A Gypsy's Christmas Kiss

by Dawn Brower

  “I’d like to go at first light tomorrow.” Katherine couldn’t wait to meet the servants. If they loved her grandmother as she did they’d have much to discuss. “Is that too soon?”

  “Not at all,” he reassured her. “I’ll have a carriage readied. Do you require a chaperone or are you taking your maid with you.”

  Betty would love to accompany her. She was the only servant in her father’s household solely loyal to Katherine. “My maid will be with me.” They exited his office and Mr. Adamson retrieved her cloak, then assisted her with it.

  “Very well then.” He smiled down at her. Where he’d seemed cold to her before he now seemed—almost fatherly, or at least how she imagined a father should be. “Don’t forget to let me know if you require anything of me. Safe travels on your journey. I believe you will be pleasantly surprised by the farm. It’s a wonderful place. I’ve visited there often on business for your grandmother.”

  She’d already thanked him, but it didn’t seem like enough. He’d changed her life in the span of less than an hour. Yes, it really was her grandmother that had made her life more bearable, but Mr. Adamson was bearer of that bright news. “I’m sure I’ll be fine; however, if something does arise I’ll be sure to inform you. Have a good day.” Katherine nodded to him and then exited the solicitor’s office. For the first time in weeks she walked home with a smile, and not once, even in thought, did she grumble about the cold.

  Excerpt: Rebellious Angel

  Christmas Wishes 6

  Dawn Brower

  * * *

  Chapter 1

  September 1906

  The heat wave that rocked through the country had become unbearable. For Miss Angeline Marsden it heightened her anxiety levels. She had plans her parents wouldn’t appreciate, but they would, in fact, give her hell about them. A girl had to stick to her beliefs, and Angeline had many. Some battles had to be fought the hard way, and others required a little more deviousness to come out the victor. Her parent’s dislike of her cause required the latter.

  If she had any chance of participating in the upcoming parade, she’d need help from someone close to her. More specifically, her best friend, Lady Emilia St. John, and Angeline prayed she’d assist her. Otherwise, she didn’t know how she’d manage to fool her parents. It had to work. This meant a lot to her, and she’d do just about anything to ensure it went her way.

  Angeline rushed down the street toward the Huntly townhouse. Emilia was expecting her for afternoon tea. Hopefully Emilia’s mother, the Duchess of Huntly, wouldn’t be in residence. It might prove to be difficult to gain Emilia’s assistance if they had to discuss it in whispers behind their silk fans. When she reached the door, she rapped on the knocker twice. A man with dark hair graying at the sides, opened it and greeted her, “Good day, Miss Angeline.”

  “Hello, Simmons.” She nodded toward the aging butler. “Is Emilia in the sitting room?”

  “Indeed, she is,” he confirmed. “Her grace is as well.”

  Drat. She had hoped Emilia’s mother would be out making calls instead. Normally, she’d love to visit with them both. She considered the duchess family of sorts. Her parents were close to Emilia’s, and they’d grown up together. There were not many family gatherings that didn’t include the Marsdens and the St. Johns. Unfortunately, though, her honorary Aunt Rubina wouldn’t be any happier with Angeline’s plans than her parents were. Somehow, she’d find a work-around. “Thanks, Simmons.” She nodded at him. “I can find my own way there.”

  She didn’t wait for the butler to respond. Huntly Manor had been a second home to her. Angeline was as acquainted with it as she was with the Marsden family estate. She went down the hallway and took a sharp right to enter the sitting room. It had been redecorated in dark blues and gold. The duchess had wanted a change, and the new color scheme gave the room a more elegant ambiance. A tea cart had already been delivered, and several cakes were displayed on a nearby table.

  “Good afternoon,” she greeted them.

  The duchess wore a dark green walking dress decorated with gold buttons up the front. Her kid skin gloves matched it to perfection. She must have decided a hat was too much and had left her blonde hair unadorned. “Angeline,” she said cheerfully. “It’s so good of you to join us.”

  She smiled at the duchess. “It’s been too long since we’ve seen each other.” She leaned down and kissed her cheek. “How have you been?”

  The duchess waved her hand. “You don’t want to hear about our trip to the country. Noah had some estate business to handle, and I admit it was nice to rusticate at Huntly Castle. It’s drafty and cooler then it is here. Can you believe this heat?”

  Emilia rolled her eyes while her mother wasn’t looking. The duchess would have chastised her for the unladylike behavior. Angeline repressed a laugh so she wouldn’t get her friend in trouble. Emilia was a younger version of the duchess, down to the silver-gray eyes. She had even donned a similar shade of green as her mother—at times it could be disconcerting how alike they were. “Come sit.” Emilia patted the cushion next to her. “Tell me what you’re scheming these days.”

  Angeline stuck her tongue out. “I’m doing no such thing.” Her friend knew her too well. There had to be a way to distract the duchess so she could find some time alone with Emilia. If she couldn’t gain her assistance, her plan would be doomed. “I merely wished to visit my closest friend.”

  “That’s lovely of you,” the duchess said earnestly. “How are your mother and father?”

  Hell bent on ruining my life… All right, the duchess wouldn’t want to hear that from her—even if it was true. “They’re both wonderful. Father was discussing the possibility of returning to the country estate. London really has become unbearable this past month. The heat is torturous.” To prove that point, she flipped open her silk fan and started to wave it over her face.

  “It’s been a hard year for your family.” Her voice held a hint of sadness to it. “With your grandfather…”

  Angeline almost finished that sentence for her, but instead swallowed the lump in her throat. Her grandfather had passed away suddenly a year ago. Something that had hit her father hard—no one had ever expected the old man to die. Somehow, he had seemed so infallible. With her grandfather’s unexpected passing, Angeline’s father had become the next Viscount Torrington. A title he’d have gladly waited forever to claim if it had kept his father alive longer.

  It was no secret that the former viscount had lived the life of a pirate before he’d married Angeline’s grandmother. That had given him a dangerous aura that made any suitor interested in Angeline shake in fear. It didn’t help that her own father could make a man freeze in place with one glance. Between the two men, she’d failed in securing a husband after several seasons. It was a good thing she didn’t actually want a husband.

  Well, that wasn’t true either.

  There was one man she wanted to marry, and unfortunately, he never paid any attention to her. But that was a problem she’d consider much later—maybe never. She would not let those old wounds dictate every decision she made. There were more pressing matters she had to focus on. Winning the heart of a clueless man was the least of her worries. “Grandfather will be missed,” she reassured the duchess. “He’ll never be forgotten. Thor was a stubborn, arrogant bastard, but we loved him—probably a little for those traits alone.”

  “That he did,” a male said as he walked into the room.

  Angeline’s heart thumped inside her chest. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the rapid thrusts of the traitorous organ. All he had to do was say one word and she wanted him. It had always been that way, and no matter what she did, it didn’t change. Lucian St. John, the Marquess of Severn and heir to the Huntly dukedom and not to mention, he was also her closest friends’ older brother and the one man she loved beyond reason.

  His dark hair and chiseled cheekbones gave him a sinfully gorgeous face, but his silver eyes spoke of a devilishnes
s she could only guess at. He had always been a perfect gentleman with her, but she knew he had a wicked side. Not personally… No, she’d never been so lucky as to taste passion of any sort. Rumors spread in abundance of how roguish he was, and she’d always been green with envy. She wanted him to look at her and desire her the same way she’d always longed for him.

  “Hello, Mother,” he said and leaned down to kiss the duchess’s cheek. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

  “Not at all dear,” the duchess replied. “Are you here to join us for tea?”

  “I wish I could,” he replied smoothly. “I’m here to see Father, but I wanted to come say hello before we secluded ourselves in his office.”

  “Estate business?” His mother lifted questioning brow. “Never mind. I’m sure he’ll tell me later. Are you sure you can’t visit with us a little longer?”

  As much as Angeline loved studying the man who held her heart without him noticing, she had other things on her mind. If Lucian stayed, that would make her goal even more difficult to achieve. Besides, it was slowly killing her to be around him. Nothing brought out the doldrums quite like his continued oblivion. She might as well be invisible when Lucian was around. He didn’t bother to greet her unless good manners dictated he acknowledge her presence. Even now, he didn’t turn his head and say the simplest of hellos to her or Emilia. He kept his attention focused on his mother.

  “I must decline.” His voice even appeared to hold a tinge of disappointment. Angeline doubted Lucian held an ounce of regret inside of him. Sure, he loved his mother, but he’d been decreed the wickedest of rogues. He probably would rather spend time in the company of a more delectable sort of female. Lucian was nothing if not smooth. “Perhaps we can have a family dinner later this week.” Angeline swallowed the distaste in her mouth. Why had she gone and fallen in love with him? He’d never love her in return…

  The duchess smiled, happiness radiating from her. “What a lovely idea.” She turned to Emilia. “You can help me plan it, dear.” Then she glanced back at Lucian. “We’ll send a note to your townhouse when we decide upon a date. Go meet with your father. You know how he hates to be kept waiting.”

  “You’re right,” Lucian agreed. “Enjoy your tea.” With those words, he left them alone in the sitting room.

  Angeline couldn’t help staring at him as he exited. Her gaze seemed to naturally follow after him whenever he was in the immediate vicinity. Would she ever put her feelings for him behind her? She held back a sigh. It wouldn’t help further her cause—any of them.

  “Emilia,” Angeline turned toward her. “It’s such a lovely day. Do you care to go for a stroll with me?”

  “Have you gone mad?” Emilia crinkled her eyebrows together. “It’s as hot as the dickens outside.” She flipped open her silk fan and waved it furiously over her flushed face. “I’d rather not exert myself any more than necessary.”

  This time Angeline did sigh. Emilia had a valid point, but she was running out of options. She wanted her help, so she’d have to figure out another way of discussing her problem with Emilia privately. “I’m…restless. I thought walking would help.”

  “Didn’t you walk here, dear?” the duchess asked, her tone held a hint of skepticism to it. “I’d have thought that was more than enough exercise.”

  Her home wasn’t far from Huntly Manor, so she didn’t see any reason to have a carriage hitched for the short distance—even on a sweltering day. “If Emilia doesn’t want to join me, that’s her decision.” Angeline had to hold back from reaching over and shaking her friend. She’d have to wait until the Wharton dinner later to find some alone time with her. “Perhaps I should skip tea and make my way home.”

  Her afternoon call hadn’t gone as planned. She’d also had to suffer through time spent in Lucian’s company—not that he’d acknowledged her. Maybe that was part of her problem. She’d longed for him since she was ten and two. Nine years later and her heart still skipped a beat whenever he neared.

  “I didn’t mean to imply you’re not welcome,” the duchess said. “Please don’t feel as if you have to leave.”

  Angeline stood and went to the duchess to pull her into a hug. “You’re gracious as always Aunt Ruby—it is as I said. I’m restless.” She didn’t want to make the duchess feel that she’d done anything wrong. It couldn’t be further from the truth. If anyone could be held accountable for her agitation, it would be Lucian. She’d been on edge before she arrived at Huntly Manor, but his proximity made it even worse. Angeline stepped back. “Don’t worry everything is fine, and I’ll see you tonight at the Wharton dinner.”

  Emilia stood and wound her arm with Angeline’s. “I’ll see you out if you’re so insistent on leaving before you’ve had any tea.”

  She scrunched up her nose. “It is hot out, and while I am parched, tea seems—too much right now.” Truthfully, she’d lost her appetite—if she ever had one—the moment Lucian had stepped into the sitting room.

  “It’s never too hot for tea,” Emilia replied. “Perhaps there’s something else bothering you?” The corner of her mouth tilted upward into a sly smile. Her friend knew her to well…

  They exited the room and walked down the hall leading to the foyer. Angeline didn’t bother to comment on Emilia’s not-so-subtle hint at Lucian’s presence interrupting tea. “We’ll have to talk more later. There’s something I want to discuss with you.”

  “About Lucian?”

  Angeline rolled her eyes. “Of course not. He’s…” Drat. In a perfect world, he’d be her everything. Too bad Lucian would never reciprocate. “As much as I long for him to love me, he never will. You more than anyone know that. This is something more important.”

  “My brother is a fool,” Emilia said and placed her hand on Angeline’s. “We will talk more at the dinner. I’ll help you with anything.”

  Emilia had always been there for her. Hopefully she was still willing to help once she realized what Angeline needed. She hugged her friend and left the manor. She had a lot to consider before the dinner later that night. Lucian could go to hell. He was probably the ruler of that fiery pit and the reason they were inundated with the unseasonably warm weather.

  All right, he wasn’t that bad… She wished he loved her though. However, no amount of hoping for the impossible would make it true.

  Excerpt: Stealing A Rogue’s Kiss

  Amanda Mariel

  Chapter 1

  London, England

  * * *

  One, two, three, four…Lady Daphne Rosamond counted her steps as she paced the length of the lady's retiring room at the Hawthorn ball. She should be in the ballroom. Gentlemen should be paying her attention. She should be dancing and flirting. Three seasons, for three long tedious seasons Daphne had sat on the sidelines hoping and praying that some worthy gentleman would take notice.

  “There you are. I’ve been searching for you.” Daphne’s cousin, Lady Natalie St. Vela strolled into the room with Miss Lulia Vasile at her side. Natalie paused, drawing her brows together as she studied Daphne. “Is something the matter?”

  “No…yes…I don’t know,” Daphne stuttered, attempting to collect her thoughts.

  Natalie narrowed her gaze.

  Daphne’s cheeks warmed under her cousin’s scrutiny. “I’ve grown weary of sitting on the sidelines. Perhaps it is time I accept my fate and give in to being an old maid.”

  Lulia drew closer, her violet eyes skeptical. “How do you know such a fate awaits you?”

  Daphne waved her hands over her body. “Look at me. I’m plump and shy; not at all the type of woman that gentlemen take notice of. In my three seasons, I’ve only danced a handful of times. No-one has ever come to call, let alone court me.”

  “Oh Daphne,” Natalie rested a hand on her shoulder, “you are lovely. Any gentleman would be lucky to have you. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

  Daphne closed her eyes fighting back tears. How she wished Natalie’s words were true, but they unequivocally we
re not. Daphne possessed and a kind and reserved nature, but she lacked all of the other qualities a man looked for in a wife. She’d never be an English beauty, nor would she ever be comfortable in a crowded room. She shook her head. “You’re wrong.”

  "Take off your glove." Lulia notched her chin. "Let me have a look at your palm."

  Daphne swallowed as she stared at the woman, confusion muddling her thoughts. “My glove?”

  Lulia nodded, her raven curls bouncing. “Yes, your glove.”

  Natalie reached for Daphne’s hand then began unbuttoning the white satin glove that covered it. “Lulia reads palms. Let her have a look and she will tell you what your future holds.”

  Daphne jerked back her hand, her gaze flittering from one woman to the next. She did not believe in such nonsense. Fortunetellers were nothing more than frauds—that’s what mama had always told her.

  “What have you got to lose?” Natalie reached for her hand again.

  Daphne interlocked her finger’s stopping the assault. “Mama says—”

  “Blah, blah,” Natalie interrupted. “Stop stalling and remove your glove.”

  Lulia smiled, her eyes sparkling. “Your mama says that fortune tellers are frauds. She’s right you know.”

  Daphne stared at her in shock. How could she admit to such at the very same time she was attempting to read Daphne’s future?

  “Most of them are, but a well-trained gypsy hones her craft. I spent years working on mine.” Lulia flipped her hand over and began tracing the lines of her palm. “This one is my lifeline. This is my love line. Our hands reveal much about our fates.”