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“How could I forget, when memories accost me at every turn here?” She kept her voice low, but her eyes lit. “It was something both you and my husband enjoyed. Which makes it difficult at times to remain cheerful.”
“Then I’ll need to make certain you only remember the happy times.” He dropped his voice. “And the kisses stolen beneath mistletoe.”
The blush in her cheeks deepened. “Stop that.”
It was a good indication of her feelings, but John pelted in, destroying any chance of furthering an inquiry.
“Here it is.” He held up a cut out of the mistletoe plant. It had been painted with watercolors, and the paper curled at the edges. “I tried to make it realistic.”
“What a wonderful drawing.” Stephen made a show of glancing between it and the real spring that rested above their heads as if he’d just seen it. “By Jove! Look at that. Someone tacked up a sprig right here.”
A low groan issued from Lynette. “You don’t play fair, Stephen,” she whispered.
He chuckled. No, he didn’t, but he kept his attention on John. “You know what it means when a lady finds herself under such a plant?”
“Oh, yes. Lady Lettice told me yesterday when we were searching out greenery.” He looked at his mother with a cheeky grin. “She must kiss a gentleman.”
“Indeed. How smart you are.” He once more glanced upward and then back at John as his heartbeat raced. It was daring and devious, but he wanted that first mistletoe kiss. Everything he needed to know would be contained therein. “Shall I kiss your mother in the spirit of Christmastide?”
“Stephen, I—”
John cut off her protest by hopping up and down. “Yes, do! I’ve never seen anyone kiss before, and Mama’s not had a kiss in ever so long.”
Her cheeks fairly flamed now. “I told you that in confidence, John,” she said, much to the giggles of the kitchen maids.
“Well, we can’t have that.” Stephen gave the basket of cakes to John. “Please hold this, Master Hodgins while I share Christmastide cheer with your mother.” He dropped a hand to her waist, being certain to maneuver her beneath the mistletoe sprig.
“This is ridiculous.” But the twinkle in her eyes said otherwise, and it lit tiny fires in his blood.
“So it is, yet Christmastide demands it. These are the rules.” With very little effort, he slipped his hand to the small of her back and tugged her a tiny bit closer. When she laid a palm to his chest, he stifled a groan, for it felt like heaven to have her touch him again. Then he lowered his head and gently claimed her lips that tasted like the plum jam she’d used to make some of her pastries from. Aware her son and the kitchen staff looked on, he pulled away, but that little kiss certainly didn’t satisfy him, even if it brought home the fact that it felt right in doing such with her. Plus, the blush on her cheeks and the pleasure in her eyes betrayed the fact that she’d enjoyed it as well.
Everything is going according to plan.
“Well, then.” Stephen couldn’t help his grin. He dropped his hand from Lynette’s back and then tousled John’s hair. “Perhaps you should keep your drawing handy, Master Hodgins. We may need to use in case there’s no real plant around.”
“I’ll keep it safe, Lord Tilbury.”
“Good lad.”
“But I’m not going to ever kiss a girl, even if there is mistletoe. It didn’t look very interesting to me.”
“Fair enough, but you should revisit that thought once you’re grown. Some ladies are so nice and pretty, they need kissing.” He winked at Lynette.
“Do stop, Stephen, lest you corrupt him.” But she smiled, and the whole ruse had been worth that.
“Corrupt him? Never. Teach him how to be a gentleman? Always.” He took the basket from the boy. “Now, let’s see about doing justice to your mother’s cakes, eh, Master Hodgins?”
“I would like that. They’re some of my favorites.”
“Mine as well.”
“Lord Tilbury?”
“Yes?”
“Might you call me John? I think it would be nice to hear.”
Stephen’s heart squeezed. He hadn’t counted on needing to court the boy as well. “If that’s what you’d like.”
