AllFreeNovel
Share Us
"It’s gorgeous," she murmurs.
"It is," I murmur, looking at her.
"I loved opening my gift on Christmas morning. It was the one time my father was around, and I knew he’d always have something I loved."
"Gift?"
She turns to me. "Yes, my father would buy me a gift."
"What about your—"
"Stepmother?" She shrugs. "We always pretended it was from her too, but it was obvious she never gave me much thought. Given a choice, she’d have sent me off to boarding school so I wouldn’t be around, and definitely not for Christmas morning. But it was the one thing my father refused to agree to. He’d promised my mother he’d keep me close. He also knew how much my mother had loved Christmas. And while he never had time for me otherwise, he made sure I knew I was loved during Christmas. What about you? Do you love Christmas?"
"I don’t believe in Christmas."
There was a time when I did, but when I left the priesthood, I also turned my back on the rituals, and that's all Christmas really is.
"What?" She pivots to face me. "Are you serious?" She sees the expression on my face and her jaw drops. "You are serious."
"Always."
"You don’t say?" she says in a droll voice.
"It’s the one time of the year I ensure I’m away from this city."
"Christmas is the best time of the year in London. I arrived in this city last December and found it all lit up. There were decorations up in shop windows, the pubs were festive, people on the tube smiled at each other. I thought it was the most cheerful place on earth. Then came January, and I realized it’s the only time of the year people walk around with smiles. But my first impressions remained. I ended up falling in love with the city anyway. Now I can’t wait for December and the festive season. It’s the one time of the year everyone in London seems almost happy."
"Exactly."
"Jeez"—she shakes her head—"should’ve guessed you’re a Grinch."
"He’s a chip off the old block, all right." Arthur's voice reaches us. Then my grandfather draws abreast.
"Edward." He nods at me.
"Arthur." I nod back.
"You made it."
I half smile. You don’t turn the old man down. I haven’t known Arthur Davenport that long, but even if he hadn’t been my grandfather, his authority is writ large in everything he says and does. He’s not the kind of man you say no to easily.
"You must be Mirabelle." He turns to Belle.
"Grandad." She closes the distance to him and throws her arms about his shoulders. "I am so happy to meet you."
Arthur stiffens. His gaze widens, and he gapes at me. If I didn’t know better, I’d say the old man is shocked. And it takes a lot to shock him. I manage to keep the smile off my face, then watch as my grandfather recovers himself. He pats Belle on the shoulder. "It’s nice to meet you, too."
She steps back and beams up at him. "Call me, Mira."
"Hmm." He scans her features. "I can see why Edward fell in love with you."
"Oh, but he’s not—" she begins.
I cut her off. "I hope we didn’t keep you waiting."
"You did"—he shoots me a glance—"but since you were showing Mira around, you're forgiven."
Belle laughs, a happy sound that infuses warmth into my veins.
