Page 20 of Yule Be Mine

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll go upstairs to change.” Yule stared at his cousins then shook his head. “I likely will simply retire. Tomorrow will be a long day, I suspect.” He bowed and turned to go.

Miserable, Penelope tugged at his sleeve. “I’m terribly sorry I’ve ruined your evening.”

“Nonsense.” He shrugged. “You haven’t ruined it. I will see you tomorrow.” He continued toward the doorway, each step wrenching Penelope’s heart.

Tossing the handkerchief in Tom’s direction, she picked up her skirts and hurried after his cousin. “Yule.”

He stopped, just at the doorway and turned back to her.

Breathless, she rushed up to him. “I…I…” So many emotions swirled around her, it took a moment to form a sentence. “I’m dreadfully sorry for spilling the punch on you.” She looked up at him, his face wiped blank and unfathomable. “You will forgive me, won’t you?”

He glared down at her, a dark hunger in his eyes she’d never seen before. Frightened and thrilled, she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

Then his mouth was on hers, and she forgot everything—the punch, his jacket, her apology, the entire audience of his cousins—except his lips on hers, soft but insistent until her very bones threatened to melt.

Then he broke the kiss, turned and strode down the corridor.

Dazed, Penelope turned toward the cluster of people who had just witnessed a kiss that had undeniably compromised her. She cleared her throat, trying to put off the moment of reckoning as long as she could. Tom’s grin was about to split his face in two, to say nothing of her sister’s shocked countenance. If Mama hadn’t seen that indiscretion, she’d hear about it as soon as Charlotte ran over to her.

Straightening her shoulders, Penelope raised her chin and caught a glimpse of the only thing that stood between her and ruin. Composing her face into a pleasant smile, she pointed upward, to the small ball of greenery that hung in the middle of the archway. “Mistletoe.” She widened her smile. “Merry Christmas, everyone.”