Ramblings From This Chick: A Historical Christmas Event with Anna Campbell

Wednesday, December 12, 2018

A Historical Christmas Event with Anna Campbell

I’m an Aussie historical romance writer. So far I've published 10 full-length novels for Avon and Grand Central and 22 books under my own steam. My books have also been translated into 20 languages. I'm currently working on a series featuring roguish Highland heroes, called the Lairds Most Likely. The Laird's Willful Lass and The Laird's Christmas Kiss are now out. Look out for The Laird's Lost Lady and The Laird's English Bride in 2019! I live by the sea in Australia and I love to hear from readers.

All year, I look forward to visiting Ramblings from this Chick for Dani’s Christmas extravaganza. Apart from being a fabulous way to spread the Holiday cheer, it’s a great forum for trying out ideas for new stories. This year the idea came to me (and so far there’s not much more than the beginning) of a masked ball on Christmas Eve, a mysterious stranger, and a kiss that promises a LOT more to come! So welcome to the romantic world of an Anna Campbell Christmas story:

Berkeley Square, London, Christmas Eve, 1819

Matthew slid down from the top of the high brick wall and slipped into the shadows of the camellia hedge. From the ballroom at the other end of the garden, lilting music played. The sound was muffled because on such a cold night, the French doors were closed instead of open onto the terrace as they would be for a summer party. Light from the tall house made a pattern of squares across the dark grass of the garden.

Inside, London’s great and good whirled around the dance floor at Lady Winterson’s famous Christmas Eve ball. He hoped soon to be whirling with them himself, although nobody in their right mind would describe him as either great or good.

Desperate, more likely.

He shrugged his heavy cloak from his shoulders, shook his hands to loosen his lace cuffs, and straightened his black coat and silver brocade waistcoat. One final touch. He drew a flimsy black silk mask from his pocket and tied it over his eyes. Then silent as a jaguar on the hunt, he prowled through the empty garden and up onto the terrace. It was easy enough to open a side door a crack and sneak through to join the glittering throng.

Once inside, he paused to survey the scene. He’d bribed the chit’s maid to tell him what she was wearing so even if she was masked, he was sure to recognize her. His eyes roamed avidly across the crowded room. He was so close to what he wanted, he could taste it.

In the confined space, the noise was deafening, and the heat of close-packed bodies made sweat prickle against his high starched collar. In accordance with the festive season, the room was decorated with branches of greenery and sprigs of mistletoe hung from red satin ribbons.

Most of the guests were in costume. His gaze glided over half a dozen Henry VIIIs, a couple of unconvincing middle-aged fairies, two Marie Antoinettes, and a Robin Hood. Like him, a few gentlemen wore standard evening dress, although even they got into the spirit of things enough to sport a mask.

Matthew didn’t stand out at all. He hadn’t meant to.

Disappointment flooded him as his gaze raked the room. He couldn’t spot his quarry. He hadn’t counted on the event being so crowded, although of course he should have. Lady Winterson’s ball was a fixture of the winter season, and every lady with any pretension to social success vied for an invitation.

Had the girl changed her mind at the last minute about attending? After all, a masked ball was a little outré for a debutante.

Still no sign of her. Had he come so near to setting his plan into motion only to fail at the last minute? He could barely endure the thought. His jaw set and his gloved hands clenched at his sides, even as he told himself that he’d try again. He had to.

Then he caught a glimpse of a drift of a cream skirt scattered with embroidered flowers, and his heart kicked into a gallop of wicked anticipation. His nostrils flared and his skin tingled with excitement. The heiress was indeed here.

Unobtrusively he wound his way through the crowd. He could only see her from the back. She was tall and willowy, and her pale blond hair was caught up in a loose knot garlanded with hothouse flowers. He intended to catch her alone—or alone as she could be in this hubbub. He’d wait all night for his chance if he had to.

He didn’t have to. The couple she was talking to wandered away and she turned. He found himself before a girl dressed as Flora from Botticelli’s famous Primavera. A lacy mask barely covered her eyes, giving him a view of a delicate, pointed face with a straight, slender nose and a mouth of surprising lushness.

He stared at her, surprised at how pretty she was in real life compared to the miniature he carried. Revenge, long delayed and finally in progress, tasted sweet on his tongue. His heart gave a mighty thump of triumph. At last!

The girl might be a mere pawn in his scheme, but in the game of life, a skilled player could use a pawn to bring down the king.

***

Felicity’s heart took a delicious skip as a tall, elegant gentleman sauntered toward her with one white-gloved hand extended. A masked ball felt so deliciously naughty. She was surprised Lord Skillings, her guardian, had given her permission to attend, although Lady Winterton was good ton and invitations to her Christmas Eve party were avidly sought.

So far she’d only danced with men she knew, but even that was exciting when masks added a touch of mystery. And now, she was positive she’d never met this man who approached her with an air of unmistakable purpose. A tall gentleman with ruffled black hair and a square jaw beneath a long, thin mouth. That mouth curved up in a slow smile as she stretched out her hand to take his. Even through their gloves, she felt a strange frisson at the contact.

“May I have this dance?” As he bowed over her hand, his voice was so deep, it vibrated in her bones.

She smiled back. “Have we been introduced, sir?”

“Ah, that’s the magic of a masked ball, my lady. You won’t know until midnight.” A waltz started to play. “Shall we?”

“With pleasure.”

The stranger’s hand curved around her waist and he swept her out onto the crowded dance floor. So crowded, she stepped closer into the shelter of his body in a way that in a more conventional gathering would garner her a lecture from her guardian.

“Are you enjoying the ball, sir?” she asked, looking up at the man and trying to discern what he’d look like without the mask. He stared down at her with intent, dark eyes although it was impossible to tell the exact color.

“I am now,” he murmured and performed a breathtaking turn that set her heart racing.

“You’re a flatterer.”

“Not at all, Lady Felicity.”

Disappointed pricked her. “You know who I am.”

“I do. Your hair is unmistakable. Moonlight and gold.”

She felt her eyes round with astonishment and was grateful her own mask hid her reaction to the compliment. “That’s very poetic.”

“Isn’t it just?”

She realized they were on the edge of the dancers now, beside one of the French doors. A delicate lady would be shocked when her partner opened the door and still waltzing with her, drifted outside into the cold. But something about this man left her unsurprised when she found herself alone on the terrace with him.

“I can’t stay, my lady,” he said softly, edging her back into the shadows between the glass doors.

“Oh,” she said and heard more disappointment in the small syllable.

His laugh was a soft rumble in the darkness. “But I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She frowned up toward him. “You will?”

“Oh, yes.”

“What’s your name?”

“Let’s allow that little mystery to linger a little longer, shall we? But in the meantime…”

Felicity knew he was going to kiss her. Dear heaven. She should say something to stop him. She’d promised her guardian that if he let her attend this ball, she’d remember decorum and be a credit to Lady Pownall who chaperoned her.

Instead, she stayed silent and tilted her chin up toward him. In the darkness, she caught the glint of white teeth as he smiled down at her. Then she closed her eyes as his lips brushed across hers.

Her first kiss. Brief. But sweet, so sweet. A wave of pleasurable impressions overwhelmed her. His lean height. The warmth of his body in the cold air. The clean, sandalwood scent of his skin. The hard grip of his hands around her waist, different, more possessive than the way he’d held her when they danced.

His lips remained light on hers, yet a surge of powerful heat flooded her. With a muffled whimper she stepped closer. Then another whimper escaped her, of shock this time, as the tip of his tongue fluttered against her lips. It was as if he tasted her.

He raised his head and she wondered if he could hear the thunder of her heart. “A nice beginning, sweetheart. Until tomorrow.”

“But…” she said, reaching out to catch his arm and bring him back, but he’d already stepped out of reach.

He bowed briefly and turned to run lightly down the steps into the dark garden. Within seconds, he’d disappeared into the shadows while Felicity remained alone on the terrace, trembling with reaction – and a forbidden desire for more.

Six breathtakingly romantic Christmas treats from Anna Campbell, together in one collection at last – and all at a bargain price!

The Winter Wife: Will an unexpected meeting on Christmas Eve deliver a second chance at love?

Her Christmas Earl: To save her sister from scandal, Philippa Sanders ventures into a rake’s bedroom – and into his power. Now only a hurried Christmas marriage can rescue her reputation.

A Pirate for Christmas: What is vicar’s daughter Bess Farrar to do when the dashing new earl, the man gossip paints as a ruthless pirate, kisses her on their first meeting? Why, kiss him right back of course!

Mistletoe and the Major: After years of war, Major Lord Canforth returns to England a hero. Now he faces his greatest battle—to win the heart of the wife he hasn’t seen since their wedding.

A Match Made in Mistletoe: Serena Talbot makes a wish on the mistletoe—but the mistletoe gets it wrong! A Christmas of chaos and confusion lies ahead. Will mistletoe magic lead to a happy ending?

The Christmas Stranger: At Christmastime, a stranger crossing the threshold means good fortune. But is Josiah Hale’s arrival lucky for Maggie, the girl Christmas forgot?

Purchase: | Amazon | B&N | Apple | Kobo |