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How the Duke Stole Christmas: A Stolen Kisses Novella

Page 7

by Alanna Lucas

Clara rested her head against her shoulder. “I love you.”

  Oh, my. She swallowed the despair in her throat as she clutched the girl. “I love you, too.”

  No sooner had she set Clara down on the bed then Max jumped up and claimed his spot at its foot. Within minutes Clara had nestled into her and fallen asleep. She spent the next few hours wondering what she was going to do.

  Greystone trudged into the breakfast room still reflecting on the mess of things he’d made last night, and all because he could not come to terms with the past and the woman who’d run off with his brother and broken his heart. Some wounds ran too deep to be healed.

  “Theodore, have you seen Clara this morning?”

  “No, the child is probably still abed.”

  “She’s not in her room, and neither is Max.” His mother took a slice of cake before taking her seat at the breakfast table. “Perhaps she’s with Patience. She hasn’t been down this morning either.”

  “I’m not Miss Leybourne’s keeper,” he snapped out.

  His mother gave him a dubious look. “I didn’t say you were.” She added milk to her tea and began to stir, the spoon never touching the sides of the cup. “I was only inquiring. She has not been to visit her aunt today.”

  “Perhaps she was in need of some quiet time.” Much like he was at the moment.

  “You do not need to be curt with me.” She placed the spoon down on the saucer to her cup none too softly. “I am still your mother and expect respect.” Avoiding eye contact, she pushed away from the table abandoning her tea, clearly angry with her son.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Nowhere that concerns you.” She tossed the words about, but still did not glance his way. He didn’t want to leave things as they were. He knew Mother would fester with feelings of hurtfulness and anger all day and then break down in tears. He did not want to be the one responsible for that…again.

  He stood and within two strides was at her side. “Mother, I’m sorry. I have much on my mind and—”

  “I have my own duties to see to.” She began to move past him. He suspected there was more to this conversation and he meant to get to the bottom of it.

  “Such as?”

  “Such as discovering where Clara and Patience have disappeared to.”

  Why did their conversation always seem to return to Miss Leybourne? Wasn’t it bad enough that she had invaded his home and his thoughts, challenged every word, and made him want to believe in hope?

  He looked down at his mother, about to say as much, when he noticed the genuine concern on her face. “Why are you so bothered about her?”

  Mother huffed out an indelicate humph. “It is not like her to miss a visit to her aunt in the morning.”

  “Perhaps she went for a walk with Clara.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Have you not noticed it has been raining for the past hour?”

  He was about to offer another explanation when Boris entered the room. “Pardon me, Your Grace. I have been informed by Miss Leybourne’s maid that Miss Winslow and Max are still abed in Miss Leybourne’s room.”

  Greystone turned to his mother. “You see, the mystery of Clara’s whereabouts is solved. She is with Miss Leybourne.”

  The butler cleared his voice. “Actually, Miss Leybourne has not been seen for a couple of hours. Her maid said she went for an early morning walk and has yet to return.”

  Greystone felt the life drain out of him. What if she was in danger? “Go and check on Clara, and I’ll search for Patience,” he barked out as he left the room. Icy cold fear shivered down his spine as he headed for the stables. He had to find her.

  “Did Miss Leybourne come this way?” he called to one of the stablemen.

  “I saw her walking toward the Grecian temple, but that was a couple of hours ago.”

  “Ready my horse.”

  After what felt like an hour later, he set off in the direction of the temple. What was Patience thinking, traversing the grounds on a day like this? Clearly, she was lacking common sense.

  That thought did not sit well with him. She had more common sense than the average person. As of late, she was probably in possession of more of it than he was. Damn, what was he going to do with her?

  He pondered this question as he rode away from the house. There was no sign of her anywhere. He called out her name several times but was only met with the pitter-patter of rain disturbing the otherwise peaceful countryside.

  Nearly a half an hour later, he was about to turn back and gather reinforcements when he spotted a shape approaching in the far distance. As the rider neared, he realized there wasn’t just one person on horseback, but two.

  He squinted at the pair, and they slowly came into focus.

  Patience and Kinsley. She was seated in front of him.

  The chill in his veins melted away as his blood began to boil, and another betrayal rang in his ears. A slur of accusations rested on his tongue as the pair approached.

  By the time they reached him, his hands were strangling the reins of his own mount, the whites of his knuckles straining against taut skin.

  “Where have you been?” he growled out to Patience, ignoring his one-time friend.

  “I…I went for a w…walk,” she began to chatter between shivers, “…and I g…got lost.”

  “It’s true—” Kinsley began before Greystone cut him off with a harsh glare. He was in no mood to listen to their lies.

  Patience quickly—too quickly in his opinion—came to Kinsley’s defense. “L…Lord Kinsley found me w…wandering by the stream.”

  “I’ll take Miss Leybourne back to the castle.” Without any further acknowledgement, Greystone pulled Patience off Kinsley’s lap and seated her in front of him, adjusted his coat around her, and then nudged Karl away from a stunned Kinsley.

  “Th…that was rude,” Patience ground out with a shiver.

  “We will discuss it later.”

  Except for the chatter of Patience’s teeth, the ride passed in silence. But inside, Greystone was fuming, his temper reaching epic proportions.

  No sooner had he brought Karl to a halt than Patience slid off the horse and was giving him a piece of her mind. “I cannot believe that you would treat Lord Kinsley in such a manner. He only offered his assistance, nothing more.”

  “Yes, I am very well aware of what kind of assistance the bastard is capable of offering.” He dismounted his horse and tossed the reins to the groom. He would have preferred to have this discussion inside, behind closed doors, but Patience was of a different opinion.

  She gave him a hostile stare as she spat out the words contemptuously, “What have I done to earn such distrust? I’m not Olive. I’ve never tried to deceive you.”

  “How do you know about her?” He stopped dead in his tracks.

  “Lord Kinsley.”

  “He had no right—”

  “He had every right since you won’t discuss a damn thing. Since you arrived, you have done nothing but confuse me. You tore down the Christmas decorations…twice, you implied that I was duke-hunting, that I somehow tricked your mother into inviting me, and then you kissed me. What do you want from me?”

  “I don’t know.” It was the grandest lie the century had ever heard, but he was not going to tell her the truth.

  “I see.” A strange calm entered her voice. “Thank you for sharing your mother and niece with me during Christmastide. I believe it best that I take my leave now.” She began to stroll away.

  “What is that supposed to mean?” he called after her.

  Patience did not turn back or acknowledge him in any way but kept walking straight toward the house.

  What had he done?

  He wanted to run away. Run from this place. Run from the memories. It was easier to run away than to deal with it all. But before he could move two feet, one of the house servants came tearing toward him.

  “Her Grace has requested your presence in her parlor.”

  This did not bode well f
or him.

  He entered his mother’s primrose-yellow parlor, the bright color a direct contrast to his soul, with his tail between his legs and braced himself for the lecture of a lifetime.

  “Sit.”

  He did as he was told, taking the seat across from her, without so much as a sigh. He was a duke, but first and foremost he was a son; her son.

  “I don’t understand you anymore, not since Arthur ran off.” It was the first time he’d heard his mother speak his brother’s name since the scandal. It sounded odd and reassuring all at once. “Every time you have happiness within your grasp, you throw it away.”

  He opened his mouth to argue, but knew his mother was correct. He felt guilty for what had happened to his brother, and for not making amends, for letting his temper get the better of him, and letting down both his parents.

  As if reading his thoughts, his mother responded, “Arthur made his choices. He chose to deceive you. He chose to run off with that woman. It was not, and is not, your fault.” They had never spoken about what happened, but somehow after all these years, his mother’s words were comforting.

  He took in a long breath and allowed images of himself and Arthur playing as children, creating mischief as teens, and reminisces about their talks about the future, to enter his thoughts. It was the first time in six years he’d allowed those kinds of recollections to enter his mind.

  The wall around his heart began to crumble. He missed his brother.

  “Did you love Olive, really love her?”

  He searched the darkest parts of his soul. The answer had always been there, but he’d been too wounded by deception to admit the truth. The answer was clear, simple.

  “No.”

  Mother stood and walked up to him. She grabbed his chin with warm, delicate fingers and turned his head toward her. “Now, what happened with Patience, that was your fault.”

  “Sh…she told you?”

  “No. I saw her enter the house from my window. She was crying.”

  The sting of her words careened through the rubble and went straight to his heart.

  “I am no expert, but I know love when I see it. You love her, and she loves you. She cares about Clara. Regardless of the past, that child is your responsibility now.” Her gaze was direct and unwavering. “Clara needs a mother and you need a wife.”

  “I made a mess of things,” Greystone confessed as he ran a shaky hand through his hair. Admitting his failings was hard to swallow.

  “I know, but there’s still time to remedy that.”

  Chapter 9

  Patience was thankful Greystone did not follow her inside. She didn’t know if she would unleash more anger and fury or collapse in tears. Desperate to avoid prying eyes, she kept her head low and scurried along the long corridor to the grand staircase.

  “Miss Leybourne?” Lord Kinsley’s voice halted her flight. She sucked in a deep, trembling breath before raising her eyes. His kind sincere gaze met hers. “Are you alright?”

  She shook her head. “I’m sorry at the way His Grace treated you.”

  “It’s not your fault. That’s what I came here to tell him.”

  “It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. It is quite clear he cannot let go of the past. And, I’m leaving.” Despite the confident tone she was trying to achieve, her heart constricted, begging her to reconsider.

  Lord Kinsley quickly interjected, “No, you shouldn’t leave. He hasn’t been the same—"

  Waving her hand, she halted his excuse. “Why do you defend him after his behavior toward you?”

  “Because I know what happened, and I see the way he looks at you. Ever since Lady Trumble’s ball, he’s been like a lovesick schoolboy. Just give him time.”

  Blinking away the tears stinging the corners of her eyes, she said, “I need to leave.”

  Much to his credit, Lord Kinsley did not try to sway her further. “Then allow me to offer my carriage.”

  “Thank you. I would like to depart as soon as possible.”

  Several hours later, Patience was ready. She could not wait to leave Castle Greystone. The last thing she wanted was to see him again. The memory of Greystone and those few perfect moments they’d shared together would, she hoped, fade into the recesses of her mind.

  Why couldn’t he understand that she did not care about titles and wealth, that she had no ulterior motives, that she just wanted him?

  But that would never be enough.

  She would not give into tears or hysterics.

  After scribbling a quick note to her aunt, Patience gathered her small traveling valise, slipped out of the elegant aubergine suite of rooms, and began the long trudge of out the castle.

  Save for the servants going about their daily routine, the house was quiet. She prayed her flight would go unnoticed. As she reached the Great Hall, she slowed her pace, practically tip-toeing, hoping to not make a sound.

  High-pitched yips echoed through the hall moments before she saw Max rushing across the black and white marble floor toward her. She quickly dropped her bag, brought the dog within her embrace, and began to pet him.

  “Shh, you don’t want to disturb the whole house.” The moment she stood, the dog began to whine. “Oh, very well, just one last belly rub,” she said as she bent down again. “I can’t stroke you all afternoon. I have to go.”

  Max flipped around and came to a sitting position. He tilted his head and stared at her. She could only imagine what the dog was thinking. He’d forget about her once the evening meal was served and Clara handed him treats under the table.

  She settled for one more pat on his head before grabbing her valise.

  “Going somewhere?” The deep timbre of Greystone’s voice reached all the way down to her toes.

  She let out a long sigh as she slowly turned around. She didn’t know what she was going to say, but whatever it was, she would say it quickly, then take her leave. But when she turned and met his deep green eyes, all words flew out of her mind.

  “Before you scold, reprimand, or otherwise put me in my place,” he paused as he strolled toward to her. “Allow me to apologize for all of my behavior. You were right about…everything.” He closed the final distance, standing mere inches from her. “I lost sight of what was most important.”

  She stared at him, wordlessly, her heart pounding as hope soared through her entire body.

  “You.”

  In one forward motion she was in his arms, his mouth caressing hers with sweet tenderness. It was divine ecstasy. All thoughts of leaving rushed from her mind, and besides, she truly did not want to leave. She suppressed her protest when his lips left hers.

  “I have a surprise for you.” He took her hand, tucking it within the fold of his arm and guided her toward the parlor.

  She didn’t know what to except, what with her mind being still clouded by his apology, followed by his kiss. But when she entered the parlor, the last thing she expected to see was the space completely decorated, transformed into the Christmas of her dreams.

  Tears pooled in the corner of her eyes.

  “Oh, my,” she whispered, barely keeping all her emotions at bay.

  “Do you like it?” There was a slight tinge of wonder in his voice.

  Looking up into his hopeful gaze, she said without hesitation, “It’s the most beautiful room I’ve ever seen.”

  Garlands of greenery intertwined with red and silver ribbon were draped across the mantle and wainscoting. Large shimmering bows adorned every nook, and fanciful streams of silver ribbon cascaded across and down the elegant side tables. Every corner of the room, every surface, was decorated.

  But when she looked up and saw dozens of boughs of mistletoe hanging from the ceiling beams, tied by delicate silver ribbon, her tears streamed down her cheeks. Greystone’s fingers tenderly wiped away the moisture, caressing her cheek, before shifting her chin to meet his gaze.

  “The only future I fear is one without you.” His lips brushed against hers as he spoke, sending del
icious tingles all over her body. “Please do me the honor and say you’ll be my Duchess.”

  My Duchess. It sounded so deliciously…perfect.

  She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with all the love she felt in her heart, savoring every moment. His hands trailed down her back, bringing her closer.

  “Yes,” she whispered against his lips. “Yes.”

  “May we come in now?” Clara’s sweet voice yelled from beyond the entry.

  Laughter rumbled in Greystone’s chest. “Yes.”

  The little girl came rushing in, with Max right beside her, followed by Clarice and Aunt Agnes. A moment later, Lord Kinsley strolled into the festive room, and sauntered straight over to Patience.

  “May I be the first to congratulate you on your engagement, Miss Leybourne,” he said with a sincere smile.

  Her look of astonishment must have shown on her face. Greystone explained, “Despite my earlier behavior, Kinsley took it upon himself to ensure I did not make another disastrous mistake.” He leaned in, brushed a kiss against her ear, then whispered, “He informed me I was being an unmitigated ass.”

  Laughter streamed from her mouth as utter joy bubbled from within. This was the happiest of Christmastides.

  Epilogue

  December 24, 1820

  Hazy sunlight drifted into the serene parlor creating an ethereal quality within the room. Greystone watched his beloved enjoying the splendor of a winter’s day from the warm comfort of the beautiful parlor, which she’d recently had redecorated in soft green and white, with accents of red. Patience said she chose the color scheme because it reminded her of Christmastide and when they fell in love.

  “And how are you today, my Duchess?” Greystone said as he strolled into the parlor.

  “Absolutely perfect.” Her smile brightened the room and warmed his heart.

  He brushed a kiss across her lips before inquiring, “Are you certain you’re up for this?”

  She reached for his hand, encouraging him to sit beside her. “I’ve never felt better.”

 

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