Ramblings From This Chick: A Historical Christmas Event with Shana Galen

Friday, December 14, 2018

A Historical Christmas Event with Shana Galen

Shana Galen is a three-time Rita award nominee and the bestselling author of passionate Regency romps, including the RT Reviewers' Choice The Making of a Gentleman. Kirkus says of her books, "The road to happily-ever-after is intense, conflicted, suspenseful and fun," and RT Bookreviews calls her books “lighthearted yet poignant, humorous yet touching." She taught English at the middle and high school level off and on for eleven years. Most of those years were spent working in Houston's inner city. Now she writes full time. She's happily married and has a daughter who is most definitely a romance heroine in the making.

During this event two years ago, I started a story featuring guests at an English country house party snowed in at Christmastime. Shy, widowed Anabelle isn’t distressed to be snowed in. The man she has always had a crush on, Viscount Redmond, is also at the house party. I called the story “Hope for Christmas” because in the scene, the viscount took notice of Anabelle, giving her hope she’d finally caught his eye.

You can read that scene here

Last year, the story picked up later that day at a ball where Colin Parrish, Viscount Redmond, asks Anabelle to dance. She agrees, and they pause under the mistletoe. I called it “A Ball at Christmas.”

You can read that scene here

This year the lovely ball takes an unpleasant turn, and Anabelle receives a cryptic message. Keep reading for “Mulled Wine Kisses.”

Mulled Wine Kisses

Anabelle couldn’t breathe as Viscount Redmond—no, Colin now; he’d asked her to call him Colin—pulled her into his arms. She was dimly aware of the string quartet playing, the movement of couples twirling about in her periphery, the scent of evergreens, and that sprig of mistletoe hanging above them.

And then she knew nothing but the feel of Colin’s arms. They were strong and firm. She felt safe in them, as she’d always known she would. She felt like she’d been waiting for this moment since she’d been six years old—though her expectations now were a bit different than they had been at six.

He bent and brushed his lips over hers, and the eyes she had closed opened in surprise. Warmth radiated from her lips, making her whole body aware of the contact. Her skin tingled and flushed, and she had the urge to pull him close, to kiss him more passionately.

But before she might act on impulse and behave in a way unbecoming to a young lady, his hand tightened on her back. She thought he might grasp her firmly and kiss her in the way she longed he would—his lips slanting over hers until she was dizzy with desire.

Instead, he stepped back, looking down at her with a mixture of shock and…anger?

“I’m sorry,” he said, stepping back again. “It was meant to be a kiss between friends.”

She blinked at him in confusion. “You have nothing to apologize for.” The kiss had been chaste. Far more chaste than she had wanted.

“Your servant, Mrs. Farthing.” He took her hand, bent to kiss it, and then moved away. Anabelle was left alone under the mistletoe, her cheeks burning with shame.

It had been a mistake to get her hopes up. Why had she listened to Eva? Why had she allowed her to play matchmaker and solicit Colin to dance the first dance with her? It was obvious he was just being kind. He didn’t want her. She would always be his friend’s little sister. Nothing more.

A footman passed with a tray of champagne, and she snatched a glass and drank it down, moving out from under the mistletoe. As she made her way to the corner of the room, she grasped another glass of champagne while she stood against the wall, decorating the walls as she had when she’d been younger.

She’d forgotten those awful nights as a wallflower. At balls she had prayed a man would ask her to dance and then prayed one wouldn’t. She could never think of anything witty or entertaining to say when she danced, and awkward silence was the hallmark of any set she accepted.

In those days she’d had a chaperone who had limited her to one glass of champagne a night. She was a widow with no chaperone now. She could drink as much as she liked. The champagne made her forget her embarrassment, made it easier to watch Colin dancing with one woman and then another as the night wore on.

“There you are!”

Anabelle looked up and into Eva’s concerned eyes. “Here I am,” she said, giggling a bit at the way her words sort of slurred together.

“I have been looking for you for the past half hour. What are you doing all the way over here?”

Anabelle looked around. She was sitting beside a heavy velvet drapery, almost obscured by it, in fact. “I’m decorating the walls,” she said. It sounded rather amusing when she said it aloud, and she giggled again.

“You are foxed!” her friend said in surprise. “How much have you drunk?”

“I don’t know.” Anabelle looked at the little collection of champagne glasses she’d gathered about her. “One, two, four. Wait, that’s not right.”

Eva took her arm. “Never mind that. You had better go to bed before anyone sees you.” This was her house party, and she took her duties as hostess seriously. “I’ll walk you to your room.”

“You shouldn’t leave the ball.”

Eva dragged her out of the ballroom and into the foyer where the grand staircase ascended toward the upper floors. “What happened?” Eva asked at the base of the stairs. “I saw you dancing with Redmond. Did he say something that upset you?”

Redmond—Colin. The pain lanced through her fresh as the first time. Where was her champagne? “Nothing like that,” she said, tears stinging her eyes. She did not want to cry. The last thing she need tonight was more pity.

“Then what is wrong?”

“I—He—” How to explain? How to make Eva, the beautiful, wealthy and happily married Lady Dorsey understand what it was to be plain, shy, widowed Mrs. Farthing. Eva loved her and wanted everyone else to love her as well. But if Colin was kind to her and danced with her, it was only because he was polite or felt some loyalty to his friend and her older brother.

“My lady.” The housekeeper bustled out from the servants’ door near the stairs. “There’s a problem with the tart. Cook says it’s come out dry.”

Eva’s hands went to her cheeks. “Oh, no.”

“Cook has some a sauce she might add, but she wanted you to taste it first.”

“Of course. I’ll speak with her at once. There must be some way to salvage the supper.” She started away and then seemed to remember Anabelle. She turned back. “Oh, but Anabelle. Can you wait just a moment, dear? I’ll be right back.”

Anabelle forced herself to smile and nod. “I think I’ll go lie down. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

“Yes. I’ll come to you first thing in the morning. I’ll have Cook send up some tea.”

Anabelle watched her hurry away, knowing Cook would be far too busy to send tea to an inebriated guest.

She turned and started up the stairs, but on the third or fourth stair, she must have forgotten to lift her skirts because she stumbled and only prevented a fall by catching the railing and holding it tightly.

“Do you need some help, Mrs. Farthing?”

She looked down and Lord Haggerston was coming toward the stairs. He was a man of fifty or so with a bushy mustache and a permanently red nose. He held a flask, and she wondered if he had stepped out of the ball to drink from its contents.

“Thank you, my lord, but I am fine.”

“Going to bed so soon?” he asked, ignoring her words and starting up the stairs behind her. Anabelle lifted her skirt and continued upward.

“I’m tired.”

“Is that what they call it these days?” He was right behind her, and she jumped when she felt his fingers pinch her bottom.

“My lord!” She jumped and whirled around.

“Sorry!” He held up his hands. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

“My lord, I think you should return to the ball.”

“I need to fetch something from my chambers. Lady Haggerston sent me. I can’t return empty handed, you know?”

Anabelle narrowed her eyes at him.

“I won’t pinch you again, Mrs. Farthing. In fact, I’ll go first, if you like.” And he passed her on the stairs, disappearing toward his room at the top. Anabelle waited a few moments, until the earth stopped spinning, and then resumed climbing. She was almost to her room. She’d strip off this tight dress, take her hair down, and have a good cry. Colin Parrish didn’t want her. Now she knew for certain, and she could stop pining for him. When the snow cleared, she would go to her sister’s house. She would play the amusing aunt for her two little nephews and try and enjoy the rest of the holiday.

At the top of the stairs, she turned toward her room, but she made it no more than three or four steps before rough hands grabbed her about the waist and pushed her up against the wall.

“What—” But Haggerston’s mouth on hers cut off her cries. His thick tongue plunged between her lips and his meaty hands groped at her bodice. She stomped on his foot and tried to push him back, but her ball slippers were meager defense. Wrenching her head to the side, she gulped in air. “Get off me. Stop!”

“Oh, don’t play coy with me. I saw you looking at me all through dinner.”

“No!” But he put his hand over her mouth and began fumbling under her skirts. She tried to wriggle away, but up seemed down and down seemed up. She was dizzy and confused, and he was so much bigger than she. His hand closed painfully on her thigh, and she screamed. With his hand over her mouth, she knew no one would hear.

***

Colin’s feet hurt. He’d been dancing for the last hour. He’d been afraid to stop moving. If he took two minutes for himself, he’d remember the smell of her, the feel of her in his arms, the taste of her. It had been a very meagre taste, not nearly enough.

What was wrong with him? She was Edward’s little sister. He’d thought a peck on the lips harmless at Christmas time, but when his lips had brushed hers, he’d felt a powerful longing to pull her close and kiss her—really kiss her. She looked so beautiful tonight. She didn’t look at all like the little girl he remembered. And she’d been easy to talk to, easy to dance with. How could he have known the kiss would be like a punch in the gut?

His feet still hurt, and the ball had only really begun. He shouldn’t have worn these new pumps. He’d go upstairs and change. Even if his old pumps were a bit worn, at least he’d be comfortable.

He started up the stairs, but halfway up he paused at the sound of a scuffle. Was it a scuffle or two lovers whose rendezvous he’d interrupted? He almost turned around to go back downstairs, and then he heard what sound like a No.

Colin took the stairs two at a time. At the landing, he looked one way then the other. There was Anabelle and that arse Haggerston with his hands all over her. Colin didn’t stop to think that perhaps she’d wanted Haggerston’s advances, he charged forward, grasping Haggerston’s coat and pulling him off her. He slammed the man against the opposite wall then looked over his shoulder to see Anabelle’s tear-stained face.

“Are you hurt? Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. I told him to stop, but he-he didn’t listen.”

Colin looked back at Haggerston, who had his hands raised. “Just a misunderstanding, old boy. I thought she wanted a bit of company.”

Colin leaned close to Haggerston. “Touch her again, and I’ll give you a misunderstanding you’ll never put right.” He pulled Haggerston off the wall and shoved him hard down the hallway. Haggerston stumbled, fell, then got to his feet. When he looked back at them, hate burned in his eyes.

“You can act all high and mighty now.” He pointed at Anabelle. “But we’ll see how you feel when the world finds out what I know.”

Colin looked at Anabelle, but she looked as lost as he. She wiped tears from her cheeks.

“What are you going on about?” Colin asked, moving in front of her, to shield her from Haggerston.

Haggerston smiled, a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Just that Farthing wasn’t quite the saint he appeared.” With that, he stumbled away.

Colin turned back to Anabelle. “Let me help you to your room.”

But she was staring after Haggerston. “What did he say? What does that mean? James—he didn’t even know Lord Haggerston.”

Colin shook his head. He hadn’t known her late husband at all, but then it appeared there was a chance Anabelle hadn’t known him as well as she thought either.

To be continued next year!

This masked lord...

Lord Jasper, younger son of a marquess, suffered horrible burns fighting in the Napoleonic Wars. He wears a mask to hide his face from the stares and screams and finds comfort in the shadows. Jasper is an exceptional bounty hunter, so when a woman summons him to her deathbed and asks him to find her runaway daughter before she passes away, he doesn't refuse. Jasper is close to his quarry when he's knifed by an assailant. Imagine his surprise when he regains consciousness in the arms of the woman he seeks. Except she's not at all what he expected.

Is not the only one with scars.

On a remote cliff on the sea, Olivia Carlisle calls her five-year-old son in from an approaching storm. But the little boy is more interested in the man he's found on the trail to their hidden cottage. Olivia fears men and wants nothing more than to leave the injured man where she found him. But his knife wound is severe, and with the approaching storm, she knows leaving him will condemn him to death. As Jasper begins to heal, Olivia acknowledges her attraction to him, even though such emotions terrify her almost as much as returning to London. Jasper must convince her that her only chance at safety is to challenge the man who pursues her. They must travel into the lion's den—he to face his vulnerability and she to face her worst fears.

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