AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Lord Tilbury?” It seemed John had procured another round of questions.
“Yes, John?” There was nothing but patience in Stephen’s face, and for that she adored him. Oh, he would have made a wonderful father. Hot guilt and regret circled through Lynette’s belly. They could have had that...
“Does mistletoe work if it’s the man standing under it?”
Stephen peered upward. A certain crestfallen look came over his face. “Ah, I’m not certain.”
By then, the duke’s notice has been snagged. He sauntered over to their side of the drawing, pulling his duchess by the hand with him. “I don’t see why not. Mrs. Hodgins, since you’re the closest lady, go over and give my son a kiss. He seems at sixes and sevens at the moment.”
Wasn’t that the way she’d left him all those years ago? Heat jumped into her cheeks. “But I’d rather—”
“Humor me.” The duke came closer with an intense gleam in his eye. “I’m a duke and my health is fragile.”
“Oh.” Belatedly she remembered what Stephen had said about his father’s heart.
John tugged on her hand, imploring her as only a seven-year-old could. “Yes, Mama, kiss him. It was ever so nice when you did it in the kitchens earlier.”
Merciful heavens.Her cheeks burned all the hotter when the duke and duchess stared at her with confusion. “Very well.” If she didn’t, John would keep on and she’d have to explain what had occurred earlier. Lynette stood. When she joined Stephen beneath the mysterious greenery, she sighed. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you planned this,” she whispered, battling both sadness and excitement... and perhaps a trace of fear.
“Not this, I didn’t.” His expression reflected emotions she couldn’t read. Regret perhaps? But why?
It serves you right.If he hadn’t attempted to plan out every year of her life, they might still be together. With nothing for it, and nearly everyone looking on, Lynette lifted on tiptoe and pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips. “Christmastide blessings, Stephen.”
“Thank you. To you as well.” He held her gaze for a second longer than necessary, his eyes clouded and inscrutable. Then he looked at her son. “I don’t know about you, but I’m famished. Come with me to the kitchens. Perhaps Cook will give us a tart or a hand pie if we return her serving platter.”
The duke snorted. “Mr. Alberts can do that.”
Stephen shook his head. “Let me. I need the exercise anyway.”
Lynette watched them go with a tight squeezing pain around her heart. She’d lost her husband all too soon and hadn’t had time to recover from that heartbreak. Was a second chance with Stephen worth the potential for pain if something happened to tear them asunder again?
