A Viscount for Christmas
Book 1 in the Christmas Scandals series.
An unexpected Christmas gift…
When Viscount Isaac Thornton returns home for his mother’s annual Christmas gathering, the last thing he expects to find is a beautiful woman sleeping in his bed. But Celia isn’t yet another woman trying to trap him into marriage. She’s his younger sister’s best friend and now she’s all grown up.
Celia Rowland outgrew the infatuation she had for Thornton years ago. When a misunderstanding means she’s been compromised, her mother insists they get married.
One house party and two people trying to escape a forced wedding who just might get the Christmas gift they didn’t know they wanted.
A VISCOUNT FOR CHRISTMAS was previously released in the multi-author anthology Christmas Kisses. It is a Regency Historical Romance and contains the following themes: compromised heroine, scandal, best friend’s brother, stranger in his bed, house party.
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Excerpt:
December 1816
It was past midnight when Viscount Isaac Thornton reached his estate in Surrey. He’d been on horseback for several hours. Normally the ride wasn’t a difficult one, but with the cold temperatures, he’d needed to stop frequently to change horses.
Filled with a bone-deep fatigue that emphasized the unwelcome fact he’d recently passed his thirtieth birthday, all he wanted to do was sleep. He wasn’t looking forward to the next week. His mother’s yearly Christmas party would be yet another opportunity for her to remind him he needed to settle down and produce an heir. He couldn’t avoid his mother’s matchmaking altogether, but he could limit the duration of his suffering. Which was why he’d originally planned to arrive the day before Christmas and depart again the day after the holiday.
She’d successfully thwarted those plans with the greatest weapon in her arsenal—guilt. He’d received her letter that afternoon. In it, she told him how much she looked forward to spending quality time with him. She’d gone on to inform him that his two younger sisters, who lived in the north of England, wouldn’t be attending because the roads were impassable after a heavy snowfall that hadn’t reached Surrey. To alleviate what he knew would be her very real disappointment, he’d changed his plans and set out to join her when her house party would still be in full swing.
If he were being honest with himself, London had become tedious of late, especially after his friends and most of his acquaintances quit town and headed to their own estates for the holiday season. His mother’s letter was a convenient excuse to return home earlier than planned.
He apologized to the sleepy groom who greeted him moments after he reached the stables. He was relieved to discover the manor was quiet as he made his way to the front door on foot. Perhaps his mother hadn’t invited that many people this year.
But even as the thought occurred to him, he knew it was a futile wish. Christmas was his mother’s favorite time of the year, and she was known for her winter house parties. This year wouldn’t be any different.
He was surprised when the front door was opened by Saunders, their butler, and not a footman. He’d hoped to surprise his mother, but apparently she knew him too well. She’d expected him to set out for Surrey after receiving her letter.
He greeted the older man and handed him his hat and greatcoat, barely taking in the evergreen boughs and festive decorations that tastefully highlighted the fact the festive season was upon them. He’d started toward the stairs when Saunders coughed discreetly.
Thornton turned to face him.
“Your mother wishes to speak with you, my lord.”
Thornton frowned. No doubt she wanted to tell him who she’d invited and why he should pay particular attention to each one of them. He’d just arrived, and already the matchmaking had begun.
He nodded. “I’ll speak to her in the morning.”
“She insisted—”
Thornton wouldn’t take his annoyance out on this man whom he’d known since he was a child. Saunders was merely carrying out Lady Thornton’s instructions.
“I already know what she wants to speak to me about.”
“But—”
“Good night, Saunders. I’ll speak to my mother first thing in the morning. And get some rest yourself.” The man had no doubt been awake since dawn.
Before Saunders could say another word, Thornton turned and made his way upstairs.
He didn’t ring for his valet when he reached his bedroom, too tired to care about the lecture the man would deliver tomorrow as he tossed his clothes onto a chair.
It was dark, but he didn’t need to light a candle. He made his way to the bed and slid under the covers. His eyes were closing when a small movement on the other side of the bed chased away his fatigue.
He was imagining things. Or, more likely, he’d already fallen asleep and was dreaming. Still, he was wide awake now. He rolled over and narrowed his gaze on the other side of the bed, where he could see a small bundle wrapped in his blankets.
In retrospect, he should have sprung from the bed and thrown on his clothes. But he didn’t really expect to find anything, and so he pulled back the bedsheets. It took his befuddled senses several seconds to process the fact he wasn’t alone.
Someone was already asleep in his bed—a woman, to be precise. She lay with her back to him, and he could only stare at her for what felt like the longest minute of his life.
His fumbling in the dark hadn’t caused her to move, so she must be asleep. His gaze took in the long golden hair that covered most of her back. Unbound, which surprised him. Unable to stop himself, he gazed down to where her hair ended just above the curve of her hip, which was covered in a white nightgown. The blankets covered the rest of her, and he resisted the temptation to drag them down even farther.
Casting aside the temptation to see whether she would be well endowed, he shifted onto his back and slung a hand over his eyes. He doubted very much that his mother had arranged this woman as a welcome-home present for him. She’d probably wanted to warn him that she had given away his room to another guest.
Which meant he had to dress again and find a servant to lead him to a room that was unoccupied.
He rose to a seating position with a muffled groan. He thought he’d been quiet, but the shifting of his weight must have woken the woman, because she rolled onto her back. Her eyes blinked open, and she let out a sleepy yawn. And then a scream.
That should have had him moving with alacrity, gathering up his clothes and escaping into the dressing room. But his brief glimpse at her form before she’d pulled up the bedcovers caused him to freeze. In the dim light, he could see that she was, indeed, well endowed.
Why did these things never happen to him under better circumstances? For it was clear now that he wasn’t dreaming. If he were, she would have beckoned him to her with open arms. Instead, the woman in his bed had gathered up the blankets and held them to her breast like a shield.
“What are you doing here? You must leave at once!”
Yes, this wasn’t a dream. “This is my bedroom.”
Her mouth gaped open before she closed it with a snap. “You’re not suggesting…” She took a deep breath and began again. “We can sort out this mess tomorrow morning. But a gentleman would leave without question and find another bedroom.”
He couldn’t resist teasing her. “Perhaps I’m not a gentleman.”
She sputtered, speechless. Taking pity on her, he slipped from the bed with a soft curse.
“I don’t know why you’re upset. I’m the injured party here.”
Something about the prim tone of her voice seemed familiar. He strode to the window and drew back the curtains to let in some of the moonlight. Then he returned to the bed—the side the woman occupied—and leaned forward to examine her. She leaned back with a squawk.
His eyes roamed over her face. Blond hair, blue eyes… she could have been anyone. But then he saw the small mole at the corner of her right eye.
“Celia Rowland?”
She huffed out an impatient breath. “That’s Miss Rowland to you, my lord. Now will you please leave?”
He had to give her credit. Another woman might have given in to a fit of vapors at finding a man in her bed, but not Celia. He remembered her only as his youngest sister’s friend. She’d been pretty, and he remembered finding her sweet, but she’d also been much too young for him the last time he’d seen her. He couldn’t deny that she’d grown into a beautiful young woman.
He didn’t miss the way her gaze dipped to his bare chest and couldn’t hold back his smirk. “Like what you see?”
Her eyes met his again. “I was merely—”
“Admiring my fine form? Wondering if you’d asked me to leave too soon?”
She let out an impatient huff. “Is it your intention to compromise me?”
And that’s when the reality of the situation settled into place. His understanding came too late, however, because the bedroom door was thrown open.
©2021 Suzanna Medeiros