Page 6 of A Hellion's Christmas Kiss
“Perhaps I will, in time,” Lucian conceded. The game had lost its appeal, and he saw little point in continuing. “Shall we call this a draw?”
Asher surveyed the table, then nodded. “It seems fair. We should rejoin the ladies. Perhaps our fathers have concluded whatever mysterious business delayed them.”
Lucian replaced his cue on the rack and turned back to Asher. “Do you have any idea what they’re up to?”
“Not the faintest,” Asher replied. “But you know how they are. It’s bound to be some grand scheme that will surprise us.”
“Likely something Christmastide-related,” Lucian agreed. “But I cannot begin to guess what.”
“Let’s join the ladies, then.”
“But what if we wish to join you?” Noelle’s voice rang out as she strolled into the room, Rosella at her side.
Lucian’s gaze immediately landed on Rosella, and his heart quickened. She was a vision in blue, her gown perfectly complementing her luminous eyes. If they were alone, he might have told her how utterly beautiful she looked—and perhaps stolen a kiss. The mere thought of holding her in his arms, tasting her lips, sent a desperate longing coursing through him. If she had any inkling of how much he desired her, it would likely shock her.
“Hello, darling,” Asher greeted his wife. “Are we late? Have the dukes returned?”
“Not at all,” Noelle replied. “But I missed you. Also, the duchesses are growing restless. We should likely begin the meal.”
Asher nodded. “We were just finishing. I’ll let the staff know to serve, and then we can escort everyone to the dining room.”
“Perfect,” Noelle said, turning her gaze to Lucian. “You look distracted. Is something bothering you? Or do you object to beginning dinner without the dukes?”
Lucian had been so focused on Rosella that he barely registered Noelle’s question. Dinner, the dukes—it all seemed inconsequential compared to the woman standing before him. “Nothing is bothering me, dear sister,” he replied smoothly, though inwardly he seethed at Rosella’s apparent indifference. Had she even glanced in his direction? How was he supposed to win her heart if she barely noticed him? “Let’s eat. I’m certain our mothers are impatiently awaiting us.”
The group left the game room and headed toward the sitting room. Lucian watched Rosella from the corner of his eye, his mind racing. He needed a plan—something to shift her feelings toward him. For years, all he had seemed to inspire in her was irritation, but now he wanted something far more profound. He wanted her love, and he was determined to find a way to earn it. If only he knew where to begin…
Three
Rosella strolled into the sitting room and frowned. Every inch of the room was covered in greenery, and in the middle of it all stood her father, the Duke of Clare, along with the Duke of Kissinger. They were surveying the accumulation as if trying to decide how to divide the spoils. It was most disconcerting to witness, and she did not know what to make of it at all.
“Father,” she began, “what in heaven is all of this?”
Slowly, he turned to face her. When he met her gaze, she saw that his eyes were filled with excitement. “We are going to create our own Christmastide decorations,” he explained.
Rosella frowned. “Is this what the two of you were concocting last evening while we were awaiting dinner?”
The Duke of Kissinger grinned. He was a handsome man well into his prime, with dark hair and eyes an arresting shade of blue. She could easily see where Lucian had inherited his striking appearance. Lucian would likely age as gracefully as his father and, no doubt, become even more handsome as the years passed. Though, perhaps, she was biased… “The servants did assist us,” Kissinger explained. “Once everyone has arrived, we will explain everything.”
She had not known why she had been summoned to the sitting room, but this now made much more sense. They had never done anything like this before, and it would be a delightful change to their tradition. Though all the holly and pine branches were a bit excessive. She narrowed her gaze… was that mistletoe? What were the dukes thinking, bringing that into their decorating scheme? Did they hope to catch their wives under the greenery? Perhaps it was as innocent as that… After all, everyone in attendance had a spouse except her and Lucian. And if they were trying their hand at some misguided matchmaking—well, she supposed she could actually accept that. She did wish to increase Lucian’s attentions and could use all the assistance she could get in achieving that goal.
“What inspired you to do this?” she asked.
It was a splendid idea, and she wondered why they had not considered it sooner. It would give her ample opportunity to spend time with Lucian. Perhaps, in some small way, it might even open up the possibility of something more with him. As for the mistletoe… she was not above using that to her advantage. She had often wondered what it might feel like to be kissed—particularly by Lucian.
Her father, the Duke of Clare, shrugged. “It seemed like a way for us to come together and create some memories.”
“It is indeed,” she told him, smiling warmly. Then she narrowed her gaze. “It was something Mother said, wasn’t it?”
“Perhaps,” her father replied, adopting an innocent expression. He always tried to feign ignorance when it came to her mother’s peculiar insights, but they all knew that Lulia, the Duchess of Clare—a gypsy princess in another life—often had premonitions they took seriously. “It’s not for me to say.”
Which meant her mother had sworn him to secrecy. Well, wasn’t that interesting. There was only one reason her mother would keep such things to herself: she hoped for a particular outcome and feared tipping off her intended target—if that was the right term—might ensure the opposite result. Rosella could only assume this somehow concerned her. Asher was already happily married, leaving Lulia with only one child to match. She should be vexed at her mother’s machinations, but she could not dismiss the potential benefit. This could be exactly what she needed to win Lucian’s heart. “I’ll allow you to keep your secrets, Father,” she said magnanimously. “I have no real interest in discovering the depths of this scheme.”
At that moment, Noelle and the two duchesses strolled into the room. The Duchess of Kissinger paused and stared at the greenery overtaking the sitting room. “Oh, my, this is…”
“A bit much,” Rosella offered when the duchess seemed at a loss for words.
“It is,” the duchess agreed, then turned her attention to her husband. “What is the meaning of all this?”
