Mistletoe Wishes by Anna Campbell

Author:Anna Campbell [Campbell, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Anna Campbell
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 3

Canforth felt as nervous as a cadet on his first parade, instead of like a seasoned soldier of thirty-two, when he fronted at the drawing room on Christmas Eve.

His exquisite wife always made him feel like a bull at a tea party. She was so slight and graceful and perfect. The first time he saw her, he’d known Flick was the one for him. But he’d never quite conquered his shyness in her company. It was ridiculous, when he was capable of playing the rake with any other woman.

But then no other woman had ever mattered.

When they met, Flick had been sweetly innocent and unsure of herself. He’d wooed her gently, and that gentleness had continued into their honeymoon. They’d never quite fallen into being at ease with one other. Perhaps with more time, they’d have found their way. But he’d received his orders a fortnight after the wedding, and he’d had to leave her, still closer to a stranger than a wife.

That constraint remained as a gulf between them. She’d been shaking like a leaf when he kissed her under the mistletoe. While he’d been away, her image had fueled a thousand fantasies. But faced with the real Flick, any hope of a passionate reunion evaporated.

Ah, well, he was home now, and this time he’d do his damnedest to build a real marriage.

He’d feared that she’d find him repulsive, scarred and injured as he was. But there had been no mistaking the care in her touch when she’d traced his scar.

His Flick had a gallant heart. He’d never doubted that. The doubt was whether she’d grant that heart to him, the way that he’d granted her his, the first time he saw her.

When he came through the door, Digby at his heels, his wife sat sewing by the fire. Gratitude soothed the strife in his soul. Over the years, he’d dreamed about more than bed sport. He’d also longed for sweet domesticity. The comforts of home. A woman’s gentle voice to greet him. The promise of quiet happiness, stretching ahead like a golden road.

He sucked in a breath of air that didn’t stink of unwashed humanity, gunpowder, and blood. And felt his heart settle into a steady rhythm of hope.

He loved Flick. In time, she might come to love him. Once she’d recovered from her surprise, she’d been glad to see him. He’d wager eight years of a major’s salary on that. And she’d accepted his kiss, after conquering her bashfulness.

It wasn’t enough. But it was a start.

He smiled as he watched her over her embroidery. She attacked the stitching with the fierce concentration she devoted to everything that caught her attention. He recalled her searching stare the night they met, as if she already knew their first dance would change their lives forever.

This evening, she wore an elegant pink gown. What a contrast to the charming ragamuffin he’d discovered when he arrived. Now her shining mahogany hair was arranged in a loose knot that set off the pure oval of her face.

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