Christmas At Thorncliff Towers Read Free

inside. Lord Winthrop, a strapping man with long, obsidian hair that grazed his hulking shoulders, stood in the center of an expansive drawing room. His dark eyes shot terror into Karina’s heart all over again, yet she had to admit his expression had softened.
    Perhaps his wife is having a profound effect on him after all .
    The stunning noblewoman looking over at him tenderly was, Karina presumed, Lady Isabella Winthrop. With a blazing hearth framed by velvet stockings as her backdrop, she resembled some kind of Christmas Queen. Her auburn hair—piled in a high, regal chignon—glimmered in the firelight and complemented her delicate features. And her perfect posture only added to her sophistication.
    A feeling of inferiority rose in Karina like hot fire. With a mass of tangled black hair, large brown eyes, and a wide face, her physical appearance opposed Lady Winthrop’s.
    I’ll never be that graceful or beautiful.
    Tearing her gaze from the noblewoman, Karina swept it across the drawing room. She saw a little girl of five or six seated on the floor. Flushed with excitement, the child was playing with a wooden toy. Her eyes glowed a bright blue—and considering her rounded facial shape and ivory curls, the girl was no relation to Lord and Lady Winthrop.
    “Is this your favorite gift so far, Grace Ann?” a plump noblewoman seated beside the child spoke kindly. Draped in a periwinkle gown, the middle aged woman smiled and began to play along.
    “Yes, Grandmamma.”
    “Eleanor,” said a third noblewoman, from her chair by a towering Christmas tree. “You’ll spoil your granddaughter rotten. It will become especially annoying to those left to deal with the aftermath.”
    “Hold your tongue, Cousin Helena. You mustn’t speak of the departed in front of Grace Ann,” Eleanor said. “And please don’t rob me of the pleasure I get from my only grandchild. I suspect you’ll feel the same way when your son has his children.”
    Karina watched Lord Winthrop and his mother exchange dour glances. As she stood outside, the wind billowed beneath her worn dress and stung her legs, but she was too intrigued to move away from the window.
    “Lord Winthrop.” A pleasant-faced nobleman wearing a tight ascot walked the length of the room. “Do you find living in the country an idle existence?”
    “Not at all, Lord Bixby.” Winthrop paused. “I much prefer the country to living in London. Here, nobody asks me frivolous questions—or interferes with my business.”
    Lord Bixby looked ruffled. “If I lived in no man’s land, I would miss shopping in Mayfair and attending Covent Garden.”
    Winthrop sucked in a deep breath. “If I left this house, I’d miss the countryside’s unassuming people.”
    Lord Bixby stalked away from the earl with a firm “humph”.
    “Grace Ann.” Isabella Winthrop leaned over and stroked the little girl’s hair. “I’m afraid it’s time for you to change for dinner, darling.”
    The child looked up at her, imploringly. “Do I have to, Lady Winthrop? Grandmamma and I are having such fun!”
    “I know, dearest.” Isabella said. “But I’m sure your grandmother wants to see you in the new frock she purchased. And Mrs. Tidwell has prepared a fabulous feast.”
    “With goose and raisin stuffing and Christmas tarts?”
    “Yes! Now run along with your governess, dear. She’ll help you change.”
    “I don’t like Miss Brentwood,” the little girl said firmly.
    “Grace Ann,” her grandmother interjected. “It isn’t polite to say such things.”
    The little girl smoothed her pinafore while a tall, fair-haired woman stepped forward to clasp her hand. With creamy skin and full lips the color of strawberries, the young woman raised an eyebrow and smiled before she led the child away. However, it wasn’t a genuine smile.
    Karina had to agree with Grace Ann. There was something unlikeable about the governess.
    The earl, his wife, and his mother escorted the remaining aristocrats out