Free The Five Kisses by Karla Darcy Page A

adjust to my loving you.”
    His eyes rose to the kissing bough. He shrugged in frustration and with a swirl of capes moved to open the front door, striding out into the frigid night.
    “I will return,” he said.
    Gillian quickly bolted the door as if she could hold back the devil. She pressed her hot forehead to the icy oaken panels and listened to the echo of Chad’s voice in her mind, the words more threat than promise.

 
     
     
    The Fifth Kiss
     
     
    The clock in the drawing room chimed eight. Gillian could not believe that she had been sitting on the stairs for two hours. When she stood up, she became uncomfortably aware of the aching stiffness of her body. The chill of the night had crept into her bones as her mind floated back through time, to review her relationship with Chad.
    Last night he had said he would return and she knew he would come tonight.
    She descended the stairs, smiling at the mistletoe caught in the flickering light of the hall candle. She was glad she had hung the kissing bough. Though strictly speaking it was not considered appropriate in a house of mourning, she knew her father would have been cross with her for neglecting tradition. Papa had loved the Christmas season, reveling in the feelings of joy and rebirth. Tonight she felt very close to her memories.
    In the drawing room she set more logs on the fire and moved around the room, lighting the wall sconces and the candelabra on the harpsichord. She wanted no darkness to add to the sadness that threatened to engulf her. In the morning she would be leaving for the north to become a teacher at Miss Pennington’s school. She knew she was running away and was ashamed of her cowardice. There was no alternative. Chad was a fire in her blood and if she stayed she would succumb to his gentle seduction.
    Chad was the Earl of Elmore and eventually he would marry a titled lady who would give him the heirs he needed. She knew in her heart that as the daughter of his tutor, the only place she could have in his life was his mistress. Love him as she did, she could not accept such a position.
    “Papa keep me strong,” she whispered as the knock came and she hurried to open the front door.
    “Merry Christmas,” Chad called as he burst through the door, carrying two wicker baskets. One was considerably larger than the other, but the tops of both were similarly covered with red and green-checkered material and the handles were surmounted by large red satin bows.
    Gillian eyed the baskets with misgivings before she had the courage to look up into Chad’s face. Much as she had resolved to be strong, she was not proof against the infectious enthusiasm of his grin. She tried to keep her expression grave but she could feel the corners of her mouth trembling with suppressed laughter. “Merry Christmas to you, too, Chad,” she replied shakily.
    Setting the baskets on the floor, Chad proceeded to brush the snow off the shoulders of his cape, grinning when he showered her with some of the glistening flakes. The cape was unfastened and thrown over the newel post. He dropped his hat on the hall table, stripped off his gloves and stuffed them into the inverted crown. Finished at last, he picked up the baskets and led the way into the drawing room.
    Gillian followed him, slightly flustered that he behaved more like the host than a guest. She watched as he set the baskets on the hearthrug, then, fingers of one hand stroking his beard, he surveyed the room. Without a word, he set about rearranging furniture. When it was completed to his satisfaction, two comfortable chairs were pulled up close to the fire with the low tea table between them.
    “Sit here,” he ordered, patting the back of one of the chairs.
    Gillian knew she should resist Chad’s maneuvering, but she was already caught in the spell he was weaving. Shrugging away her suspicions, she moved to the chair he held for her and sat down.
    “My chef, Monsieur Hubert, has prepared a special feast for