Page 38 of Lady in Ruby
“Well, that’s not the only reason I haven’t wanted to marry,” she protested. “I’ve never found a suitor who I felt really wanted me.”
“You have now,” Snowdon said, his expression making her heart race. “Caroline, it might be too early to say that I love you, but I know that I do love you. I don’t need more time. But I am very willing to wait until you decide you love me. I think that would be the best reason to ask you to marry me…and not a moment earlier.”
“I might not need that long to know, my lord,” she whispered, overthrown. “Oh, no, I’m still calling you that!”
He laughed softly, tilting his head back against the wall. “Nicholas. My family calls me Nick.”
“Nick,” she said softly. “I must tell you that after considering all the requirements I have set for my ideal man…you fulfill every one. I wonder if I could persuade you to continue to court me for a little while, even without the added incentive of saving the realm from enemy spies.”
“I will be at your doorstep every day.”
“Hmm. I think I shall have to test that. You probably have a lot of secret missions that will keep you from visiting me regularly, and then you’ll meet a ravishing foreign agent or get kidnapped or have to go into hiding as a traveling player. Or whatever it is you do for your secret organization.”
“All of those sound less appealing than taking a walk through the woods with you. In fact, would you like to build a snowman?”
“In a moment, Mr Snowdon—”
“Nick.”
“Nick. There is one more thing I must say.”
“What is that?”
She glanced up. “Once again, we are standing under a bunch of mistletoe.”
He followed her gaze. “Ah. Then we’ve no choice but to follow tradition. I’d hate to anger the spirits by ignoring such a sacred ritual.”
The kiss they shared quickly became many kisses, and absolutely no one could accuse them of ignoring the mistletoe.
Being otherwise occupied, neither noticed a door close softly.
* * * *
“Yes, ma’am,” the maid Maggie whispered to Aunt Juniper, who was sitting in the next room. Mittens was on her lap, looking highly pleased with himself. “They’re kissing, just as you hoped.” She poured out some port into a tiny crystal glass and placed it on the table next to Juniper.
“Excellent,” the old lady said, her face wrinkling into a smile. “Mittens, we’ve managed the thing after all.”
The cat meowed in evident agreement.
“The good news is that no one has to go out and gather more of that stuff from the woods,” Aunt Juniper went on. “I dare say you and the other servants are sick of hanging it everywhere every day.”
“We shall be glad when it’s the New Year,” Maggie allowed. At Juniper’s nod, she poured a small glass for herself—an acknowledgment that today was a holiday, with the usual rules put aside.
“Well, it was worth it,” Juniper went on. “If I hadn’t taken a hand, who knows what would have happened? Probably nothing. Young people today don’t have any sense. They’ll look back and think it a Christmas miracle. But it was really me. And you, with the mistletoe.”
“Yes, ma’am. Happy Christmas, ma’am.”
“Happy Christmas to you, Maggie.”
The two of them raised their glasses of ruby-red port to each other, and drank to a job well done.
The End
