Christmas morning dawned cold and bright. Having spent a restless night tossing and turning, Caroline considered pulling the blankets up over her head and sleeping the day away. But it was Christmas, and even if the last thing in the world she felt like doing was celebrating, she couldn’t ignore the holiday. Not when it was the only bright spot in an otherwise dismal month.

“Anne,” she called out, muffling a yawn as she sat up. “I’d like to get ready now.” Her pale eyebrows knitted together when there was no response. “Anne?” she said uncertainly. “Are you there?”

Perhaps the maid was down the hall. But when she hurriedly tiptoed across the freezing floorboards and opened her door, she didn’t see hide nor hair of Anne. In fact, she didn’t see anyone.

“That’s peculiar,” she muttered, casting a quick glance left and then right. The main hallway, usually a bustle of activity in the morning, was completely empty. Ducking back into her bedchamber, she quickly pulled on a pair of thick wool socks and knotted her dressing robe closed at the waist. Leaving her hair trailing down her back in a tangle of blonde curls, she went downstairs to discover the first floor was just as devoid of servants as the second had been. 

“Hello?” Confused, she turned in a slow circle. Where was everyone? “Is anyone here? Anne? Mr. Newgate? Cook?”

“I gave them all the day off.”

Caroline nearly jumped out of her socks when Eric suddenly appeared behind her. “Oh,” she gasped, slapping a hand over her racing heart as she whirled to face him. “You scared me!”

“Sorry,” he said, although he didn’t look very apologetic. “That was not my intention.”

Casually dressed in a white linen shirt and a pair of gray trousers with his hair damp and curling from a recent bath, he looked as handsome as she’d ever seen him. Not that she was looking. Because she wasn’t. Not at all.

Well, maybe a little bit. 

“What – what is going on?” she demanded, forcibly tearing her gaze away from the V of golden skin at the base of his neck. “Where is everyone?”

“Follow me,” he said mysteriously, before he turned and started walking briskly in the direction of the library.

“Wait! I do not understand – stubborn man,” she broke off under her breath when it became clear he had no intention of stopping. Picking up the hem of her nightgown she hurried after him, feet slipping and sliding on the polished floor.

Slightly out of breath, she managed to catch up to him just as he reached the library. “What are we doing here?” she asked. “And why is the door closed? It is never closed. Are Anne and Mr. Newgate in there?”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “To answer your second question no, your maid and my butler are not in there. As for your first, I thought this would be a fitting place to have it. After all, aside from your bedchamber this is where we’ve spent most of our time together. Granted the majority of it has been spent arguing, but I hope after today that will begin to change.”

She shook her head. “A fitting place to have what?”

“Christmas, of course.” He pushed open the door and then stepped to the side, allowing her an unfettered view of the library. What she saw took her breath away. There, taking up most of the fireplace, was the largest Yuletide log she had ever seen. And tied around the middle was a bright red bow. 

“I don’t…I don’t understand.” Eyebrows pulling together in bewilderment, she looked back at Eric over her shoulder. “Where – where did this come from?”

“The forest.”

“I know that. I meant what is it doing here?”

He walked past her into the library and then turned so they were standing face to face. “I cut it down and brought it here for you,” he said simply as he reached out and gently tucked a loose curl behind her ear. For a moment the back of his hand lingered on the soft curve of her cheek and it took all the self-restraint she possessed not to close her eyes and lean into his touch.

It’s an act, she told herself fiercely. It’s all an act. Do not let him play you for a fool. Not again.  

“If you did this as some sort of trick to try and seduce me–”

“I did this,” he interrupted, “because you were right.”

 She blinked. “I – I was?”

“Yes.”

“About what?”

His grin was charmingly sheepish. “Everything, mostly. But especially what you said last night about a few words not changing anything. I meant what I said, Caroline. I am falling in love with you. Or maybe I already have.” He shrugged. “I’ve never been in love before, so I’m not really sure.”

“Your Grace–”

“Eric,” he said. “If we are going to become engaged, I think you should call me Eric.”

“Engaged?” she echoed, truly at a loss. “But we’re already married!”

“No we’re not. You married the Duke of Readington.”

“You are the Duke of Readington.” Her eyes narrowed with suspicion as she took a step back. “Are you foxed? Is that why you’re acting so oddly?”

“I am not foxed and I am not the Duke of Readington.” His gaze hardened. “The Duke of Readington is a cold-hearted bastard who wouldn’t know what love was if it ran him over in the street. He doesn’t deserve his wife, and she bloody well doesn’t deserve him. His wife is kind, and intelligent, and beautiful, while he is–”

“A dolt?” she suggested.

“Yes,” he agreed without hesitation. “He’s a right proper dolt.”

“And who is Eric?” she asked softly as a tendril of warmth began to unfurl inside of her chest, spreading up through her lungs and surrounding the ice that had hardened around her heart.

“Eric is a man who wants a second chance. He knows he’s not entitled to it, but he prays to God you’ll give it to him nevertheless. I love you, Caroline,” he said huskily. “I am sorry it took me this long to realize it. And I am sorry, so bloody sorry, that I’ve treated you as though you meant nothing to me.”

“Eric–”

“You were never nothing, Caroline.” His blue eyes steady on hers, he closed the distance between them. “You were always everything. And that terrified me because I didn’t want to end up like my father, in love with a woman incapable of loving him back. But what I understand now, that I didn’t before, is whatever my parents had, it was never love.” He took her hands. Squeezed them tight. “This is love.”   

“What – what about having a marriage of convenience?” She wanted to believe him. She wanted to believe him so desperately that she ached. But for better or for worse, she was no longer the naïve girl who had blindly believed in fairy tales and happily-ever-afters. She was stronger. Braver. And she would never again settle for anything less than what she deserved.

“I don’t want convenience.” He laced their fingers together. “I want you. I want you not because of what you can give me, but because you make me happy. You bring light into my darkness, Caroline. So I want you. Just you. For the rest of my life.”

“What are you doing?” She stared at him in disbelief when he dropped down to his knee and pulled the gold band she’d tried to throw into the fire out of his pocket.

“Asking you to marry me. Properly, this time.” He looked up at her countenance, and whatever he saw in the swirling depths of her gray eyes made him smile. “Lady Caroline Elizabeth Wentworth, would you do me the great honor of being my wife?” He paused. “Again.”

“Well at least you remembered my name this time,” she said, blinking back tears.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes.” She dashed her knuckles beneath her lashes. “Yes, I do believe it is.”

He gently slid the ring onto her finger and then leapt to his feet to pull her into a hard, lingering embrace. “I love you,” he said fiercely. “I love you so bloody much. And I’m going to spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

“I love you too,” she said, smiling through her tears. “I love you too.”

Together they lit the Yuletide log and stood wrapped in each other’s arms as it caught fire and started to burn. With a contended sigh Caroline rested her head on Eric’s shoulder, and he pressed his lips to her hair. It wasn’t the Christmas either one of them had been expecting.

But that was what made it so perfect.