Disclaimer: You're silly if you think I own anything! (I am the proud owner of a new iPad, a few gift cards and a boatload of candy. Thanks, Santa! :D)

Author's Note: Okay, so since y'all liked it so much, I just had to continue! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter.

Special thanks to my anonymous reviewers, PandoraHart and bcc! Y'all are so sweet. Thanks for reading and reviewing!

I've worked on this for the past few days, but I wanted to get it up by tonight as a special Christmas present for my loyal readers.

Merry Christmas! And enjooy! C:

...

"Hi, daddy," Blossom smiled weakly as she stepped into her father's study.

The Duke of Cambridge, her father, had just called on her a few minutes earlier. Normally Blossom would be ecstatic about seeing her beloved father, but recent events had tempered her enthusiasm. After reading the Duke of York's letter and carefully considering his offer over breakfast, she decided that she needed some time. She couldn't make such a life-altering decision in a split second!

She carefully weighed her options, trying to look at every aspect of the issue. First and foremost, it was incredibly noble of the Duke to offer his hand in marriage. He was under no obligation to marry Blossom, as the scandal certainly would not hit him as hard, but he still gracefully proposed. As graceful as a few sentences in ink can be, Blossom thought sullenly.

From his reasoning, she deduced he was incredibly clever. He had suggested that the two pretend they've known each other forever and were madly in love to make the ton believe the incident at Lumpkin's wasn't scandalous, but rather an excited response to an engagement. If they could fool the court into believing that the rumor was simply misunderstood, the scandal would quickly blow over and the new couple would be a hit.

From his rather austere words, however, she couldn't sense the charisma and charm he was devilishly famous for throughout London. How can he be charming when he's being forced into marriage with me? she reasoned despairingly.

From his title, Blossom knew it would be an advantageous marriage and that her future children would be heirs to a dukedom, like she and her two sisters were. They would be taken care of, for sure; and even if rumors surrounding the infamous duke's financial state were true, Blossom's exorbitant dowry would ensure financial safety.

And then a pang hit her. She had quickly resigned to never having a love marriage and that pain was starting to dull, but a fresh wound immediately opened as she mulled over her options. She couldn't understand why the duke was finally willing to settle down, and to a stranger no less, when an awful feeling washed over her.

Blossom was rich. The Duke of York was most likely not. He would make an unimaginably large sum of money by standing in a church and exchanging questionably veracious vows with her. By marrying her, his financial woes would disappear in a single, fell swoop. He wasn't being a gentleman and he didn't want her for being Blossom; he wanted her for her money.

But in such times, how could she expect any less? Everyone married for money or power; why should their case be any different? He would marry her for her riches and she would marry him for power- to reign over a dukedom and salvage her precious reputation. Blossom sighed bitterly. This certainly isn't what she had envisioned for herself, even in her worst nightmares.

"Blossom, dear?" a soft voice prodded gently, tearing the redhead from her reverie.

"Oh, sorry, daddy," Blossom said demurely as she lowered her coral eyes and sat across from her father. "What did you need?" she asked quietly, looking up at him expectantly.

Duke John Utonium swallowed, noticing the drastic change in his eldest daughter. Her characteristic confidence and pride had been replaced with a reserved, reticent manner that made him cringe. It pained him to see his strong Blossom in such a state.

"How are you holding up?" he asked gingerly, watching her with tenderness.

"I've been better," she let out a small smile, trying to be strong for her father. She knew how much he loved her.

"Okay," he said softly. Taking in a deep breath, "I received a letter earlier this morning from the Duke of York... I trust you have as well?"

Blossom simply nodded, letting her pink irises fall downcast.

"Have you at least considered his offer?" the duke asked tenderly. "Perhaps we could at least give the man a chance," he suggested.

Blossom looked up, a flame of her characteristic confidence piercing her gaze, "Father, you can't think me foolish enough to turn down the duke's kind offer. I know it won't be the marriage I always dreamed of, but I know it's the best I'll get and I cannot say no," she stated resolutely. She gave her father a warm smile to let him know she had come to terms with her decision.

"Blossom, you know you don't have to wed him. You're welcome to stay in Cambridge as long as you'd like." His eyes were wide and they told her that he didn't want her to feel forced into the marriage.

She couldn't suppress a warm smile at her father, "I know. And... I want this. I don't know the duke very well, but I think this will be for the best." Her words were more to convince her than her father.

"I just want you to be happy, Blossom," Duke John murmured, letting a smile fall on his lips. "Brick is a good man and don't let anyone tell you otherwise."

"Brick?" Blossom murmured, hearing her betrothed's name for the first time. She swallowed and looked up at her father, trying to maintain her composure. She couldn't let him down. "Thank you, father," she said formally.

"I will write to him and we will decide on a time to meet this evening to sort out the marriage details, then," her father's somber tone meant that Blossom wouldn't be invited to their talk. "Your sisters will take you shopping for your bridal trousseau." His tone softened as he gazed at her once more, "And Blossom, dear. I love you."

"I love you too, daddy," the redhead took a final bow before excusing herself to find her sisters.

As Blossom stepped out of the study and gazed out the adjacent window to see the town, dread filled her. She knew nothing about her future husband- how would he react to her evening escapades? Surely he would cry off if he learned Blossom was a wholly improper spy for the crown. The redhead bit her lip as she held back tears. Investigating had become such a large part of her life now and she couldn't imagine giving it up. What if she never uncovered another French secret? What if she never stepped into another seedy tavern? What if she never saw the handsome red-eyed stranger again?

As feelings she had tried to suppress all morning returned, she began to wonder if accepting York's proposal was a good idea. Taking in a deep breath, she tried to mollify herself. Of course it was, Blossom chided herself. She should forget about the virile stranger already and focus her thoughts on her future life. A life where she would be forced to give spying up soon. Unless...

Her luscious lips curled into a smirk as she discovered a solution to her dilemma. She would allow the Duke of York, Brick, many conjugal freedoms, but restricting hers would not be one of them.

...

"Congratulations, York. Never thought I would actually see the day you settle down," the brunet grinned arrogantly at Brick, but his wishes were sincere. He plopped down in the comfortable chair across from his boss and looked at him expectantly.

"Thanks, Mitchelson," the virile redhead responded sardonically. His brothers had been busy all morning, spreading news of his impending marriage to Lady Cambridge and from all the wishes he had gotten so far, they appeared to do the job well.

He had just received word from the lady's father, the Duke, that he was to meet the family and discuss particulars later in the evening. As if managing his estate and running the Foreign Embassy weren't enough work, Brick would soon be responsible for a young chit he had little interest in. He didn't know much about her, but from what he had gathered, she didn't seem like his type of lady. He stifled a groan in anticipation. If she was like any of the other vapid ladies eagerly chasing after him, perhaps asking for her hand had been a mistake.

As memories from late last night resurfaced, Brick became almost sure it was a mistake. Part of his job protecting British interests involved him visiting known French hubs within in the city and while it never was much trouble, he had started to notice a few unpleasant patterns. There was one patron who made regular, surreptitious visits to a tavern in Cambridge and from his manner, Brick was immediately suspicious. Imagine his surprise when he cornered the visitor and interrogated him, only to discover that he was really a she and indeed the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on! He allowed his virility to get the best of him and instead of gathering information, he had kissed her and allowed her a free escape.

He couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss with the shady noblewoman, but he didn't want to believe that she could be a French spy. He hated that possibility and hated the fact that he would probably never see her again even more. He knew it would be best if he forgot her and married the silly Cambridge chit so he could restore York and refocus his energies into gathering French information for the British crown.

"Are you quite alright?" Lord Mitch Mitchelson looked at his superior curiously.

"Quite," Brick said grimly, leaving his thoughts. Returning his attention to the earl, he added, "I'm sorry, what were you saying?"

"Just how lucky you are," he grinned. "Lady Cambridge's beauty is legendary and I hear she's worth quite a pretty pence."

Brick snorted, he knew of her riches, but hearing of her beauty assuaged him. If he had to deal with her, at least she'd be attractive. "Absolutely," he replied smoothly to Mitch's statement.

"Does she know about your work here at the Foreign Embassy?" Mitch prodded, curious whether his boss had shared his surreptitious line of work with his future wife.

Brick frowned. He didn't want to hide his job from the chit, but at the same time, he didn't want to put her in danger. Brick hadn't told Blossom about his side job and he wasn't sure when, or even if, he would. The redhead was about to reply to Mitch when the brunet spoke again.

"Oh, I forgot to give you this," he said casually as he pulled out a sealed letter from his pocket. "It's from Lady B."

As Brick took the letter in his hands, he couldn't help but grin. This woman was one of the most helpful aids in the British war against France. She knew the most perfect bits of information and had saved the embassy on more than a few occasions. Unfortunately, no one was privy to her identity; if Brick knew who she really was, he wouldn't hesitate to compensate her for invaluable help.

The redhead tore the seal and his crimson irises widened as they absorbed the words on the parchment. He frowned as he neared the end and when he slammed the document on his desk, he glowered.

"Lady B has alerted us of a most terrible situation," Brick said grimly. "It appears we have a traitor in our midst."

...

The day had gone by quickly and before Blossom knew it, it was evening. The previous day she had expressed her assent to York's proposal and her father had met with the man that afternoon. Blossom missed him only by a few minutes; she and her sisters had returned from their day at the boutiques only moments after he had taken his leave. Unfortunately, the duke was a busy man and he had expressed his regret about not being able to meet her in person until this evening.

The redhead swallowed. She would be meeting her future husband for the first time in an entirely public place. Because of the scandal, every member of the ton would have their eyes glued to the pair, assessing whether or not their claim was veracious. It wasn't, of course; but Blossom desperately needed to make sure not a soul picked up on the real truth. She would have to greet the duke not only as if she knew him, but like she was madly in love with him too. Her future was entirely contingent on whether or not their ploy succeeded.

As her mind wandered, she wondered what the duke, Brick, was like in person. From the few letters they had exchanged, she gathered that he was a proper, polite gentleman that was very intelligent and good with words. But was he like really? Was he reserved and reticent like Dexter or passionate and lurid like the tavern man who haunted her dreams? She shuddered, drawing her pelisse closer.

She lifted the newest letter on her table and let eyes scan over the reassuring inken words.

My lady,

My deepest regrets that we may not meet privately before Greene's ball this evening, but I wish to remind you the importance of your countenance once we are acquainted at it. It is of most significance that you appear comfortable and happy to be with me, no matter your true feelings. However, I am confident you will not belie our ruse.

I have heard much about you these past few days, especially praise for your radiant beauty. I do look forward to meeting you tonight and I hope you do not dread meeting me.

Yours,

Brick, Duke of York

Somehow, Blossom couldn't contain a blush after rereading his kind words. Surely he could not be as detestable as she feared.

"Blossom, are you ready?" Bubbles asked, peeking her head into her elder sister's room. She stepped in, grinning as her eyes scanned the redhead, Buttercup not far behind.

"I am," Blossom said quickly, placing the document back into a drawer. Turning around to face her sisters, she smoothed out the wrinkles of her resplendent rose gown. Anxious to please her future brother-in-law, Bubbles forced Blossom into a dazzling coral dress that hugged the perfect curves and was complete with a beaded neckline that teased the right amount of décolletage and brought out her sister's pink eyes. A few strands of pink pearls and matching earbobs completed Blossom's elegant outfit.

"You look amazing," the blonde's blue eyes were wide in awe.

"York's not going to know what hit him," Buttercup added with a smug grin.

Taking in a deep breath, Blossom put a warm smile on her face, pushed down the butterflies floating in her stomach and followed her sisters out to their carriage.

...

As Brick took a sip of champagne, he reflected on the past few days. After discovering the threat of a traitor within the Foreign Embassy that Brick secretly organized and learning the true extent to the disarray of the dukedom of York, spending yesterday evening with John Utonium had been rather pleasant. Utonium was transparent in his gratitude for Brick's offer and generous in his daughter's dowry, but he made it clear he refused to see Blossom hurt by the turn of recent events. Brick was happy to oblige to his terms, especially in light of the large sum that would soon occupy his pocket.

Now that the particulars had been sorted out, the only thing left for Brick to do was to charm his fiancée. Deciding he had too many problems to conquer at the moment, the redhead figured he wouldn't add a disgruntled wife to them. Her letters to him had been curt, so he still didn't know much about the future duchess, aside from hearsay. Brick was prepared to see a corpulently fat or sickly gaunt, acrimonious termagant or obsequious sycophant in a few minutes, so taking another sip of alcohol, he turned towards his brothers.

"Are you ready?" Boomer asked gently, tugging on his cuffs, nervous for his brother.

"No," Brick snorted. Sobering his expression, he added, "But I'll do what I have to."

"I hear she has sisters...?" Butch raised an eyebrow curiously as he took a swig.

The redhead smirked, "Play your cards right and you might end up with a third of the Cambridge fortune too."

Butch let out a sardonic laugh at his brother's good-natured ribbing, "I don't think so. This captain's content to live a life of bachelorhood."

Boomer shook his head at his brothers, but his lively expression soon turned grim. "Don't turn around, Brick."

The red-eyed duke did the exact opposite and looked behind himself to see a haughty chesnut-haired woman with smug amber eyes. He glowered and took a long swig of drink. "What in hell, Boomer?" he growled.

"I warned you," the blond shrugged.

"Dude, forget about her. You're marrying Lady Cambridge, remember?" Butch attempted to console him.

"I know, I know," Brick grumbled. "I just didn't expect to see her here," he shook his head.

"She is the Princess," the blue-eyed brother reminded gently. "And I'm sure she can't bother you tonight, of all nights."

Brick muttered a few curses under his breath, but his response was swiftly interrupted by a booming announcement.

"Please welcome Lord John Utonium, Duke of York and his three daughters, Lady Blossom, Lady Buttercup and Lady Bubbles of Cambridge!"

Applause filled the room and Brick joined in, focusing his attention on the spiral staircase the four nobles were descending upon. He immediately recognized the graying duke, but the three beauties who followed him were lost upon the redhead. The first was a dainty, petite blonde with soft features and sparkling blue eyes that matched her aquamarine gown; the second was a tall brunette with an athletic build and sharp features that framed her jade eyes and complemented her verdant dress; but the third, final lady was absolutely breathtaking.

Her shimmering copper locks were piled up in an elegant bun, a single curled strand framing her gentle face on each side. Her high cheekbones, porcelain skin, and luscious lips weren't the most stunning part of her, however; large, glittering rosy eyes that carefully flickered around the ballroom were. As Brick's eyes lowered to her ample bosom and womanly curves, he felt a distinctly masculine heat rush down. His gaze returned to her angelic face that exuded confidence, grace and pride; a face that seemed familiar somehow. But Brick quickly put that thought to rest. If he had known her from somewhere else, there's no way he wouldn't remember her beauty.

As Cambridge approached the three brothers with his brood fast behind him, Brick wondered which one was his. While the blonde and brunette were beautiful, he would have a hard time staying faithful if their redheaded sister lingered in his company. Mulling how to introduce himself without being completely obvious, he realized that his fiancée was probably doing the same exact thing. She must be looking at the three brothers, curious to see which one she was scandalously linked to.

"York, always a pleasure," the duke stepped forward to shake his future son-in-law's hand solidly. Butch and Boomer took a step back, opening up Brick to the ladies. Each of the three's eyes widened, a glint of pleasure highlighting each of their gazes as they realized who the duke was.

Damn it, they all looked happy to see him. He had no hint as to which should be the happiest. Realizing that the entire room has its eyes to glued to the group, Brick sighed and took his first chance. Taking the delicate hand of the blonde into his own and kissing it briefly, he asked for a dance. She giggled and smiled in assent.

"Very kind of you to dance with the lonely sister first, my lord," Bubbles' blue eyes twinkled in amusement as they swirled on the ballroom floor.

"You're not Lady Blossom?" Brick's eyes widened as he led them in step.

"I'm Bubbles, unfortunately. ...You seem relieved, my lord," she teased gently. Not allowing him to respond, she added coyly, "May I inquire who the blonde man standing behind you earlier was? He seems most pleasant."

"He is," the redhead smirked. "I'm sure my brother, Boomer, would be flattered to have your attentions, my lady."

As the dance came to an end, he led Bubbles back to her father. He was about to ask the blonde which of her remaining sisters was his fiancée when the two returned to earshot of the ton. Brick cringed. He couldn't ask her know lest the entire court find out their ruse.

Taking in a breath, he approached the brunette and gently kissing her hand, the redhead requested a dance. Snorting in a most unladylike fashion, she followed him to the floor.

"Surely you don't think I'm Blossom," the green-eyed lady raised an eyebrow as she stepped to the dance's prescribed movements.

"Of course not," Brick replied, a little too quickly, refusing to let the chit think him a fool. Suddenly realizing that the resplendent redhead had to be his future wife, his red eyes lit up. Returning his attention to her sister, he added, "Lady Buttercup, I was hoping to make a favorable impression on my future wife by honoring her sisters with a dance each first," he lied smoothly.

"Hmm," Buttercup swirled, not completely convinced. "As you say, my lord. Do tell, who is that buffoon staring in our direction? I believe you were conversing with him earlier. My apologies if he is your friend," she added quickly.

"No apology necessary," the redhead said wryly as he looked back to see Butch's eyes fixed on the brunette. "He's my brother, Butch. Do yourself a favor and stay away from him," he said half-seriously, half in jest.

"I'll keep that in mind," the brunette murmured as the dance came to an end and Brick released her.

Making his way to Lady Blossom, Brick couldn't help his eyes as they traveled down her. He suddenly shelved his regrets about proposing to her, but a tugging sense of familiarity wouldn't evade him. He approached the redhead and bowing deeply, he took her hand and laid the most tender kiss he'd ever given on her soft flesh.

"My love," Brick murmured, loud enough for the curious eavesdroppers to hear. "Grant me this dance."

"Of course, my lord," Blossom bowed her head in assent, allowing a rosy blush to capture her cheekbones.

Not taking his hand off hers for a moment, he slowly brought her to the floor as a waltz, the most intimate of dances, began to play.

"How perfect," the duke let out a little smirk as he brought the lady close. He had to stifle his natural reaction to having such a beautiful woman pressed up against him. The odd familiar tug pulled once again, but Brick ignored it, turning his attention to the other redhead instead. "There's not a soul whose eyes aren't on us, right now."

Shivers went up Blossom's spine as his warm breath pooled near her neck and ear. Unbeknownst to him, she too felt a sense of déjà vu as she was held in his arms. Bringing her mind back to their present situation, she responded to his earlier statement. "We are the object of the year's best scandal, my lord," she replied, her confidence shaky as she stepped along with the duke.

"Please, call me Brick," he offered, but his authority seeped through his words and made them seem more like a gentle demand.

"As you wish, my- Brick," Blossom's coral eyes fluttered downward, as a sudden apprehension seized her. His sparkling red eyes seemed so familiar... So comfortable. So enticing.

"Do I have the permission to refer to you by your given name, my lady?" Brick murmured, knowing it was all a formality. Still, he asked.

"That goes without saying, of course," the smaller redhead said softly, mustering up the courage to look back up at him. Their gazes met and neither could suppress a smile.

"I think now would be an appropriate time to laugh coyly, as if I've just whispered a sweet nothing in your ear," he lowered his voice and bent his head down to the crook of her neck.

Blossom let out a short giggle, but looked up at her fiancé seriously soon afterwards, "If you want to hear more of my laugh, I would like to hear a sweet nothing," she stated, a small smile teasing her lips.

"If you insist," Brick smirked as he spun her around. Bringing her lithe body back to his, he whispered, "You're so much more beautiful and well-tempered than I had envisioned."

Blossom blushed and held her end of the bargain with a laugh that would make a coquette jealous before replying, "I thank you for the compliment, but I am sure you will rescind your latter statement once we become better acquainted," she warned.

"Well, I thank you for the warning, Pinky," he responded, a pet name rolling off his lips.

Her eyes widened, but she quickly regained her composure. "You are certainly more charming than I thought you would be," she said wryly.

"It's one of my most dangerous traits," he responded teasingly to her dry comment. The song came to an end and he did his best not to groan, but as they pulled apart, Brick felt a sudden loneliness. "Until later then, my love," he said gingerly, allowing wandering ears to hear the exchange. He kissed her hand, bowing, and she curtsied before the two went their separate ways.

...

"How cute," a dry voice drawled behind Blossom, causing the redhead to spin around and frown immediately.

"Princess," the redhead greeted curtly.

"Oh, Blossom," the amber-eyed princess shook her head as she stalked towards the pink-eyed lady, "Who do you think you're fooling?" she scoffed. "Pretending to be in love with Brick to salvage your reputation is so transparent."

Cut so deeply by her acrimonious words, Blossom didn't even realize Princess' casual use of Brick's first name. She put on a stony face as she eyed her archrival, "I don't know what you're talking about, Princess. We're engaged and we love each other very much." Her tone, so light and airy, could've fooled even the hardest skeptics.

"Whatever, Blossom," the chesnut-haired royal rolled her eyes. "I know Brick and I know he'd never fall in love with you. Your money, maybe. But never you. You're not his type," she taunted, sticking her nose up arrogantly.

Her words pierced Blossom's heart, but the redhead was too proud to show it. She was searching for a biting response, but her words became stuck in her throat. How did Princess know Brick? And exactly how well did they know each other?

Like a knight in shining armor, the object of her thoughts materialized and gently took her hand, paying no heed to Princess.

"Love, will you dance with me?" the redheaded duke requested gingerly.

Flushing, Blossom meekly nodded and allowed him to lead her to the dance floor, silently thanking him for whisking her away.

"I hear you're acquainted with Princess," Blossom piped shakily after a few moments of silence.

"Hardly," Brick's friendly red eyes turned hard.

"Good," Blossom blurted contentedly, but suddenly regretted her words. She looked up at Brick contritely. "Sorry," she murmured for her breach of propriety. "I just really don't care much for her," she explained softly.

"Don't be," Brick scoffed, the glint in his crimson irises returning. "I'm just glad we have something in common," he grinned.

For the umpteenth time that night, the duke reveled in making his fiancée blush. He found her presence incredibly calming, her graceful, but sharp words surprisingly comforting. It was as if all of his problems disappeared the moment she looked at him and it felt amazing. Brick briefly wondered what type of unfamiliar feeling this familiar woman brought to him. Love? That was impossible.

Or was it?

...

Blossom let her radiant smile take over and it took little effort to play the part of smitten fiancée before the court as she returned to her sisters. The duke, Brick, was so much more than she had imagined and being with him made her feel like she was walking on air. He seemed so familiar, so warm and being with him felt wonderful and provided such a pleasant escape from the issues that plagued her life, like Princess and her tart words.

Blossom's heart sank when she remembered what Princess said.

Surely Brick didn't feel the same way she did right now... He was probably just elated to have captured such a wealthy bride. She tried not to let her smile falter, but suddenly a thought hit her. What if... What if Brick was the one behind the rumor? He would get a rich, beautiful bride and she would be in no position to turn him down. Anger flashed in her eyes as understanding washed over her. Suddenly, it all made sense. Princess was right; Brick didn't like her. He liked her money.

"Lady Blossom, may I have this dance?"

Snapped away from her thoughts, Blossom's pink eyes widened when she saw Archduke Dexter with an outstretched hand towards her. Turning him down wouldn't be a breach of propriety since it was well-known she was an engaged woman, but Blossom accepted his hand anyway. She wasn't sure why, though; did she still have feelings for him or was she in dire need to be removed from her thoughts of Brick?

Feeling no spark or uncontrollable smile at Dexter's flat touch, Blossom reasoned that it couldn't be the first one. She almost laughed at herself for thinking she had been in love with the archduke all this time when it was apparent they didn't have chemistry in the slightest.

"Lady Blossom, forgive me, but I had no idea," the archduke finally stated after clearing his throat. "I was not aware that York was courting you."

Her pink eyes widened not in shame, but anger. His accusatory tone was not welcome and she was tempted to respond with a biting remark, but-

"May I cut in?" Brick asked, tapping Dexter's shoulder imposingly. His request sounded more like a demand. At the intense flicker in his scarlet eyes, the scrawnier archduke had no choice but to bow out. As Dexter moved away and Brick took Blossom's hand, the smaller redhead was surprised to feel how warm the duke was. Carefully looking up at him, she quickly understood he was radiating anger.

"Brick, this is highly improper," Blossom chided, ignoring his evident rage. Dancing more than two dances with the same man was almost unspeakably inappropriate; she had to make that clear to him.

"Well, we aren't the most proper pair here, are we?" Brick responded, his words clipped. Her eyes flickered downward immediately at mention of the scandal. Looking at her more intensely, he added darkly, "And dancing with a former suitor is?"

Blossom frowned at his assumption, "The archduke and I are only friends. We've never been more," she clarified. It was the truth; what she and Brick had in an evening, Dexter didn't even come close to in months. The pink-eyed lady looked up resolutely to see her fiancé's response.

To her surprise, he had softened and looked almost contrite. "I apologize, then." After a pause, he added, "I trust you, Blossom. You should know that."

His words made her lose footing, but Brick swiftly placed one hand on her hips and another on her thigh to steady her. She accidentally let out a soft moan when she felt his touch there. Flushing, she looked down, furiously trying to hide her blush. Brick had confessed that he trusted her while Blossom wondered whether he had been the one to incite the horrid rumor that had brought them together. She questioned him on such an important issue that it was evident she couldn't trust him. She was ashamed and couldn't bear to look up at Brick.

Sensing her discomfort, Brick gingerly placed his hand on her chin and tilted it up so that she was forced to lock eyes with him. "Are you feeling alright?" he asked softly. She nodded once, smiling weakly. "I don't know who started that rumor, Blossom, but I'm a little happy they did," he murmured, his words sincere.

In that moment, Blossom couldn't say anything else except, "Me too, Brick."

...

Merry Christmas! I'd be elated if you left some presents in my stocking. And by presents I mean reviews and by stocking I mean inbox. It'd be super!

And as always, thanks for reading (: