Page 22 of Christmas in a Castle

She threw her arms around her. “Mama!”

“Mary! Not in front of a duchess,” her mother chided, patting down her celestial-blue pelisse coat for any wrinkles and straightening her spectacles. “Lady Hampford is correct. I have never seen you in greater beauty, my dearest.”

Mary’s face felt wet, from tears or snowflakes, she could not tell. The butler helped her father down, and he took only one large step before hugging her tightly.

“My darling daughter,” her father said, “I can think of no one more deserving of such a happy ending.”

She stepped back to see him more clearly. Her father did not look as if he had aged even a day since their parting. “I am so glad you are here, Papa.”

Touching both of her cheeks, Mary turned to the duchess. “How did this all come about?”

Lady Hampford, who was an older version of Frederica, gave her a motherly smile. “When my husband wrote that he was playing matchmaker and that I needed to acquire a special wedding license for you, my dear Miss Perkins—and no marriage is complete without family—I made a slight detour on my travel back and picked up yours.”

Mary held out her hands to the duchess, who took them as she smiled down at her. The duchess was tall like Frederica and Becca.

“I cannot thank you enough, Your Grace.”

“No thanks are required. We consider you one of the family,” Lady Hampford said with another warm smile. “But perhaps we should go inside before we are all covered in snow.”

The duke offered his arm to his wife, and their daughters followed them. Mary’s parents appeared a little shocked by the easy manners of the ducal family and the great honor of being invited to stay at a castle. Mary took Trevor’s hand and led her parents inside. Harper closed the double doors behind them, and Mary felt a shiver crawl down her spine. She could hardly wait to be near a fire again. The duke and duchess went up the stairs together, leaving their daughters, Mary, and her family. Mary saw that Mrs. May, several maids, and footmen were standing in the hall ready to take her parents and their trunks to their rooms.

Her mother and father linked arms as they looked around the grand architecture. Mary knew from her own experience that Hampford Castle could be an imposing sight. Her mother whispered something in her father’s ear and pointed at the Tudor tapestries on the walls and the expensive trinkets on the tables. Her father took off his spectacles and wiped them with his handkerchief before putting them back on his face. He blinked rapidly, as if not quite believing what his eyes were seeing.

Her mother untied her bonnet and took it off. “Mary, can you please explain what precisely is happening? Lady Hampford mentioned that you were to be married on Christmas Eve. Did Squire Wallace finally come up to scratch?”

Trevor shook his head. “Alas, no, Mrs. Perkins. My uncle is still the miser he has always been, but I have been lucky enough to meet my maternal aunt, who is kind.”

Helen clapped her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Poor Trevor is going to be our father’s new chaplain, Mrs. Perkins.”

The yellow macaw flew down the staircase cawing, “Poor Trevor. Poor Trevor.”

“It was all my idea,” Becca said, pointing at herself as the bird landed on her shoulder.

Frederica elbowed her little sister. “But I helped.”

“He is not Poor Trevor anymore,” Mary said, putting her hand on his cheek and brushing his skin with her lips. “He is Lucky Trevor, for he gets to marry me on Christmas Eve.”

Helen clapped again and so did everyone else. “He is very lucky to have you, Miss Perkins!”

“Prim, proper, pretty,” Mademoiselle Jaune said, and no one disagreed with her.

Epilogue

Trevor carried Mary over the threshold of Ford Cottage—their new home. The front parlor was warm and beautiful. Mrs. Greenlow assured them on the doorstep that she had stocked the pantry with food and lit all the fires in the main rooms and that she would spend the night at the castle. He and his bride would finally be alone. As much as he appreciated the duke and his daughters, he wanted Mary to himself.

Reluctantly, he let Mary’s feet touch the wooden floor. He loved the feeling of her in his arms as he carried her. She had lifted him for nearly four years and now he could be her equal partner. She had taught him that love was merely given, not earned, and he had so much love to give her. Trevor watched as she slid off her gloves, took off her hat, and unbuttoned her coat. He helped her take off her pelisse and hang it on a hook near the door.

Patting her curls, Mary looked up at him. “Do I look all right?”

“You are the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.”

Her hands moved to her spectacles. “Surely not. I am an ordinary governess.”

Trevor gently removed her glasses and set them on the entry table next to them. “Then your glasses must be incorrect, for you are anything but ordinary. You are beautiful and I am so blessed to know you. I mean to shower you with love and kisses for the rest of your life.”

Leaning down, he kissed her softly, but his darling Mary did not want gentle. Her two hands tugged on the lapels of his coat, and she pressed her lips hard against his. Surprised, he stumbled a few steps, cradling her in his arms. When he retrieved his balance as much as a man can whilst kissing, he found Mary continuing to step backward toward the stairs. She climbed the initial step and for the first time they were eye to eye in height.

Mary gave him a breathless smile and then started tugging off his coat. Even faster than she had when it had been aflame during their original wedding proposal. Trevor watched it fall to the ground as she took another step up. She was taller than him now and pressed another burning kiss to his lips. Amazed, he opened his lips and felt her tongue slide into his mouth. Their tongues tangled. This new Mary was bold and brazen. He liked this version of her best of all. Her clever hands went to his cravat and she yanked it off and tossed it on the floor. Trevor went up two steps to meet her lips and her fingers as she started to undo the buttons of his shirt. He returned her kisses with all the fervor of his soul and even managed to undo some of her back buttons. They were small, delicate, and perfectly ordered like herself.

Kissing and unbuttoning, they made it to the top of the stairs. Trevor scooped her back up into his arms and carried her into their new bedchamber. With one foot, he kicked the door closed behind them.