Free A Dangerous Nativity by Caroline Warfield Page B

himself, until he put his hand to the door to the
family parlor. Lord Arthur froze. He definitely had memories of the
room they were about to enter, as he had made clear the last
time.
    Yes, now for the hard part.
    ***
    Catherine enjoyed a private smile. One moment
Sylvia stood, rigid and uncertain, near the doorway. The next, her
son accosted her with a hug and an enthusiastic kiss. The duchess
couldn't hold back a warm smile, but her expression reflected
puzzlement and confusion. Charles grinned back and pointed up.
Those mischief-makers hung mistletoe where it will catch anyone
coming in the door.
    Randy came in behind Charles. He looked
apprehensive, but he stood on his toes to place a quick kiss on the
duchess's cheek. "Joyeux Noël, Your Grace," he said, blushing
furiously.
    Freddy did the same, and the duchess allowed
it.
    Amazing.
    Sylvia spun around, looking at Catherine as
though to ask if the world had turned upside down. Before Catherine
could speak, however, Glenaire came through the door.
    Does a lady accost a gentleman under
mistletoe? No power on earth could push Catherine to approach the
aloof marquess. Her father followed behind, however, and she
couldn't resist. "Happy Christmas, Papa," she said, with an
affectionate kiss. The old man beamed back at her. "Happy
Christmas, Daughter."
    The sound of loud throat clearing came from
the hallway. Lord Arthur stepped out of the way, to enable Will to
enter. Catherine started to take a step back, but a firm hand took
her wrist.
    "Oh, no, you don't. Mistletoe rules," the
earl laughed.
    His mouth covered hers in a kiss that heated
her to her toes, but managed to stay chaste enough for the
audience. Catherine felt her world spin.
    "Merry Christmas, Miss Wheatly," the earl
whispered, searching her face. "I hope it is the happiest you've
ever known." He released her hand, but not her heart. His eyes held
hers. What an odd thing to say.
    She felt relief when Will turned his eyes
away to look at the dancing faces of three boys, and suggested they
open gifts.
    Songbird Cottage's modest gifts, framed
watercolors, were well received. The duchess appeared touched by
the pair of goldfinches in hers. "Chadbourn must have told you they
are my favorite," she said.
    "Actually, it was my idea," Charles said,
proudly.
    Will opened his gift to reveal a drawing of a
humble English robin, head high. "I will treasure this," he
murmured. Even the marquess seemed impressed with his painting of a
sleek, black raven.
    Once Lord Arthur thanked the earl and duchess
for his pen set, all eyes turned to Catherine. "I can wait," she
said. "I'm not sure the boys can."
    The next moments were a riot of paper and
exclamations. Freddy went into spasms of joy over a set of cavalry
figures sized to match the miniature army in Charles's nursery.
Randy grinned over a leather-bound copy of A Guide for Young
Shepherds. Charles opened a copy of The War of the Roses and
wrapped his uncle in an impulsive hug. Catherine initially
suspected the duke could expect more luxurious gifts over the next
twelve days, but doubt plagued her when Sylvia spoke.
    "I've never known such a night in this house.
Mistletoe, Chadbourn? Gifts?"
    Pity filled Catherine. Could it be, this
woman had never had a holiday party? Her father's next words wrung
her heart.
    "There never was a night like this. M'father
didn't believe in celebrating. Church service, yes, but 'no pagan
nonsense,' he would say." Lord Arthur sounded bitter. "I think the
old man didn't want to spend a groat on family. It took my Mary to
teach me how to make a family. Praise God for her." He smiled at
Catherine sadly.
    Silence greeted this statement. Even the boys
looked at him, their expressions sad. Catherine couldn't find
words. He had mourned her mother these five years, never more than
at Christmas.
    It was the duchess who spoke next. Her words
startled Catherine. "Lord Arthur, you make her sound like a
wonderful woman. Why did your father disapprove of her? Why