Mistletoe Kisses and Yuletide Joy Read Free

always been with her parents or friends.
    Her few solitary ventures were only to the local shops, where she was well known.
    Calling on strangers was a different matter entirely, especially upper class strangers. Even invading their stables seemed daring.
    She considered asking a neighboring gentleman for his escort, but then dismissed the idea. It was only two days to Christmas, and her closest friends were out of town. In any case, if she needed an escort to talk to some servants about an unruly cat, how was she to manage her life?
    Straightening her shoulders, she headed for the door.
    " Oh, miss!" called Pol, dashing into the hall. "It's getting right overcast. Spitting even. Shouldn't you take an umbrella?"
    Kitty opened the door and saw the maid was right. An excuse to put off the mission?
    Never. She reached for her umbrella in the stand by the door, only then realizing that it was a pale cream with a lacy edge. It would look ridiculous with her black full-length spencer, gloves, and bonnet. Almost reluctantly, she picked out her father's substantial black one, tears stinging.
    Two years ago they had been a contented family, then her father had taken that wasting disease. Within months of his death, her mother had died of a seizure. Kitty couldn't help wondering if it had been from grief, for they had been a deeply devoted couple. And she was left alone.
    Once outside, she opened the umbrella and imagined herself under the shield of her parent's wisdom and care. They would want her to handle this matter firmly and fairly, and so she would.
    She walked briskly down Suffolk Street past a number of houses exactly like her own, exchanging greetings with two neighbors who were hurrying because of the spitting rain. At the corner, she turned right along Charles Street, and then right again into Wells Street.
    Wells Street was not on the way to anywhere Kitty normally went, and so she had rarely passed through it. Now, she assessed it nervously.
    It was a little wider than Suffolk Street, both in the road and the pavements, which were edged with metal bollards to protect pedestrians from traffic. The houses were larger, some even double-fronted. The metal railings around the steps down to the basement were ornate, and a few had gilded embellishments.
    Nearly all the houses were without knockers, indicating that the family had left for the Christmas season, doubtless to celebrate it at their country seats.
    Though her father had been a gentleman born -- son of the younger son of a viscount -- Kitty had not been raised to think rank of great importance. Now, however, the knowledge that the Wells Street mews was for the care of the carriages and horses of the nobility added to her nervousness.
    She squashed that down and marched on.
    Half way along Wells Street, a lane passed between two houses, leading down to the mews. Kitty took it with firm steps. When she entered an open yard surrounded by the stables and carriage houses, she realized it was very quiet. Of course. With most of the wealthy families away, there'd be no need of their horses.
    For a moment she thought she might be able to retreat with honor, but then she heard whistling from one of the buildings. With a sigh she went to peer over the half-door. A middle-aged man was brushing a steaming horse.
    Kitty was not much used to horses -- they were just creatures who pulled coaches -- but she knew this was a very fine beast. At least one of the grand and wealthy must be around.
    " Excuse me," she said, and the whistling groom looked up, falling silent.
    He touched his forelock. "Can I 'elp you, ma'am?"
    " I'm inquiring about a cat."
    " A cat, ma'am? Don't reckon as we've had no kittens around 'ere recently." The horse nudged at him. "Beggin' your pardon, but I'd best keep rubbing 'im down." He returned to the long strokes and the horse seemed to soften with pleasure.
    " I do not want to acquire a cat," Kitty said, fascinated by the sensuous rubbing and the animal's