Free A Regency Christmas Pact Collection by Ava Stone, Catherine Gayle, Jerrica Knight-Catania, Julie Johnstone, Jane Charles, Aileen Fish Page B

feminine laughter halted Berks’s step, and he glanced towards the white parlor. She was in there. Miss Birkin. The warm, rich, inviting sound of her laughter washed over him, and he had the overwhelming desire to stride straight into the room just to see her, just as he’d wanted to do each and every day for the last sennight. Foolishly, he’d find himself hovering right outside whatever room she inhabited, wishing he’d hadn’t bungled things as badly as he had. But he’d honored her wishes and had successfully kept his distance from her. But now… Well, she sounded so cheerful and…
    “Is there a reason you’re blocking the corridor?” Harry asked from behind him.
    Berks glanced over his shoulder to find his brother wearing an old brown jacket and a smug expression. Good God, where the devil had he found that nearly threadbare jacket? The donation heap? Berks frowned at Harry. “Have your clothes been misplaced?”
    Harry looked down at his jacket and shrugged. “It’s comfortable.”
    “It’s ugly.”
    “I had no idea you were such a slave to fashion.”
    Berks lifted his brow. “You just usually look more put together, that’s all.”
    His brother chuckled. “Usually I’m not trapped inside Wellesbourne Park for days at a time. If I’m to be stuck here indefinitely, I’m going to be comfortable.”
    “Heaven forbid I keep you from being comfortable.”
    Harry agreed with an incline of his head. “How very kind of you. Now if you don’t mind, I’d like a kiss from my wife, and you are blocking the corridor.”
    Berks couldn’t help but laugh. Harry had been quite the nuisance with his bit of mistletoe over the last sennight. “More coercion?”
    “I prefer to think of it as a diversion.” Harry then grinned rakishly, lightly shoved Berks’s shoulder to get past him and said under his breath, “Watch and learn, brother mine.”
    Berks resisted the urge to snort. There was nothing to learn. He’d been watching Harry bait Miranda with that sprig of mistletoe for days now. Still… Miss Birkin was in the white parlor, and she had sounded so cheerful just a few moments ago. It wouldn’t really hurt to catch a glimpse of her, would it?
    Before he could change his mind, he followed his brother’s lumbering form into the white parlor, and his breath caught in his throat at the sight that greeted him. Miss Birkin was still as lovely as an angel. Her silky, flaxen hair was knotted over one shoulder and her sea-colored eyes flashed up to meet his gaze. Damn it all, he’d been a giant fool to have said the things to her that he’d done.
    A tentative smile tipped her lips, and for the briefest of moments Berks was certain he’d have slain a dragon if just to have her keep smiling at him.
    “Harrison Casemore,” Miranda began stubbornly, drawing Berks’s attention to his sister-in-law, who sat across from Miss Birkin. “You put that mistletoe back in your pocket this instant.”
    But Harry only lifted his brow in response. He held the little sprig out before him, the very one he’d been brandishing for a sennight whenever the urge to kiss his wife struck him. “You mean this mistletoe, Miranda?”
    His wife feigned an indignant sigh. “I am not kissing you right now. I don’t care…”
    “So I shouldn’t do this?” Her husband lifted the spring right above his head. “Because if I do this, you’ll have to kiss me, won’t you?”
    Berks bit back a laugh. Though a girl like Miranda would drive him mad within a day, it was rather sweet how much in love Harry was with the chit.
    Miranda pushed up to her feet and punched her hands to her hips. “I have kissed you a million times. I think that bit of plant has worn out all of its magical powers. Be gone with you.”
    Harry chuckled. “Worn out its powers? My darling, each time you’ve kissed me, it’s only grown stronger. And I know you don’t want to go against tradition. It’s bad luck and all, besides—”
    “You are