Christmas Yet to Come Read Free

something…dispiriting, for lack of a better word…to see how low they could sink. She didn’t enjoy hearing them plead with her, even if that was better than her having no effect on them.
    Though somehow she couldn’t see Justin cringing and begging, not even if she put on the performance of an eternity.
    She leaned down and stirred the puddled shroud with a fingertip, then relented and hung the cloth up neatly on a fireguard. But she didn’t need to perform for him, did she? He wasn’t anywhere near as bad as some of the people she’d intimidated with her faceless silence and the visions she showed them of empty lives followed by full graves.
    So as long as he treated other people decently, why did it matter whether he kept Christmas or not? That might have been a blasphemous thought, but she’d been having a lot of those recently. Besides, she’d already been turned human and had apparently lost all her powers. What more could happen?
    Justin came in, put a little folding table between the two armchairs and set a tray on it. She expected him to sit down, but instead he remained where he was, looking at her with a furrow between his brows.
    Before she could wonder whether she’d given herself away, his gaze went to the bedroom slippers on the floor—a quick glance as if to check they were there, but thankfully it was enough of a hint for her. Of course, she shouldn’t have sat with her feet tucked under her, no matter how warm that felt. Quickly she slid her feet into the slippers, wiggling her toes against the sheepskin lining.
    Justin still didn’t look as though everything was back to normal, but he sat down, and Laura turned her attention to the tray. If she pretended nothing was wrong, he’d be less likely to call attention to her mistake, and in any case, she was hungry enough that she didn’t need to feign interest in supper. Her stomach rumbled and cramped from the smell of food, her mouth watered and she felt light-headed. Being human was a peculiarly fragile condition, and with her luck, she’d have to stay that way until she convinced him to deck the halls.
    Preoccupied though she was with that, she still enjoyed her meal. The Ghost of Christmas Present always appeared with armfuls of roast turkeys, mince pies and ripe oranges, so if Laura had been used to such a feast, bread and cheese and a slice of cold meat pie might have been a crumb in comparison. But she was quite content with her supper, and ate with an appetite sharpened from the brandy. Justin watched her, much as he had done before, but she was too absorbed with the food to care.
    Finally she swallowed the last mouthful, which she’d chewed slowly to make the taste last as long as possible. Crumbs clung to her fingers, and she looked at them, wishing she knew what to do about that. He gave her a linen handkerchief.
    â€œThank you,” she said. “That was delicious.”
    He poured them both cups of steaming cocoa, looking amused. “Just whatever odds and ends I could find. Though now I’m certain you’re not injured.” Some of her good mood drained away, but before she could think of what to say, he went on. “I’d send my coachman for a doctor anyway, but I took a look outside. The snow’s coming down, and the wind’s picked up. If the weather’s better tomorrow, I’ll alert the constabulary about your situation.”
    â€œOh.” She wasn’t at all keen on that—would they take her away? Question her? Lock her up? Surely not, since she hadn’t done anything wrong.
    He gave her a keen look from under dark brows. “You don’t want your family to be worrying about where you are, do you? Especially since tomorrow is Christmas Eve.”
    â€œNo, of course not.”
    She’d become the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come twenty years ago. At least, she thought it was twenty, because she tried not to count those