Free Tempting Mr. Weatherstone: A Wallflower Wedding Novella (Originally Appeared in the E-Book Anthology FIVE GOLDEN RINGS) by Vivienne Lorret

Ethan said, as he fished through the boughs to the small, square package. This year, she’d chosen to wrap his gift in a scrap of linen she’d purposely stained with tea in an effort to match the color of his eyes.
    He resumed his place on the armchair, poised at the very edge as he unwrapped the package, as if he didn’t already know what was inside. When he saw the handkerchiefs, a smile broke over his face. “Pen, you have no idea how much I look forward to these each year, to admire your fine stitching and the designs you loop off the letters. I see the tiniest of gray moths on the tail of the E. Yes, I do believe these are the finest yet.”
    Every year it was usually the same thing. First the handkerchiefs, then the nod of acknowledgment. However, this year, of all years, he chose to flatter her needlework. This year, of all years . . . and when she needed the sameness in order to keep herself sane.
    His pretty words were too much. Her emotions, already like a cup full of Christmas punch, were threatening at each moment to spill out. She didn’t want his compliment. She’d wanted to take one last nod from him with her. One final nod to bury in her wounded heart.
    “I—” she stopped, her voice cracking. She had every intention of telling him how glad she was that he liked them. But when she tried again, nothing came out. Instead, a sudden rush of tears flowed from her eyes. All she could think of was how this was going to be the very last Christmas with him.
    Unable to bear it any longer, she fled the room, rushing to the safety of the dark study.
    Standing beside his desk, she wiped away the tears with her fingertips, and when those became too damp, she used the heels of her hands. She tried to compose herself. After all, she only had to wait a short while longer, and she could thoroughly give in to her misery, and no one would be the wiser.
    “You left without your present, Pen,” Ethan said from behind her, his voice low.
    She sniffed and discreetly wiped her wet hands over her knitted shawl. “Present? But you already gave me your present.” He’d settled her account for needlework supplies. For the very last time. The thought caused her next breath to come in ragged.
    “Yes, but this year, I have one more gift for you.” He remained behind her, and something in the controlled manner of his tone made her realize that stepping away from the routine must be very difficult for him.
    She blinked her eyes, keeping her face averted as she tried to make it appear she hadn’t been crying. “You didn’t have to. I enjoy our standing tradition.”
    He was quiet for a moment. So quiet, she wasn’t sure if she’d offended him. But just as she was about to apologize, he spoke. “When I saw it, I knew it was made solely for you, no matter what story the jeweler told.”
    The jeweler? And then suddenly she understood. He’d gotten her a gift—no, more of a memento—from their small morning adventure. She turned, expecting to see the odd jade tortoise in his hand or even the hideous bird, a joke shared between them.
    However, when she saw what he was actually holding, the carefully crafted smile she wore died on her lips. Tears threatened again. In fact, they were probably spilling down her cheeks, only she was too shocked to notice.
    It was the ring.
    Even in the dimness of the room, the dark sapphires glinted with a fascinating light that held her stare.
    “I love you, Pen,” Ethan said simply, as if he’d said it a million times, and she’d heard him utter the words for years upon years.
    She blinked, staring at him, wondering if she’d gone mad and was imagining all of this.
    It wasn’t possible. In their world of routine and sameness, nothing like this was possible.
    “Everything is chaos without you. You, who can never be still for a single moment. You, who constantly challenges my sanity. You, with your wry wit and the way that you know me better than I know myself. You”— he took a breath