Mistletoe and Mayhem: A Regency Holiday Romance Anthology, page 70
“It’s a speckled wonder of green and white from up here,” she said.
Rhys came to stand behind her. Wister lay her head back against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her waist. They had only made the first step from being friends to possibly something else over the past few days, but already she was comfortable in his embrace.
“All of Wales is green—though they do say that Carno is a hundred shades of verdant emerald. You should see it in the Spring. Legend has it that Saint Patrick picked up a piece of Ireland and gifted it to Saint David on this side of the Irish Sea, and that is where Carno began.”
She chortled softly. “I think you might have just made that story up.”
He gasped in feigned outrage. “Are you saying we Welsh are tellers of tall tales?”
Wister turned in Rhys’s arms and grinned up at him. “Not exactly. I just think you are trying to impress me, Baron Carno.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Am I succeeding?”
She paused for a moment, suddenly unsure of herself. There were many things she wanted to tell him, but the fear of uncertainty over her future with Rhys held her back. What was she to say?
Her bravery faltered. A change in subject the only way out. “Why did you bring me to Wales?” she asked.
The frown on his face immediately told her that Rhys didn’t like her answering his question with a different one.
Hold fast now, Wister. Don’t let your foolish heart allow you to make a fateful decision that you later come to regret. Rhys has to be prepared to give you everything. Settle for nothing less than what you deserve.
He loosened his hold and she took a step back. “Wister, I brought you here because I have two major life-changing decisions to make, both of which require your opinion. The first being, what am I to do with Carno Castle? Do I sell Kington House and put all my money into restoring some of the ruins here, which means remaining in Wales? Or do I give up my ancestral home and try to make the other estate pay?”
She could understand why Rhys was torn. The decision was a difficult one. “I don’t know if I can give you an answer to that question. Well at least not right now.”
Rhys met her gaze and held it. “Wister, please. Take a walk around the grounds. Look at the place. You have been running Kington House for over a year, so you have a good idea as to how much things cost. I value your opinion highly and would like to know what you think.”
She considered his request. It was a difficult decision and she could appreciate why he would wish for a second opinion. “Alright, I will do some sums and then give you my considered thoughts. But I will also take into account your family’s heritage and ties to this place as part of my recommendations. This is Morgan land and your bloodline will forever be bound to Carno Castle.”
After leading her back down to ground level, Rhys left Wister in the castle grounds while he went to check on arrangements at the gatehouse. He had given her a tough challenge, but she felt more than up to the task.
Wister took a deep breath as Rhys disappeared out of the main part of the castle ruins, leaving only his footprints in the snow. Alone with her thoughts, she pondered the conundrum he had set for her. Carno Castle was Rhys’s spiritual home, but it was also a shattered ruin. Moving to Kington House would mean him leaving Wales and setting up in England. Not a small ask.
She turned and slowly tracked her gaze around the ruins of Carno Castle. This was a decision not just for today, but for future generations of the Morgan family. A family that she desperately wished to make hers.
Chapter Nineteen
From the upper floor of the stone gatehouse, Rhys watched Wister. She stood for a short while where he had left her. Her hand was to her mouth, which he took to be a good sign. Wister always adopted that particular pose when she was deep in thought. It meant she was taking her time and giving serious consideration to his question.
Carno Castle had been in the Morgan family’s possession for over six hundred years, but what had once been a powerful fortress was now little more than a crumbling ruin. Rhys loved the place—it was part of his soul. Morgan family blood had been shed on Carno’s dark soil.
He cracked open the window and let the chill air in. Down below, Wister was now pacing back and forth across the old castle bailey. Her steps, marked out in the snow, were even and measured.
What on earth are you doing?
When she stopped and pulled out her trusty notebook from her coat pocket, he smiled. She was doing exactly as he had asked. Measuring, checking, calculating how much it would cost to bring the castle back to life.
His smile disappeared as she slowly shook her head and put the notebook away. She had barely written in it.
Rhys had his answer.
Your history lies in this land, but your future is elsewhere
Chapter Twenty
Wister made her way up the narrow winding staircase to the top floor of the gatehouse. She took her time, knowing that as soon as she and Rhys were together again, he would press her for an answer. Carno Castle or Kington House?
He was waiting for her in the doorway of the grand hall. Rhys ushered her inside and closed the door. From the hooks and markings on the wall, she guessed this had once been the main living quarters for the castle guards. The room itself was not much bigger than the dining room at Kington House.
He shrugged as their gazes finally met. “When the family moved here following the castle’s destruction, some wit decided this room was large enough to be called grand.”
If she had not been in such a pensive mood, Wister may have thought the remark worthy of a chuckle. But she was more concerned with Rhys’s reaction to what she was about to say. “Before I offer up my opinion, I want you to understand that I do not have an attachment to either here or Kington House,” she said.
“Exactly. That’s why I want your opinion. It won’t be clouded with emotion.”
Wister pulled the book from out of her coat pocket and set it down on a nearby table. She opened it and placed her finger in the middle of the page where she had written but a scant number of notes. “If you sell Kington House and try to restore Carno Castle, it will likely bankrupt you. The money from your English estate will barely cover the costs to restore the outer walls, roof, and possibly the first floor. It will also leave you with little to no income.”
Rhys nodded. “Go on.”
“Having worked at Kington House for over three years, I know it has solid potential. If you could get the estate to generate an ongoing cashflow, it would allow you to fix up the house. That does not mean that you would abandon Wales completely. You could use some spare money, if and when you have it, to keep up the maintenance on your Carno holdings.”
It all made sound business sense to her, but it would mean Rhys having to give up on his dream of restoring his ancestral home. Only clear logic would help to soften that blow.
“I’m sorry, Rhys. I can tell by the way you talk about this place that it means a lot to you. And if it were my family home, I too would want to save it. But the reality of the ravages of time has to be faced. You cannot saddle future generations of the Morgan clan with the expense of trying to maintain Carno Castle.”
If Rhys took that prideful route, it would make the castle a burden for his children. As Wister saw it, he had a duty to preserve their financial inheritance and give them options. She knew a great deal about living a life without choices.
“Thank you, Wister. As always you make clear and reasoned sense. So, we pack up most of my things and take them back with us to Kington House. Our new life together will be in England.”
Wister closed the notebook. The time had come to force Rhys’s hand. He either finally confessed his love for her or she gave notice. She refused to ever again live a half-life. “I can help to get Kington House back in order, after which I will leave. You need to marry at some point, Rhys, and it wouldn’t be fair on your wife, for me to remain at Kington House. I love you, but not even for you will I live the life of a fallen woman.”
He sighed. “Once again I have muddled my words and made them come out all wrong. Wister, I am not offering for you to be my mistress…Just a minute…Did you just say you love me?”
Wister nodded. “Yes, I did. You baffle me at times, but I love you, Rhys Morgan.”
He quickly rummaged around in his coat pocket, then finally produced a small brown box. He handed it to her. “I love you too, Wister. Perhaps this will make things clearer.”
With tremulous fingers, Wister took the box. Her pulse began to race as hope flared in her heart.
He loves me.
“Open it,” he said.
The box and its top were joined by a spring which creaked as Wister lifted the lid. Inside was a round silver brooch of ancient design. She ran the tip of her finger over the top of the markings which decorated the jewel.
“The pattern is meant to represent the Welsh dragon. If you look closely, you can see the dragon’s scales,” said Rhys.
“It looks very old,” she replied.
He gently took the box back from her and removed the brooch. Wister fought back tears as Rhys opened her coat and pinned the trinket to the top of her gown.
“It is a priceless Morgan family heirloom. My mother used to wear it.”
“Oh, Rhys, I love it.” A soft kiss met her lips.
“And I love you. I should have said it before we left England. I just wasn’t sure how you would take hearing those words, and then they got all tangled up in my mind.”
Rhys dug into his pocket once more and went down on bended knee before her. He held up a ring. Wister placed her hand over her heart at the sight of the incredible piece of jewelry. The band might have been plain gold, but the glistening emerald which sat atop it was nothing short of stunning.
“Marry me, Wister. Be my baroness. My wife.”
Wister slowly blinked, mesmerized by the fiery glow of the green stone. “Yes. Yes. Oh, forever and always, yes,” she finally replied.
Rhys took hold of her hand and slipped the ring onto her finger. He got to his feet, softly chuckling. “I finally got something right.”
Hot tears sprang to her eyes as the heady mix of relief and joy course through her. “Yes, you did. Everything is perfect.”
Rhys wrapped her up in his embrace and held on tight. Wister sent a prayer to heaven that he would never let her go. This man was the one thing she had been waiting all her life for—her soul mate. She would never again be alone in the world.
Wister glanced at the ring on her finger. The emerald was set above a gold flower. Like the brooch, it was old—another Morgan family treasure.
Rhys wrapped his hand around hers and lifted it to his lips, placing a soft kiss on her skin. “The flower is a daffodil, the national flower of Wales. This ring has been in my family for some three hundred and fifty years. Every baroness during that time has worn it. It was one of the few things that the Morgan family managed to salvage when the castle burned.”
“I hope to do it honor,” she replied, her voice shaky with emotion.
“If there is one thing, I know about you, Wister York, it’s that you do everything with integrity and grace.” As another kiss found its way to Wister’s lips, Rhys released her hand and slipped his arm around her waist. He nuzzled against her neck and whispered, “Thank you for your wise advice about the castle.”
She pulled back and their gazes met. “I hope you can see my reasons. If we had the money, I would love to see this place reborn, but it would take a king’s ransom.”
“Yes. In fact, it was basically the decision I had already come to, but I wanted your unbiased opinion. You are right. If I try to rebuild the castle, I will effectively ruin the Morgan family. All that I will have left to pass on to our son will be a worthless title.”
Children. She had pushed the dream of having a family to the dark corner of her hopes. While she had been trapped at Kington House, the chance of Wister finding a loving husband had been slim.
Or so she’d thought. Until the morning a Welsh baron had walked into the orchard and sat down beside her. From that very moment, he had stolen her heart.
“Once we get Kington working properly again, then we should look to see what we can do for Carno. Repairs to the tenants’ houses and perhaps building something for the village. A schoolhouse or a moot hall? You are still their lord and we need to remain connected to this place,” she said.
“Which is why I want us to be married here in Carno. Part of the old chapel still remains in the castle grounds, so we can hold the wedding ceremony here. We just need to make a trip back to Newtown to obtain a common license from the archdeacon. He will be available this coming Thursday and has already agreed to perform the service.”
Wister rose up on her toes and placed a soft, enticing kiss on Rhys’s lips. The fact that he knew where and when to get a license meant that his marriage proposal wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing. He had been thinking about it since before they left Kington House. It meant a great deal to know that despite his muddled words, Rhys had already chosen her as his future wife.
“That sounds wonderful. Though I don’t know what Deri will make of it when he discovers that you have beaten him to the altar,” she replied.
“We will have a proper wedding breakfast with him and Sophie in London at Christmas. It will be in place of our annual orphan’s Christmas supper which I am more than happy to retire. I want to take you to town and buy you all the things you will need as Baroness Carno. And to show you off to people.”
Rhys tightened his arms around her once more and Wister felt the telltale hardness of his manhood jutting against her stomach. She was not going to ignore it this time. They were alone in the gatehouse. The nearest people were a good hundred yards or so away in the village. There was no one to disturb them. She rubbed her body against him and gave him her best sultry smile.
He brushed a lock of her dark hair back from her face.
“That is for the future. Right this minute I want to concentrate on us, and the fact that you have far too many clothes on,” he said.
She narrowed her eyes at him. “What are you asking for, Baron Carno? I will have you know I am a betrothed woman. I am certain my fiancé will have something to say about your wickedness.”
“Rest assured, your fiancé knows all about being wicked.”
A deep, sexy chuckle was the reply. Rhys nipped at her earlobe and all of Wister’s resolve melted away. There was a ring on her finger, a marriage agreed, and nothing to stop them. It was time to claim him as her very own.
She swiped a hand over the bulge in his trousers and gave a gentle, inviting squeeze. “Rhys. Take me to bed. Make me yours.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Her future husband may well have had his moments of indecisiveness, but now was not one of them. No sooner had the words left her lips than Rhys had scooped Wister up and was carrying her toward the bed.
She was more than happy to let him take the lead. He made swift work of the buttons on the front of her gown, then took her gently into his arms and kissed her. Soft, tender kisses which held a thousand secret promises.
She helped him out of his coat and jacket before toying with the ties of his cravat. “You know this is not my first time. If that is a problem for you, please tell me now,” she said.
He shook his head. “Wister, there is one thing you have always been with me, and that is honest. I am glad you trusted me enough to share your past. But no, it is not a problem for me. It never will be. Besides, it means that you and I can become lovers without either of us having to worry about you being inexperienced.”
She tugged the long white linen of his cravat free and tossed it on the floor, earning herself another long, slow kiss for her efforts. Their mouths fused in a toe-curling encounter that set her pulse racing. There was something about Rhys that she couldn’t get enough of, an attraction she had never felt toward another man.
“Lift your arms,” she whispered.
Grabbing the sides of his shirt, Wister slid it up his body. Rhys helpfully bent and allowed her to pull the garment over his head. When he righted himself, she got her first full view of his naked torso.
No towel to keep your magnificence from my gaze.
Her mouth went dry.
The light dusting of dark hair on his chest had her fingers itching to touch. As she reached out her hand, he shook his head. “No touching until I get to see your breasts. Then you can do with me all you wish.”
Her eyes grew wide and she gasped in mock indignation. “Why, Baron Carno, what would make you think I am going to allow you to view my naked skin?”
“This,” he replied.
He placed a hand either side of her unbuttoned gown and tore it open all the way to the waist, baring her breasts. Before she had time to react, he yanked the skirts down, leaving them to pool at her feet.
Her thick, woolen, and very functional stockings were all that remained.
Wister laughed. “And here was me worrying that you Welsh might be a little reserved when it came to sex.”
He chuckled deeply. “Mae'r holl ddyddiau glawog hynny'n golygu ein bod ni'n treulio llawer o amser y tu mewn.”
“Which means?”
“Lots of days spent inside because of the rain. Fear not, my love, we Welsh know how to spend a long time in bed, and what to do.”
Rhys lifted Wister clear of her gown and lay her on the bed. He then knelt on the floor beside it. Firm hands dragged her bottom to the edge of the mattress. He draped her legs over his shoulders. Heat raced to her cheeks at the prospect of him staring straight at her sex.
“Lie back,” he commanded.
Wister had some sexual experience, but this was something entirely new. Her stockings were peeled from her legs, their warmth replaced with Rhys’s hot lips.
Slowly he worked his way up, crisscrossing kisses back and forth. When the heat of his breath touched the edge of her sex, she gripped the blankets and held on.
