “Poor thing. I didn’t realize you needed rescuing.” She put her fingers into his palm, and he drew her into a standing position.
“I do, and I’d like nothing better than to share a dance with you.” As if he had all the time in the world, the captain roved his gaze up and down her person. “Look at you, Helen, standing there in crimson taffeta as if you were decorated in Christmas itself.”
“It’s an old gown, but I’ve never had cause to wear it.”
“How easily I can picture you—us—outside amidst the snow-strewn world, perhaps near a frozen pond, inviting the holiday in with our finery.” Admiration gleamed in his eyes, and that goofy grin appeared, the one that sent tingles through her belly.
“How you do talk, but I appreciate the sentiment.” She smoothed her hand down the front of the dress as pleasure warmed her insides. It had been a long time indeed since she’d reaped genuine praise from a man. “Not nearly as fancy or fine as what women in London wear, I suspect.” To quell the nervousness that sent worry twisting through her belly, she patted her hair, traced the sprig of holly and berries she’d tucked in her just over her right ear. Did she appear too unsophisticated?
“You’re beautiful in it. Any man with half a brain would look at you tonight and promptly forget every other woman he’s ever seen.”
The noise and crowding of the room disappeared as she held his gaze. “Have you forgotten the one who broke your heart?” She could hardly get the words out from around the lump of emotion in her throat.
“I have, and that’s God’s honest truth.” Honesty shone in his eyes, and he reeled her a tiny bit closer to him. “If we were alone...” His let his words fade away but his eyes darkened the longer he stared at her.
Heat spread through her body. Anticipation tingled down her spine. “What would you do, Captain?” she asked softly.
“It doesn’t matter.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her middle knuckle. “But perhaps I’ll try and steal a kiss after a few cups of that rum punch.” When she didn’t comment, he sighed. “For now, I’ll settle for a dance.”
“Very well, but don’t grouse if I’ve forgotten the steps or make a fool of us both.”
“Never.” He led her toward the cleared space on the floor where another country reel was setting up.
A lovely twenty minutes passed as if it were the blink of an eye. She danced two sets with Elias before she begged off, plagued by a mixture of laughter and hiccups. Oh, it was a lovely night and much like the inn had been years before, when her father had been lively, and he’d taken an active part in life.
“Enough, I need to catch my breath.” Helen smiled at Elias. “Will you bring me a cup of punch? I’m suddenly parched.”
“Your wish is my command.” He treated her to an elegant half-bow from the waist before moving off to do her bidding.
Bemused, she joined her father and kissed his cheek. “I’m glad you were able to enjoy this impromptu party, Papa.”
“I am.” He nodded and looked toward Elias, where the captain filled two cups with punch. “Is he a suitor?”
“Oh.” Her cheeks heated. “I’m not sure.”
“Do you want him to be?”
Worry mixed with hope in her chest. “Perhaps but he’s a sea captain. He’ll leave me behind if I let him have my heart.”
“No, he might have been married to the sea at one time, but the lust of the water is no longer in his eyes.” He continued to watch Elias as the captain was obliged to take a convoluted path through the crowd. “He’ll be true to you, I think.”
She didn’t dare to believe the words. “I don’t know if I can risk heartbreak. After all, he’s only a guest here, Papa. He’s not mentioned plans for the future.”
Her father snorted. “How do you know you’re living if you don’t let your heart guide you?” He waved a gnarled, blue-veined hand. “Go, child. Live your life. This might be your only chance to have a husband and children. Lord knows you’ve wasted enough years by looking after me.”
“Not wasted. I wouldn’t have changed a thing.” Helen bit her bottom lip. “I won’t leave you.”
“Don’t be foolish, girl.” He patted her cheek. “Now, leave me be. I have playing yet to do before I forget again.”
“All right. Don’t stay up too late else I’ll worry.” With too many conflicting thoughts chasing about her head, she glided over the floor until she met Elias, who handed her a cup while people talked and laughed around them. “Thank you.” Gratefully, she sipped and then coughed. “What is in this punch?”
Elias grinned as he hooted with laughter. He took a sip. “Rum, brandy, perhaps whisky?” His shrug was an elegant affair. “One of the stable boys concocted it so be mindful when you consume. It’s quite a potent brew.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Helen took another taste. The alcohol burned her throat and made her eyes water. “I’ll have to work up a tolerance.” She flashed a smile. “This was a nice evening. I’ve enjoyed every second of it.”
“Agreed. It’s gone a long way into seeing me into the proper spirit.”
“Thank you for your part in making it come about. I could never have done this alone.”
“Truly, it was my pleasure.” He took her cup and then set them both on a nearby table. “Would you fancy more dancing?”
“I think not, but I wouldn’t mind a quiet conversation.”
“Capital idea.” Elias pulled her over to one side of the room. Once she settled into a chair near the hearth, he took one beside her. “Is there something on your mind?”
Oh, she really shouldn’t indulge in such folly that might destroy what was growing between them, but she needed to know of his plans. “Yes, actually.”
“Will you ask me a question, or shall I sit in suspense?”
“Do you intend to return to the sea?” She glanced into his face. “I ... I have rather enjoyed you being underfoot.”
Surprise flickered through his expression. “You have?”
“Yes, of course.”
He nodded. “This respite has been pleasant, I’ll admit, and has given me time to think.”
That was dangerous to a man who hadn’t put down roots. “When had you planned to leave Port Isaac?”
“I haven’t laid out a timeline. It depends on a few things, really.”
Cold disappointment circled through her chest. Her chin trembled while she blinked back the silly tears that sprang into her eyes. “You could always stay through Twelfth Night to help render a decision.”
“I could indeed.” A trace of vulnerability flitted through his eyes. What was he worried about? “Would you, ah, be amenable to my staying on so long?” Before she could formulate an answer, he rushed into the silence. “What I mean to say is, would you have the time to spend with me so we might come to know each other better?”
It wasn’t exactly confirmation or a declaration, but it was the next best thing. Heat sank into her cheeks that had nothing to do with the fire. “Of course. I’ll make certain of it. Is there a particular reason why?”
The hint of a flush rose above his collar. “You’re important to me, Helen; don’t discount that.” He didn’t say more, and neither did she, for it was enough.
But hope grew and bloomed deep inside her soul.