Evergreen With Envy: How the Rake Stole Christmas, page 1
EVERGREEN WITH ENVY
EVERGREEN WITH ENVY
HOW THE RAKE STOLE CHRISTMAS
S. CINDERS
CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Epilogue
About the Author
Also by S. CINDERS
How the Rake Stole Christmas
Copyright © 2023 S. CINDERS
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To request permissions, contact the publisher at www.scinders.com
Printed in the United States of America
First Edition: December 2023
Savage Ink Press
Sellersburg, IN
Edited by: Lucy Felthouse
Cover art by: Savage Ink Press
Layout Formatting by: Michelle Martin
This is a work of fiction. The characters, names, incidents, places, and dialogue are either products of the author’s imagination, and are not to be construed as real, or as used factiously.
For my sisters Stacy & Samantha
who truly are my world.
PROLOGUE
Amidst the enchanting streets of 1815 London, bedecked with twinkling lights and vibrant festive decorations, a charming bookstore nestled snugly between two centuries-old buildings. The sign above the entrance bore the elegant inscription "Abbott & Sisters Booksellers," its gold lettering radiant in the soft luminescence cast by the flickering street lamps. It beckoned passersby into the inviting embrace of the shop's warm atmosphere, promising a sanctuary of literary treasures for those daring enough to cross the threshold.
Inside, the air bore the nostalgic fragrance of aged parchment and the aromatic allure of freshly steeped spiced tea. Miss Annabelle Abbott, co-proprietor of the establishment and a burgeoning authoress, stood gracefully behind the polished wooden counter. In the back room, her vivacious younger sister and business partner, Victoria, was engaged in a lively endeavor to organize their inventory. Together, the Abbott sisters had embarked upon an extraordinary venture, transforming their dreams into reality within the cozy walls of their bookstore.
While it might raise more than a few genteel eyebrows for young women of society to embrace such a distinctive enterprise, Annie and Vicky were unflinching in the face of convention. With a heritage as unique as their Indian lineage from their mother's side, the sisters had already encountered their fair share of bigotry from the upper echelons of society. Yet, buoyed by their substantial dowries and the unwavering support of the Duke and Duchess of Blakeney, the Abbott sisters navigated their unconventional path with an air of dignified rebellion, becoming the living embodiment of audacious originality.
Amidst the enchanting seasonal transformation, Annie stood before her domain with a twinkle in her eye, her dark hair adorned with a delicate sprig of holly. The bookstore had undergone a magical metamorphosis, evolving into a festive wonderland. Garlands of evergreen and intricate wreaths adorned the shelves, casting an air of enchantment. In a cozy corner, a miniature Christmas tree twinkled with its own radiant joy, its branches adorned with miniature ornaments and candles that cast a warm, inviting glow.
As the mellifluous sound of the bell above the door rang out, heralding the entrance of a newcomer, Annie looked up from her diligent work. The newcomer was a man, his overcoat dusted with a fine layer of snowflakes—a testament to the crisp winter outside. His entrance was marked by a sense of awe, his eyes irresistibly drawn to the captivating tableau within the store.
"Miss Abbott," the man greeted, his voice a resonant symphony of excitement and reverence, "I have heard of the remarkable sisters who have breathed life into this charming bookstore with its enchanting atmosphere. It is truly an honor to experience its magic firsthand."
Annie's eyes danced with delight, mirroring the twinkle in the festive lights. "The honor is entirely mine, sir. Welcome to Abbott & Sisters Booksellers. How may I be of service to you on this joyous occasion?"
The man—towering and broad-shouldered—paused, a certain hesitation in his demeanor. Annie couldn’t help but notice the way he bore his chestnut hair, slightly longer than the current fashion, its dark strands artfully framing his noble features. He exuded an aura of authority, intermingled with an undeniable charm that hinted at mischief beneath the surface. The sight of his self-deprecating smile sent a gentle flutter through Annie's chest.
‘A man this handsome,’ she mused, ‘certainly carries with him a hint of danger.’
His gaze roamed the cozy corners of the store, curiously exploring its myriad treasures, and Annie seized the opportunity to indulge in her own appraisal. Beneath his strong, angular jawline lay a jaw that exuded strength and determination. His form was a testament to physical prowess, and yet his attire spoke of a sophisticated refinement, unmarred by the affectations of a dandy.
"I have ventured here seeking your guidance, Miss Abbott,” he began, his words infused with an air of anticipation. “After a brief discussion with my dear friend Blakeney, who insisted that you were the one to meet, I stand before you harboring aspirations of becoming a writer. I was hoping that you might share your wisdom with me."
Annie's lips parted in surprise, her voice halted by the unexpected proclamation. “I beg your pardon?”
"My apologies," he continued, his tone lighthearted, "I must clarify. The Duke of Blakeney mentioned your name as a veritable font of literary acumen."
Annie dismissed his mention of the duke with a wave of her hand, her gaze unyielding. "The Duke of Blakeney may be as family to me, though not bound by blood, his presence holds a place in my heart."
A flicker of comprehension crossed the man's countenance. "Indeed, that sentiment was relayed to me."
"However," Annie interjected firmly, "I have yet to be apprised of your identity. Nathan, despite his many endearing qualities, is not known for directing strangers to my humble establishment."
A playful smile graced his lips, mischief twinkling in his eyes. "How would you know that I am a stranger?"
Annie was quick to retort, her wit as sharp as her intelligence. "I possess an impeccable intuition when it comes to detecting enigmatic individuals."
"Ah," he chuckled, the sound rich and resonant, "so I am enigmatic now?"
With a graceful sigh, Annie brushed aside the tendrils of tension that had arisen between them. "I apologize, sir. It was not my intention to brand you as such. I merely find it curious that my esteemed friend would forward an unfamiliar gentleman my way."
The gentleman sported an irreverent grin that seemed to hint at a concealed amusement. "My apologies as well, Miss Abbott. I can assure you that enigma aside, my intentions are sincere."
The merry tinkling of the bell above the door broke the growing rapport, marking the entrance of none other than the Duke of Blakeney himself, accompanied by his radiant wife, Bea. The flurry of snowflakes clung to their cloaks, forming delicate crystalline patterns on their shoulders.
"Annie, my dear," Bea chimed in, her voice a symphony of warmth, "Nathan has brought someone he wishes you to meet. Oh, it appears you've already been acquainted with Lucas."
Nathan extended hearty greetings and handshakes, a jovial camaraderie exuding from him. "Lucas, my friend, you seem to have beaten me to the punch. I trust you have been suitably impressed by the enchantment of the Abbott sisters' haven."
Lucas exchanged pleasantries, affable and charismatic, with the duke. "You give me too much credit, Nathan. I have only just begun to acquaint myself with the manifold marvels of this charming establishment."
Before any further introductions could be made, Lucas turned to Annie and extended a gentlemanly hand, his captivating smile widening. "Ah, yes, Miss Annabelle Abbott. A pleasure to meet you."
Annie found herself mesmerized by the enigmatic gleam in his eyes as his lips met her wrist, a subtle caress that sent a frisson of unexpected desire coursing through her veins. She quickly tamped down the unruly surge of emotions, determined not to let this mysterious man unravel her composure.
Her ensuing words, however, were infused with a gentle note of sarcasm. "As I was about to say before our introduction was so rudely interrupted, I must admit, Viscount Perth, that your timing is remarkably impeccable."
Lucas's lighthearted laughter mingled with the harmonious chords of their banter. "Indeed, I appear to have an uncanny knack for impeccable timing. I daresay, I am delighted to have garnered your attention, Miss Abbott."
Before Annie could offer a retort, her ever-resourceful sister Vicky emerged from the back room, her presence effervescent and her smile as brilliant as the festive decorations. "Pardon my intrusion," she announced cheerfully, "I couldn't help but overhear the mirthful exchange. Welcome to Abbott & Sisters Booksellers, Mr. Collings. I am Victoria Abbott, but you may call me Vicky."
With unbridled enthusiasm, Vicky extended her hand, her warmth and charisma envelo
"I am truly honored to make your acquaintance, Miss Victoria," Lucas replied, his tone infused with admiration. "Your sister has already left an indelible impression upon me."
Vicky's laughter was a musical ripple that danced through the air. "I daresay, my sister is known for her impressions. But fret not, I am here to provide an amicable buffer."
Amusement sparkled in Lucas's eyes as he turned his attention back to Annie. "It would appear, Miss Annabelle, that your sister has preemptively offered her benevolent assistance on my behalf. I must confess, I am in dire need of guidance for my writing aspirations."
Annie's initial skepticism yielded to a begrudging curiosity, a begrudging acknowledgment that perhaps this man was not as enigmatic as she had first believed. As the three engaged in a spirited conversation about literature and the intricacies of the craft, Annie found herself drawn into the captivating symphony of ideas and shared passions.
Bea exchanged a knowing glance with Nathan, her intuition whispering that there was more to this encounter than mere happenstance. As they prepared to take their leave, Bea turned to Annie, her eyes brimming with playful mischief. "Annie, dear, it seems that you and Mr. Collings have embarked upon an auspicious literary journey. A fortuitous partnership, I daresay."
“I didn’t say I would help him,” she whispered frostily. Annie felt a flush of warmth creep into her cheeks, her independent spirit bristling at the notion of being entangled in such a venture. Yet, the tantalizing allure of this enigmatic man and the promise of shared creativity beckoned to her from the realm of possibility.
As Lucas, the man of mystery, offered a parting smile and a promise to reconnect, Annie watched him depart, her thoughts a maelstrom of curiosity and intrigue. The pages of her life had once again been touched by the enchantment of the unexpected, and as the door swung closed behind him, a sense of anticipation lingered in the air.
Within the hallowed haven of Abbott & Sisters Booksellers, the magic of Christmas blended seamlessly with the alchemy of creativity, weaving a tapestry of wonder, camaraderie, and the boundless potential that could be found within the pages of a story yet to be written.
CHAPTER 1
The morning sun filtered through the grand windows of Worthington Hall, casting a warm and inviting glow over the opulent dining room where the family had gathered for breakfast. The long, polished table was elegantly adorned with an array of delectable treats, from freshly baked pastries that exuded a tantalizing aroma to a steaming pot of spiced tea that beckoned with its comforting embrace. Seated at the head of the table were Nathan, the Duke of Blakeney, and his vivacious wife Bea, their glances exchanged with a playful tenderness that spoke of the enduring bond they shared. Beside them sat Vicky, her lively spirit evident in the animated conversation she shared with Elise, who, despite her non-verbal nature, radiated an innocent charm that endeared her to all who knew her.
At the opposite end of the table sat Annie, her dark hair cascading gracefully over her shoulders like a silken waterfall as she delicately perused the morning paper. Despite the serene and picturesque setting, a tempest of apprehension churned within her, threatening to unravel the meticulously crafted tapestry of order she had woven around her life. Annie had always been a staunch advocate of practicality, a firm believer in the merits of structure and logic. The impending arrival of Viscount Perth at Worthington Hall for Christmas was a vexing conundrum that had managed to disrupt the tranquility of her well-ordered world.
Bea's laughter resounded through the air like a melodious chime, gracefully dismantling the fortress of Annie's internal musings. "Oh, Annie dear, it appears as though you're engrossed in that newspaper as if you're unraveling a hidden treasure."
Annie looked up, her features a canvas of innocence. "Merely acquainting myself with the currents of the world, Bea. One can never be too well-informed."
Nathan's laughter was a deep resonance, his eyes sparkling with affection. "Ah, yes, the newspaper—an inexhaustible fount of enlightenment. Annie, my dear, you've always been an explorer of the depths of knowledge."
Vicky's laughter joined the symphony of amusement, her gaze dancing as she turned her attention to Annie. "Or perhaps she's on a quest to uncover the inspiration for her next literary masterpiece. An exposé on the perils of being ensnared in an unexpected holiday arrangement, perchance?"
A fleeting smile tugged at Annie's lips, a glint of playfulness momentarily illuminating her gaze. "Rest assured, Vicky, my literary pursuits are far more captivating than that."
Elise, her large eyes wide with curiosity, tilted her head as though attempting to decipher the enigmatic exchange. Annie bestowed a tender smile upon her elder sister. "I suppose I'll always have a devoted fan in you, darling."
Elise's innocence served as a poignant reminder of the beauty that could be found in embracing the enigmatic and the unknown—a notion that Annie found herself grappling with as she navigated the storm of emotions swirling within her.
As the family savored their sumptuous breakfast, Bea's gaze shifted toward the window, her expression contemplative. "It's a pity that Viscount Perth won't be joining us for breakfast this morn. I must confess, I'm rather curious to glean his impressions of Annie's culinary finesse."
Annie's fork came to an abrupt halt mid-air, a piece of sausage perilously poised. She choked and sputtered, receiving a hearty thump on the back from Nathan. Once she had regained her composure and swallowed the wayward sausage, she turned and leveled a mock glare at Bea.
Bea's lips curved mischievously. “Or perhaps we should unveil Annie's remarkable needlepoint talents."
Annie's narrowed gaze shot daggers at Bea. "You wouldn't dare."
Vicky's laughter danced through the air as she handed another piece of tart to Elise, who accepted it with a delighted hum. "I daresay, if we're enumerating Annie's virtues, we might as well showcase her unparalleled expertise in playing the pinafore."
Nathan, a look of genuine horror on his face, chimed in, "For the love of all things holy, not the pinafore!"
Annie rolled her eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she fought to maintain a facade of stern resolve. "It's truly remarkable how amusing you all find yourselves. But let's not forget that I have a wealth of material to use against each of you."
Vicky shrugged nonchalantly. "Oh, feel free to share my horticultural studies. It may not be riveting, but it's certainly not as mortifying as your alleged culinary misadventures."
Annie couldn't hold back a snort of laughter, the tension that had gripped her beginning to unravel.
"And what about a serenade from our dear Vicky?" Bea teased.
A collective groan erupted, harmonizing perfectly with Annie's own exasperated sigh. "Good heavens, no!"
Amid the shared laughter and good-natured banter, Annie's thoughts drifted to her recent foray into the realm of baking—a venture that was anything but customary for a genteel lady of her station. A genuine curiosity had spurred her desire to master the art of creating delectable confections from mere ingredients, a pursuit that she found both challenging and immensely gratifying.
Cook's assessment of her culinary efforts had been far from flattering, and Annie's gaze flicked downward, avoiding Bea's probing gaze. "Ah, well, I'm certain Viscount Perth possesses his own discerning tastes."
Nathan leaned forward, his eyes alight with mischief. "Oh, come now, Annie, don't be too modest. I'm sure your culinary exploits are far from catastrophic."
Annie's cheeks flushed a delicate hue of rose that belied her discomfiture. "Actually, Nathan, I fear 'catastrophic' may be a rather generous description. Cook has lamented that I've proven to be quite the challenge."
