Mischief & Mistletoe (A Christmas Novella) Read Free Page A

mutual one, challenging him with her dauntless posture and with those deep brown eyes—eyes that were far more knowing then he recalled. She had seemed such a fragile little miss then, with unwavering doe eyes that had managed to make him feel profane in comparison. He frowned at his thoughts, and her chin lifted another notch. He nearly choked over the challenge. “Yes,” he relented, clearing his throat. “I do… I do, indeed agree.”
    “Gad, Emma! Post it in the Times ?” her brother asked incredulously.
    “Of course,” she answered flippantly. “Why not?”
    “You may rest assured it shall be posted,” Andrew said irascibly, “though the account will be anything but lauding, I assure you. The truth is that those hounds will write what they choose and not what you please!”
    “Not necessarily,” Lucien countered. “I have connections.”
    “Oh?” she challenged. “The same connections who once affiliated you with Lady Victoria perchance?”
    Lucien opened his mouth to speak, and then closed it again. Bloody shrew. The question completely gobsmacked him. He had not, in fact, impregnated Lady Victoria, but until she had been found to be a virgin and the growth in her belly to be a medical mystery, everyone assumed it. In fact, all Lucien had attempted to do was to solicit the help of an expert physician for the poor woman—a chap he had met while in the Navy—the same man, in fact, who had treated their father. It was through him that Lucien had kept abreast of the Admiral’s illness.
    “Emma,” Andrew pleaded, ignoring him.
    “Andrew,” she countered, returning her brother’s plea.
    Lucien forced himself to settle back into the chair to watch the two spar, respectfully abstaining from their quarrel. He stole a sip of the port Andrew had offered him, and then Emma managed to astound him yet again and it was all he could do not to choke as he swallowed.
    She smiled and asked pertly of her brother, “Andrew, dearest, might you excuse us a moment, please? I have something I wish to say to His Grace. Alone .”
    Clearing his throat in surprise, Lucien downed the half-full glass and set it down upon Peters’s desk.
    “Please, Emma,” her brother entreated.
    Her voice was calm but firm. “I shan’t be but a moment, Andrew.”
    Her brother heaved a weary sigh. “Very well, though I shall be waiting in the corridor.” He came forward and grasped her shoulders, placing a tender kiss upon her forehead, and then he eyed Lucien pointedly, looking in the moment exactly like his father. “Willyngham,” he said as he withdrew, and Lucien recognized it for the warning it was meant to be. He had to give the man his due. He seemed to care not a whit for the difference in their station when it came to his sister. Lucien nodded his acknowledgment, and then waited until Andrew had closed the door behind him before looking at the little shrew.
    Curious how he didn’t recall her as such.
    “How dare you come here?” she hissed the instant he met her gaze. Her eyes narrowed furiously, and her hands went to her hips in anger.
    “What? No more Your Grace ?” he asked blithely. Clearly, she knew he was not the intended recipient. “I was so beginning to enjoy the sound of it upon your lips,” he remarked.
    She took a step forward, and Lucien thought she might fling herself at him in outrage. “How dare you, sirrah! If you had any true affection for my father, you would have stayed away!”
    He did care for her father. It was the reason he had drawn this out so long. And yet he had no notion how to respond to her accusation, for he’d truly believed he’d done the proper thing by coming to Newgale to inform her of his decision in person. Certainly it would have been easier to make the announcement, send her a message by courier and be done with it.
    “I thought you’d prefer a notice in person,” he said with genuine surprise.
    She marched a step forward, giving him a look to curl his liver, and Lucien