“Hear, hear,” several of the men called in agreement.
Emma rolled her eyes. “Seeing as I had a lack of volunteers from the gentlemen present, I engaged the services of a local blacksmith who is a professional first-footer. He will arrive shortly after midnight and in his pockets, he’ll be carrying a lump of coal, a black bun, salt, and a dram of whisky. These things are supposed to bring luck, prosperity, and hospitality in the new year.”
Thea went to the piano, settling her blue satin skirts around her. Tremont stood by her side and arranged the pages of the music. As she played the first bars of Auld Lang Syne, Bart, who’d been asleep in Tessa’s lap, stirred. He opened his eyes, yawning as the room filled with singing voices. Poignant emotion filled Tessa as she sang Robert Burns’s timeless words:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot
And days of auld lang syne?
When the song ended, Emma herded them all to the front entrance for the first footing. Tessa brought up the rear carrying a sleepy Bart, and the front door opened as they arrived.
“Perfect timing,” Emma said brightly. “Here is our first-footer…”
A tall, dark-haired man came in, shaking the snow off his hat and coat.
It wasn’t the blacksmith.
“Harry,” Tessa breathed.
Her husband’s brown eyes met hers, the warmth in them evident even through the fogged lenses of his spectacles. He returned the greetings of his family and friends, his gaze never straying from hers as he strode over.
He smiled down at her, so handsome that her heart hurt.
“Happy New Year, sprite,” he murmured. “Sorry I was delayed.”
She would have replied, but Bart came fully awake, shouting joyfully, “Papa!”
Harry bent to give her a quick, hard kiss. Then he took their son.
“How’s my lad?” he asked.
“I play,” Bart said. “With fire!”
Harry shot her a look; she shrugged ruefully.
“The boy gets that from me,” a familiar voice boomed proudly.
Startled, Tessa whirled around to see her grandfather entering. He was swathed in an old-fashioned greatcoat which emphasized his barrel-chested build and leaning heavily on his walking stick. Her stepmama Mavis held onto his other arm.
“Grandpapa, Mama,” she cried joyfully. “What are you…?”
“Your ’usband convinced us family ought to be together o’er the holidays, Tessie,” Grandpapa said. “Decided to make the trip after all.”
“You are most welcome, Mr. Black and Mrs. Todd,” Emma said graciously. “Please come in and warm yourself by the fire.”
“Don’t mind if I do, Yer Grace,” Grandpapa said.
He looked at Tessa. “Why are you blubbering, Tessie?”
“I-I’m not blubbering,” Tessa said. “I-I am just h-happy.”
“It’s the breeding, I expect.” Her grandfather harrumphed. “Take care or my next great-grandchild could come out a watering pot. And we Blacks ’ave no use for that, do we?”
Before she could reply, he wrapped one arm around her and another around her mama.
“’Appy new year, my girls,” he murmured.
An instant later, he released them to pick up Bart, who’d been bouncing up and down trying to get his attention.
“’Ow’s my favorite lad?” he boomed.
“Scare people!” Bart mimicked his great-grandfather’s ferocious look. “Use sword and fire!”
“A true Black through and through,” Grandpapa said with satisfaction.
“Harry,” Emma said suddenly, “what do you have in your pocket?”
Tessa noticed the large bulge in her husband’s coat. Was it…moving?
“It is the real reason I was delayed.” Smiling, Harry came up to her. “But I wanted to give Tessa her present in time for the new year.”
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a tiny wicker basket: curled up inside was a baby ferret. He lifted the animal out, placing it gently into Tessa’s cupped hands. Her eyes stung as she saw the resemblance to Swift Nick from the champagne-colored fur to the eyes blinking at her from within a dark, furry mask.
“Oh, Harry,” she whispered. “He’s perfect.”
“It’s a she, actually. Of the litter, she most resembled Swift Nick. The breeder said she is one of Swift Nick’s nieces.”
Tessa rubbed a finger between the ferret’s ears, and it made a happy tuk-tuk sound. Her joy overflowed, tears rolling down her cheeks.
“Harry, why don’t you take care of your wife?” Emma said briskly. “We’ll take the ferret for now. Everyone else, back to the drawing room for toasts. You are welcome to join us, Mr. Smith.”
The last was directed at the tall, dark, and confused-looking man who’d walked through the front door. It was the blacksmith, who was probably wondering why no one was paying his arrival any mind.
When the crowd departed, Tessa was left alone with Harry, who took out a handkerchief and dabbed at her cheeks.
“What is the matter, love?” Concern shone in his eyes. “Is it the babe? Are you feeling unwell—”
“No…no. I feel perfectly well now that you are here.” She smiled at him through her tears. “Thank you for bringing Grandpapa and Mama. And I love my present, though not as much as I love you.”
His eyes flared. “God, I’ve missed you.”
He kissed her, this time with a hungry urgency that made her heart soar. She clung to him, kissing him back with all the love and desire she felt. After a few moments, she broke away.
Aiming her gaze at the thick, prominent ridge that she’d felt and now could see, she whispered happily, “You really did miss me.”
“Minx.” He gave her a rueful look. “Can you blame me? You haven’t been feeling well these past few weeks, and I’ve been trying to be a considerate husband.”
Her friends had been right. Of course.
“Is that why you’ve been out late so much?” she couldn’t help but ask.
“That and I had to make arrangements with the breeder. He lives outside of London now, and the only time I had to meet with him was at night. It wasn’t easy keeping those visits a secret, but I wanted the gift to be a surprise.”
Feeling foolish and light-hearted, Tessa said, “You are the best of husbands.”
“I am glad you think so.” Harry cocked his head. “How are you feeling now?”
“Wonderful.” It was the truth.
“No more nausea? Dizziness?”
She shook her head…and let out a peal of laughter as Harry swept her off her feet. He headed purposefully toward the staircase even as toasts rang from the drawing room.
“But Harry, we can’t abandon the party…”
He covered her mouth with his, turning her protests into moans.
7
New Year’s Day
Outside in the garden the next morning, Emma surveyed her party with a feeling of satisfaction. The sun was bright, scattering diamonds over the carpet of snow. The children were running about, chasing one another and getting along…for the most part.
The adults watched on, looking alternately amused and exasperated at their offspring’s antics. Harry, Emma saw, was holding Tessa’s hand, and from the pretty glow on the latter’s face, all was well again. Their son Bart was racing around the fountain, menacing his peers with his wooden sword while his great-grandpapa beamed with pride.
Emma took stock of her other siblings as well, and their obvious contentment added to her own. Life was like a country road, filled with ups and downs but, in the end, she didn’t mind as long as it always led her back here…to home. Home, she realized, was not just a place or even a gathering of the people one loved most: it was that strong, unbreakable feeling of connection. Home was a shelter during difficult times and a celebration during triumphs.
Home was everything.
A familiar strong arm
circled her waist, and she shivered as Alaric murmured against her ear, “Pleased with your party, are you, pet?”
He read her so well.
“I am counting my blessings.” She leaned into him. “I have so much to be grateful for, darling. Our family is well, and while things aren’t always perfect, we get through adversity together.”
“That is what counts, love.”
Sensing that something had distracted him, she followed the direction of his gaze. Livy had entered the garden. Dressed for the outdoors in a woolen tartan cloak with a matching beret over her chestnut curls, she was skipping alongside the Duke of Hadleigh, who looked both taken aback and amused by her company.
“They make for an odd pair, don’t they?” Emma mused.
“Indeed.” Her husband’s tone was thoughtful. “If it weren’t for Hadleigh, however…”
Emma’s throat tightened. The notion was too much to bear.
“We owe him much, and we must think of some way to repay him.” Observing the younger duke’s red-rimmed eyes and gauntness, signs of a dissipated life, she said, “Perhaps your friendship would be a place to start. Hadleigh looks in need of a decent role model.”
“You think I am a role model of decency?” Alaric slanted her a devilish look. “After the way I debauched you last night?”
Emma blushed. She was still a bit sore and deliciously languid from their intimate celebration of the new year.
“Well, you are wicked,” she amended, “but mainly when it comes to bedroom matters. Beyond those, you are quite principled. And I do believe that Hadleigh could use a good friend.”
“He shall have one.” Alaric said it like a vow.
“Thank you, darling.”
“No, thank you, Emma.”
She smiled at him. “For what?”
“For giving me a family. For being the home I always longed for.” He rubbed his thumb over her bottom lip, his eyes intense with feeling. “Most of all, for being you.”
Her heart squeezed with answering emotion. “I love you too.”
Their kiss was a tender, passionate tribute to the new year. It brimmed with the sweetness of the past, the joy of the present, and the promise of all the future days ahead.
* * *
Dear Reader,
This year has been a challenging one, and it is my fondest wish that this visit with the Kent family and their friends provided a bit of extra holiday cheer. While we might not be able to see our loved ones in person, hopefully we can celebrate love in other ways. In Emma’s words, I hope you find that “strong, unbreakable feeling of connection” however you can, knowing that as long as we hold love and hope in our hearts, there is always light ahead.
* * *
Some of you may be wondering about spirited little Livy McLeod and the Duke of Hadleigh…and for that I have exciting news! Their book, OLIVIA AND THE MASKED DUKE, will be out February 18, 2021 and is available for preorder (just click on the title or the cover below!). In this steamy and passionate tale, Livy is all grown up, ready to have adventures…and to win the heart of her girlhood crush, the Duke of Hadleigh!
Finally, if you’ve missed the stories of any of the couples in STEAMY WINTER WISHES, the next section has a complete listing of all my titles by series and character!
Stay safe and wishing you much love,
Grace
Also by Grace Callaway
LADY CHARLOTTE’S SOCIETY OF ANGELS
Olivia and the Masked Duke (Olivia & Ben)
GAME OF DUKES
The Duke Identity (Harry & Tessa)
Enter the Duke (Ransom & Maggie)
Regarding the Duke (Garrity & Gabby)
The Duke Redemption (Wickham & Beatrice)
The Return of the Duke (Knight & Fancy)
HEART OF ENQUIRY (Kent Family)
The Widow Vanishes (Annabel & Will)
The Duke Who Knew Too Much (Emma & Alaric)
M is for Marquess (Thea & Gabriel)
The Lady Who Came in from the Cold (Penny & Marcus)
The Viscount Always Knocks Twice (Violet & Richard)
Never Say Never to an Earl (Polly & Sinjin)
The Gentleman Who Loved Me (Rosie & Andrew)
MAYHEM IN MAYFAIR
Her Husband’s Harlot (Helena & Nicholas)
Her Wanton Wager (Percy & Gavin)
Her Protector's Pleasure (Marianne & Ambrose)
Her Prodigal Passion (Charity & Paul)
About the Author
USA Today & International Bestselling Author Grace Callaway writes hot and heart-melting historical romance filled with mystery and adventure. Her debut novel was a Romance Writers of America® Golden Heart® Finalist and a #1 National Regency Bestseller, and her subsequent novels have topped national and international bestselling lists. She is the winner of the Daphne du Maurier Award for Excellence in Mystery and Suspense, the Maggie Award for Excellence in Historical Romance, and the Passionate Plume Award for Historical Novel. She holds a doctorate in clinical psychology from the University of Michigan and lives with her family in a valley close to the sea. When she’s not writing, she enjoys dancing, exploring the great outdoors with her rescue pup, and cheering on her favorite basketball team.
Keep up with Grace’s latest news!
Newsletter: gracecallaway.com/newsletter
Steamy Winter Wishes © Grace Callaway, 2020.
ISBN: 978-1-939537-53-9
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.
* * *
Cover Design Credit: Erin Dameron-Hill/ EDH Graphics
Cover Image Credit: Kim Killion Group
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License Notes
This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the author's work.
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