Page 27 of Moaning Under the Mistletoe
“If you marry Mary, not only will you save her, but you’ll be protecting us.” Oscar finally worked it out. There wouldn’t be sideway glances because people wouldn’t look past the obvious.
“Yes. I hope you understand that I only want you.”
Oscar kissed Ambrose again. “Please forgive my earlier jealousy. I was annoyed that I’d given up my casual new life for you and I, wrongly, thought you hadn’t. I thought you were stringing me along and lying to me and I was angry at being fooled by you.”
“Never.”
“I understand now.”
“You were right to be mad at me. I should’ve explained better. That night I’d been rejected, and I was hurt and you offered me relief.”
Oscar laughed. “Is that what you call it?”
“Oscar, you were so damned perfect. It might have started out as a way to make me feel better after Lady Lavinia rejected me for some short bald railway man, but it isn’t like that now.”
He knew, but it was nice to hear it. “And now I love you. Come on, let’s go negotiate with your sister about the next part of our life.”
Ambrose’s sigh was audible. “I’m going to need your help to negotiate with my sister.”
“If she is anything like you, then this is going to be very entertaining.”
“For you, perhaps.” Ambrose grumbled and Oscar laughed.
“Come on, my love. Everyone knows you are stern on the outside and soft for your family.”
Ambrose scoffed, then smiled indulgently. “Don’t tell anyone.”
“Let’s get this done, then we can go home to bed.”
“Now there’s a real incentive.” Ambrose threw open the cupboard door, and light poured in.
“Look.”
“I am.” Ambrose’s gaze raked over Oscar as he stood there with his softening prick hanging out of his trousers.
“Not at me. Look up. This is the cupboard where we’ve been drying the mistletoe for the Christmas extravaganza.” He took the moment to fix his clothing.
“Why didn’t I notice?”
“Mistletoe doesn’t have a scent. If anything you might have noticed that it smelled slightly woody in here, but probably not over the dust and cleaning paraphernalia.”
Ambrose kissed him again. “I’ll hang some in my bedroom and then you can moan for me underneath it on Christmas morning.”
“I like that idea.” Oscar’s life had taken him on an unplanned pathway in the last month, and the future was going to be even better.
