“Your Graces.” Mr. Gundy stepped forward and nodded to Sebastian and then to his mother. “Happy Twelfth Night to you an’ yours.”
Sebastian’s brows snapped together as he began to say something, only for his mother to lay her hand on his arm and interrupt, “Thank you,” she answered softly, although uncertainty sounded in her voice. “And to all of you, as well. May I ask...what are you celebrating?”
“The holiday, Your Grace.” Mr. Grundy politely removed his hat. “Just like we used to.”
“Whose idea was this?” Sebastian demanded.
“All of ours, sir.”
The duke’s eyes slid knowingly to Miranda. Oh, she wanted to die! “All of yours?”
“Aye, sir,” he answered, not giving her up.
Miranda could have happily kissed the weathered old handyman for that!
“Your father was a good man, sir, a kind man,” Mr. Grundy continued. “He always said that a man should work hard when work is needin’ to be done an’ to enjoy himself just as hard when the work be done.”
Elizabeth Carlisle nodded. In the light of the bonfire, Miranda could see the tears glistening in her eyes at the mention of the late duke, just as she could see the stiffening in Sebastian as he stood beside her.
“Yes.” The duchess smiled sadly, and a melancholy but affectionate expression lit her face. “My Richard always did say that.” She squeezed Sebastian’s arm, then said in a louder, more clear voice, “And he would be so happy to know that you are all doing just that. He loved you all so very much.”
“And we him, my lady,” Mr. Grundy reassured her quietly. “May we continue on tonight in his memory?”
The man’s quiet words choked her visibly with emotion. All she could do was nod and smile, unable to speak.
As if sensing that the moment had come for him to carry on the traditions in his father’s footsteps, Sebastian grabbed a mug of wassail from the nearby table and raised it into the air.
“To Islingham Village and all the good men and women who live there,” he toasted. “A happy Twelfth Night and Epiphany to all of you. And may the oncoming year bring happiness, prosperity, and peace.” His gaze settled on Miranda, and her chest warmed happily for him and his family, that tonight they could finally begin to emerge from their mourning and move on with their lives the way Richard Carlisle would have wanted for them. “To you and the ones you love.”
“Hear, hear!” Cheers went up from the crowd, and as Sebastian lowered the tankard to take a swallow of the wassail, the musicians struck up their instruments again, followed by singing and dancing and playing of games, until the entire village was once more caught up in the revelries.
Soft snowflakes began to fall from the dark winter sky overhead. By morning, the countryside would be covered in a thin blanket of snow, but tonight, no one cared. All that mattered was being together with the ones they loved on this most traditional, most special night of the year.
From behind her, an arm reached around her to hold out one of the little cakes. “For you.”
Miranda smiled and accepted it. “Thank you, Sebastian."
She turned to face him and froze in her steps, the expression of gratitude and relief on his handsome face stealing her breath away. His blue eyes shined as dark as midnight.
“Thank you, Miranda,” he murmured, the soft sound of his deep voice twining down her spine. Then he lifted his gaze to look past her at his mother as she joined in with the group of women singing carols around the wassail pot. “For everything.”
“For once, this wasn’t my doing,” she admitted a bit sheepishly as she broke the cake in two and took a bite. “I had no control—oh!”
She laughed as she found the hard pea baked into her cake. Apparently, the villagers had remembered every Twelfth Night tradition, right down to this one. The man and woman who found the bean and pea were declared the king and queen of the night’s festival and expected to kiss, to bring in the near year with love and luck. She held up the pea, and a cheer went out from the crowd. One of the women rushed forward to place a crown of ivy on her head.
“And what man has its mate?” Elizabeth Carlisle called out, a look of happiness on her face brighter than Miranda had seen in nearly two years.
When none of the gentleman came forward with the bean to claim his kiss from Miranda, the villagers returned to their party and carried on, certain that one of the men would find the lucky bean in his cake before the night ended and claim his crown and his kiss.
She turned back to Sebastian, whose lips twisted as his eyes found hers. He said nothing, but the gleam in his eyes gave him away.
“It’s you, isn’t it?” she whispered, staring up at him and feeling her heart inexplicably start to pound. “You found the bean—you’re the king for the night. Aren’t you going to tell them?”
He shook his head and gave a long sigh. “Being a duke is hard enough. Who in his right mind would ever want to be king?” Then he leaned forward and placed a kiss on her cheek, slipping the bean into her hand without anyone seeing. “Happy Twelfth Night, Miranda.”
As she watched him walk away, she placed her hand against her cheek where he’d kissed her. “Happy Twelfth Night to you, too, Sebastian,” she whispered. She closed her other hand around the bean and pressed her fist against her heart. “And may you find love in the new year.”
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This Twelfth Night encounter is only the first of many between Mariah and Sebastian. They find their own love story in IF THE DUKE DEMANDS, Book 1 of the award-winning Capturing the Carlisles series.
A LESSON IN SEDUCTION . . .
Miranda Hodgkins has only ever wanted one thing: to marry Robert Carlisle. And she simply can’t wait a moment longer. During the Carlisle family masquerade ball, Miranda boldly sneaks into his bedchamber with seduction on her mind. Soon she’s swept into rock hard arms for the most breathtaking kiss of her life. But when the masks come off, she’s horrified to find herself face-to-face with Sebastian, the Duke of Trent—Robert’s formidable older brother.
Shocked to find Miranda in his bed, Sebastian quickly offers her a deal to avoid scandal: he’ll help her win his brother’s heart if she’ll find him the perfect wife. But what begins as a simple negotiation soon spirals out of control. For the longer this reformed rake tries to make a match for Miranda, the more he wants to keep her all to himself.
To keep reading Miranda & Sebastian’s story,
click here.
About the Author
To learn more about Anna Harrington and her romances, visit her webpage at
https://www.annaharringtonbooks.com
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If a Lady Lingers Page 14
