Free The Christmas Knot by Barbara Monajem

how to manipulate him, but she’d hated the need to do so.
    Perhaps that was why Richard’s plan to deceive John, even if necessary, bothered her so much. He cared for his children and his dependents, and yet here was proof that he wasn’t completely honest. She already knew that, so why did she want to trust him? She should have more sense.
    She set melancholy thoughts aside and found some music for a country dance, while John perused a book about mathematics. She was trying hard not to show her anxiety for him and thankful that playing the music would occupy her mind.
    Richard patiently took his daughter through the steps of two country dances, over and over again—although he pretended not to know what he was doing and let her do most of the leading. “It would be better with four people, of course,” Lizzie said, out of breath at the end. “But John refuses to dance, and someone must play for us. Do you waltz, Mrs. White?”
    The sudden change of subject caught Edwina off guard. “I have done so, but not lately.”
    “Dance with Mrs. White, Papa, and I shall play for you,” Lizzie said. “Waltzes are easy to play.”
    “I don’t think…” Edwina began.
    Richard raised a sardonic brow, making her want to hit him. “Surely you haven’t forgotten how?”
    No, and she hadn’t forgotten what had happened next, either.
    “Please, Mrs. White! I love watching people waltz.” Lizzie ran over to the pianoforte and rummaged through the sheets of music. “My grandmother and grandfather held a ball in America, and John and I peeked at all the people through the balusters. Papa and Mama waltzed together, twirling and whirling around the room. That was before Mama grew ill and died.” She paused, a stricken look on her face. Was she thinking of her dead mother or the prospect of losing her brother?
    Her lower lip trembled, but she took a deep breath and chose a sheet of music. “Oh, here’s the one I know best.” She sat on the bench, practically forcing Edwina out of the way.
    After that extraordinary display of fortitude in one so much younger, what could Edwina do but comply?
    Richard put out his hand. “Come, let us twirl and whirl.”
    Doubly uncomfortable now, Edwina took his hand. She wasn’t a replacement for his wife, nor did she wish to recreate in the slightest way her own brief experience as his lover years before, yet she couldn’t bear to disappoint Lizzie. Her ungloved hand felt hot and heavy in Richard’s while Lizzie got herself settled and pounded the first few chords. Then he took her by the waist and they were off.
    ~ * ~
    Why bother fighting it? Richard didn’t trust her, and she was too prickly to deal with, too bitter about something he didn’t understand, but he wanted her anyway. Wanted her to burn for him now the way she had burned so many years ago.
    That she didn’t feel the same way was entirely clear. She followed his lead, but with stiffness in her posture and a lag in her step. She gazed sternly over his shoulder, refusing to meet his eyes.
    “You used to dance better than this,” he said.
    That brought her head around, but only to glare at him and turn away again, nose in the air.
    “I thought we were to let bygones be bygones,” he said.
    “That was your idea, not mine,” she muttered, “and it is impossible when you force me to waltz with you.”
    That annoyed him enough that he whispered, “You needn’t worry, Edwina. There is no terrace to sweep you away to. There are no nearby bushes to hide in or a wall to—”
    “How dare you!” she hissed, but she was trapped, and her furious face and flaming cheeks said she knew it. She would look a fool if she broke from his arms and ran away. Not only that, she would upset the children—something he knew without a doubt that she would do her utmost to avoid. How odd; in some ways he did trust her after all.
    “Sorry, my dear, but I can’t help but have fond memories of that night.” He gazed down at her averted