Page 30 of The Duke's Christmas Scandal

She winked. Ian howled.

“Shall we hang it in the gallery?” he asked when he was finished chortling. He studied the picture as though it were, indeed, fine art. Ian had managed to track down and purchase the portraits of many of his ancestors, yet the nude of his great-grandfather remained sadly out of reach, being the property of his sire’s mistress’ grandson, who was unwilling to sell it. For the moment. He and Ian had developed a cordial relationship over a series of letters—one of many family branches he had managed to repair ties with.

“If it were larger, I’d say we should hang it above the fireplace for all to admire,” he added, holding it up.

Tavi couldn’t suppress her chortle. “Wouldn’t that impress Lady Umbridge.”

The marchioness had turned up her nose at Tavi from the start. Many of thetonfollowed her example. Being snubbed stung at first, but Tavi had expected some degree of rebuke for, as some women phrased it,getting her hooks into him before better-bred ladies had a chance.

“Maybe we should let Grace decide where to put it.”

Tavi smacked Ian’s arm. “My sister does not need to see your naked posterior.”

“You painted it.”

True enough. Hanging it in the gallery was, of course, out of the question. They needed to find a way to get it out of sight, lest their guests be affronted. Tavi wasn’t worried about Ian being embarrassed. She had long since learned that he was nigh unembarrassable.

Hence, her gift.

“Speaking of Grace, when do the Emersons arrive?” he asked, sliding the painting back into its box for the time being.

“Soon. Any time now.” Not long after being jilted, Grace met a widower, Mr. Emerson. He had a daughter a few years older than Noel, whom he treated as his own son. Seeing their children play together was one of the highlights of every Christmas.

“Remember when we first sat before this fireplace?” Tavi said wistfully.

“You mean the night you fell through a chair’s seat, and we burned it?”

She swatted him, laughing.

Ian sobered and said, “I remember every moment of that night, Tavi. I remember thinking I had never met such a beautiful, brave woman. I thought, if anyone could help me get through the challenges of the next few years, it’s her. And you have.”

Tavi couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t swallow past the lump in her throat.

“Every day, I am so glad I met you, Tavi. I hope we’re here every Christmas for decades to come. I hope our children find delight in decorating a tree beside this ancient fireplace, and their children, and their children’s children. I never want to see our family torn apart by rivalry.”

“That’s not going to happen, Ian. Children squabble, but they grow up to be the best of friends. Look at me and Grace.”

As if she’d summoned her sister, a liveried footman announced, “Mr. and Mrs. Emerson have arrived, Your Grace. My lady.”

Tavi seized her husband by the hand, and, laughing, went to welcome her sister in from the cold.

* * *