Page 113 of All I Want for Christmas… Is You
The pineapple mustn’t freeze.
If it did, it wouldn’t bear fruit. If it didn’t bear fruit, Oliver’s gift would be spoiled, and they’d have nothing to show for their trip to Sittingbourne but a dead pineapple. Penelope would be dreadfully disappointed, and everything would be ruined.
Dinah was doing all she could to keep it warm, but the temperature had dropped since they’d left Lord Horace’s estate. She wrapped her hands around the pineapple’s rough sides and hugged it closer, drawing the edge of her cloak around it, but it felt hopeless, as if the best she could do would never be enough to save it.
It was going to freeze, despite her best efforts. Already it felt cold and hard against her fingers, and they were only as far as Abberton. It would be another three hours before they reached Cliff’s Edge. By then the pineapple would be nothing but a prickly block of ice—fit for nothing, and useful to no one.
Foolishness, to imagineshecould take care of something so rare, so precious. She should have refused to let Oliver relinquish it to her. She should have made him understand he couldn’t trust her with it, that she couldn’t keep it safe.
Pineapples were delicate, fragile things. They needed warmth and light and gentle nurturing—all things Dinah couldn’t give. How could she? No one had ever shown her those things, or taught her how to offer them to…to…
To a pineapple.
All that sweet, tender golden flesh, ruined by her ignorance.
A beautiful, loving heart, one filled with laughter and light, broken by her coldness…
Dinah’s vision blurred and she squeezed her eyes closed.
Those hours she’d spent with Oliver in London— all those nights he’d come to the Pandemonium to watch her perform, then waited out in the mews afterwards to take her home. All that time, he’d been looking out for her. He’d been teaching her what it meant to take care of someone, to love them.
All the times he’d made her smile, made her laugh, given her joy…
He’d been showing her how much he loved her, and what had she done for him in return? She’d taken everything he offered in her greedy hands without understanding what it was, or having the vaguest idea how to give it back to him.
How many times had she looked into his eyes and disregarded his love and ignored how much sweeter her life had become since she’d found him, all while telling herselfshewas the one taking care ofhim?
She was in love with him. Perhaps she had been all along, ever since that dark night a year ago when she’d fired a pistol at him and he’d dragged her from her carriage to prevent her from taking another shot.
Oliver believed love could overcome any obstacle, turn coldness into warmth and darkness into light, but Dinah knew better. She’d freeze his warmth, swallow his light. He couldn’t see that yet, but years from now, when Oliver had a family like Alistair Rutherford’s—a family he could be proud of—he’d look back on this mad journey from London to Essex and be grateful it had come to nothing.
Dinah tucked the pineapple into the crook of her elbow and let her mind drift, as it had time and again today, to the delirious kisses she’d shared with Oliver in the greenhouse this morning. The touch of his lips to hers, the gentle, almost reverent glide of his fingertips over her skin, his soft words in her ears…
You’re safe here, Dinah. Safe with me.
She was. She’d always been safe with Oliver.
The trouble was, Oliver wasn’t safe with her.
The puppy whined as she squirmed against the cushion. She cupped one hand around his warm, round belly, her other arm still wrapped around the pineapple. “Hush, now. It’s all right.”
She didn’t intend to fall asleep, but she did, and dreamed of Oliver’s lips against hers, his husky whisper in her ear.
I love you, and I believe you love me, Dinah—
“Dinah!”
The shout penetrated the haze of sleep, and Dinah startled awake. The pup was racing in excited circles at her feet, it’s stubby tail waving madly, having abandoned her lap for a much more amusing pursuit.
“Oh, no.” She’d dropped the pineapple in her sleep, and now it was rolling about on the floor of the coach, with the puppy leaping gamely after it. She reached down and snatched it up, but the spikey green leaves were covered with the puppy’s teeth marks, and it was heavier than it had been, now more ice than fruit.
“Dinah!” The coach door flew open.
Dinah blinked at the light. They were in the circular drive at Cliff’s Edge, and Penelope was peering into the coach, a blinding smile on her face. “How I’ve missed you!”
“Miss Bishop. We’re so glad you decided to join us for Christmas. Lady Archer has hardly been able to contain her excitement.” Lord Archer stepped forward and reached for Dinah’s hand, but before he could take it the puppy darted toward the open door and tumbled onto the drive at Penelope’s feet.
Lord Archer reached down and plucked him up. “Who’s this handsome fellow? Fine pup, Oliver. Where did you get him?”
