As the date for the ball grew closer, Merry realized that Edward was reconnecting with his former neighbors. Some of them had previously expressed dissatisfaction because Edward had deserted the neighborhood when he came into the earldom. Now almost everyone sang his praises. The men described him as “the best of fellows” because he had invited all the gentlemen to hunt with him. And the ladies were also enthralled, reporting that there was “nothing high in the instep” about Edward despite his now being an earl.
Edward had invited many of his new relatives to the ball as well. Merry had first made the suggestion herself, but now she was having second thoughts. If all of them were as self-absorbed as Regina, they were bound to make a bad impression on the Summerton neighbors and the ball might end up a resounding failure.
In fact, with all the attention from his neighbors and his newfound acquaintances, Edward seemed to have little time to spend at his own estate of late. Since the greenery gathering, Merry had seen him on just a handful of occasions, usually in passing. She suspected he was purposefully avoiding her.
If she had possessed less pride, she would have found a reason not to attend the ball. Mrs. Everton had insisted on including the waltz in this year’s dances, and Merry could not stop herself from visualizing Edward and Regina or some of his other sophisticated relatives swirling around the ballroom in each other’s arms.
Nor could she stop recalling Mrs. Everton’s summer ball over two years ago when she and Edward had been so much in love. They’d shared two dances—country dances, nothing so scandalous as a waltz—and she’d been so filled with joy, she’d half expected to float up amongst the chandeliers where she would have sparkled as brightly as that multitude of candles.
Unfortunately, there’d be no similar joy for her at this ball. She understood that. But she’d initiated the event, and she would see it through, no matter how much heartache she suffered as a result. As the fete drew closer, the weeks dwindling down to days, Merry’s imagination grew more and more vivid, tormenting her with all the things she longed for but could not have.
On the evening of the ball, Merry reluctantly allowed her maid to help her into her new gown. Had she been left to her own devices, she would have worn last year’s dress, but her mother had insisted on having the village seamstress sew a lovely new gown for Merry—a pale green satin with an overdress of lace and rows of entwined ivy embroidered around the hem and the modest neckline.
Merry’s mother was slow getting dressed that evening and so they were among the last to arrive. The receiving line had already dispersed and the musicians were playing a jaunty reel. Merry had hoped to slip down the hall and back to the kitchens to help ensure that the refreshments were being prepared properly, but as soon as a footman relieved her of her wrap, Edward appeared at her side. He looked unusually handsome in his formal evening clothes, and the tender smile on his face set her heart to skipping in some strange rhythm as though it was trying to keep pace with the reel the orchestra was playing.
“There you are at last,” Edward murmured, taking her hand and escorting her into the ballroom. “I have been watching for you.”
Merry blinked. “You surprise me, my lord. I had not been under the impression that you were particularly interested in my company.”
“Then you would be wrong. The orchestra is going to be playing a waltz soon, Merry. Will you dance it with me?”
“You want to waltz with me?” Merry blinked in amazement. Many of their neighbors, she knew, still considered the waltz improper for any couple not married or betrothed. What was Edward thinking?
He smiled, and Merry wasn’t sure if it was a trick of the candlelight or truly a hint of wickedness she spotted in the crinkles around his eyes. “I certainly do want to waltz with you,” he said.
Merry glanced around. She and Edward were already attracting attention. Was it her imagination or were people regarding them with fond expressions much as they had at that summer ball two years ago? Surely people realized those days were part of the past now.
Edward grasped her hand. “Will you dance with me, Merry?”
Should she? This might be the only chance she’d ever have to waltz with Edward. After Christmas, he’d no doubt return to Branford Manor and take up his life there again. And she would be left behind again.
But she’d have a waltz to remember.
“Yes, Edward, I’ll waltz with you.”
His smile was so wide, she almost believed he still loved her. Unfortunately, she knew she still loved him.
Just at that moment, as if on cue, the orchestra played the opening notes of a waltz, and Edward, who still held her hand, pulled her gently into his arms.
And then she was floating again, just as she’d imagined herself doing two years previously. Edward was a superb dancer who guided her around the floor with such ease that her feet seemed to glide effortlessly and joyously.
Neither spoke during the dance, for which Merry was thankful. She didn’t want the magic of those few minutes interrupted by speech. But of course it all drew to a close much too soon. The notes of the music died away, and Edward released her.
“Thank you for the dance, my dear Merry,” he said. “I’ve longed to waltz with you for ages. Now I have another favor to ask.”
What on earth was wrong with Edward tonight? First he’d asked her to waltz with him and then called her his dear and even used her first name. She swallowed. “A favor?”
“Yes, I’ve just discovered some important facts. I need to talk to you. Will you join me in the library?”
“Now?” Merry raised her brows. “Perhaps it has escaped your attention, my lord, but there’s a ball in progress.” She glanced around her, hoping to find some excuse to avoid a tete-a-tete with Edward, but unfortunately, no one came to her rescue. Still, she was not quite ready to give in. “I should probably find your mother and see if she needs my help. Can this conversation not wait until tomorrow?”
“I’m afraid not. It’s of critical importance that I talk with you right this minute.”
She swallowed hard. Being alone with Edward was certain to start rumors flying and she still had her reputation to think of. At the same time, she was curious. “Oh, very well.”
“Thank you.” Edward led the way down the corridor and into the library. Once there, he walked to the desk, picked up a rather large bundle of papers, and held it out to her.
She had paused just inside the door. When she made no move to take the papers, Edward walked back to her. “Please, Merry. I’d like you to see these.”
She took the bundle, which was several inches thick and tied with a ribbon. “What is this?”
“All the letters I wrote you after I inherited the earldom. You’ll find dozens of them. At first I wrote every day, then every other day, and after that, every week for months. Finally, after I was told you had accepted a marriage proposal from another man, I stopped writing.”
“What?” Merry stared at him. “How could this be? I never received any of these letters and I certainly never accepted a proposal.”
“I know that now. I had a very interesting visit yesterday from a footman who’d traveled from Branford Manor to see me.”
Merry looked at Edward in confusion. “What does this have to do with me?”
“I learned that Regina had bribed the man to intercept all of my letters to you. She also forged a letter to me that was supposedly from the local rector saying that you were engaged to another man and I should quit writing to you.”
“Merciful heavens! How did you learn the truth?”
“Robert had kept the letters, rather than burning them as Regina had told him to do. Unfortunately, the man had developed quite the gambling habit, so he offered me the letters for a price. I paid him and then fired him.”
Merry’s head reeled as she flipped through the papers in her hand. All these letters… All that time, Edward hadn’t forgotten about her and turned his back on her. He’d written dozens of letters.
“But what of Regina?”
He frowned. “I dispatched her yesterday, back to her parents’ home near the border with Scotland. I doubt we’ll see her again.” Edward’s stony countenance lightened. “But let’s not discuss her any further. I know it’s been two years since we had originally planned to talk to your father, but I visited him yesterday and told him what Regina had done. I also asked for his permission to marry you and he agreed. So Merry, if you’re still willing, I’d like to announce our engagement at the ball this evening.”
Merry felt tears gathering in her eyes. Under other circumstances, she might have enjoyed having her engagement announced at the Christmas ball, but not this way. It was all happening so fast. She had come to the ball mentally prepared to let Edward go again, to see him return to the life he’d built in another place while she stayed behind grieving.
A life in which she’d had no part.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry, Edward, but it’s too late. You’ve moved on. You’re an earl now, and you’ve had time to grow accustomed to the role. I could never fit into your world.”
“Nonsense, my dear. You already do. No one but you could have planned a function blending the two aspects of my life so successfully. You would be the perfect hostess for both Summerton Hall and Branford Manor. Please say you’ll accept my proposal and become my countess.”
Edward was offering her the sort of life she once had thought would be hers for the taking: as his wife, his hostess, his helpmeet. But it did not escape Merry’s notice that the one thing he had not offered was his love. And having had it once, she knew it was the one item she could not live without.
She closed her eyes and listened to the faint strains of the orchestra drifting in from the ballroom. She inhaled the fragrances that were so reminiscent of the season—the sharp scent of pine boughs arranged on the mantel and the sweet hint of applewood burning in the hearth. And her body absorbed the nearness of the man she loved—the warmth emanating from his skin and the steady sound of his breathing. This, she realized, would be the essence of Christmas for her in the future when she thought back on this occasion.
When she remembered why she was alone.
She opened her eyes and gazed into Edward’s face. Lines of anxiety bracketed his mouth, and the flare of his nostrils suggested he knew what she intended to say.
She parted her lips and blew her breath out in a sigh. “No, Edward. I thank you for the honor, but I will not marry you. I’m leaving now. Goodbye.”
He didn’t try to stop her, and she did not stop herself although she had excellent excuses for staying. She just had better reasons for leaving.