Page 141 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
“Sorry tointerrupt,” she said, and her inflection on the final word said that we were not at all discreet.
Which wasn’t my fault.
I wasn’t the one sitting with a cushion over my erection like a troubled teenage boy in his girlfriend’s bedroom for the first time.
Emily sent a pointed look towards the cushion on Thomas’ lap.
See?
Not me.
“You should run a brush through your hair, dear,” she said to me.
Okay.
It was a little me. But that was his fault to begin with, so was it really on me? I didn’t think so.
I coughed a little to clear my throat and ran my fingers through my hair again. Hopefully this time, I’d be more successful in smoothing it down.
“Your mother just called me,” Emily said. “I told her I insisted that you stay with us tonight given today’s events. She didn’t seem too happy—apparently, Hazel has spent most of the day in tears after you yelled at her.”
I blinked flatly. “Of course, she has.”
Her lips twitched the tiniest amount. “Yes, well, it seems she was hoping you would come and make things right.”
I buried my face in my hands. “I’m so sorry you have to deal with this. I’ll go and—”
“I told her that in my not-so-humble and unrequested opinion that the only one here who needs to make things right is Hazel. I also heard your grandmother going off on one in the background, so I don’t think I’m the only one thinking that way.”
Well, Nana was a firecracker at the best of times.
“So don’t even think about leaving,” Emily said, her sharp look adding an extra layer of ‘do as you’re told’ to her tone. “You have nothing to make right. The only thing you could possibly apologise for is for shouting at her, but even then, I don’t think you’re sorry at all.”
I pressed my lips together.
Well.
Maybe I was a little bit. I didn’t like upsetting Hazel. She was my sister.
“And I’m saying this as someone who always apologised just to keep the peace,” Emily continued, her gaze still fixed on me. The softness of it spread a warm, motherly warmth through me, a sensation I was so unused to feeling. “But I raised my children to only apologise if they were truly sorry. A worthless apology is worth far less than no apology at all.”
“In other words,” Thomas said, resting his elbow on the arm of the sofa and settling his chin into his hand. “Don’t sneak off somewhere with your phone and send Hazel a half-arsed apology just to get everyone off your back. You have enough to do without sweeping her bullshit under the rug yet again.”
I was about to open my mouth and argue that I would never do that but rapidly changed my mind.
Yeah.
That sounded exactly like something I would do.
Emily smiled softly at me. “If you want to stay here for the next few days, you know you’re more than welcome to, darling. Your grandmother already shouted that she’d pack you a bag, and I can pick it up tomorrow.”
My heart squeezed. “No, I—thank you, but I can’t impose on you like that.”
“It’s not an imposition.” Thomas’ words were quiet but firm, and the certainty with which he spoke sent a shiver downmy spine. “You’re many things, Sylvie, but an imposition is never one of them.”
I met his gaze, and in that moment, whatever swirling feelings I had for the man bubbled up and erupted, flooding my body with a warmth I knew I could never feel again.
And I knew.
