Free Old Acquaintances: Christmas Regency Tale (Regency Tales Book 2) by Gayle Buck Page A

look up at the crown-shaped kissing bough and the mistletoe suspended from its center. She laughed. “So we are. Rest easy, sir. I do not subscribe to all of the Christmas traditions,” she said reassuringly.
    Sir Peregrine smiled. “But I do.” He took her into his arms and kissed her slowly and thoroughly. Judith’s thoughts tilted and tumbled into confusion.
    Sir Peregrine released her. There was a curious expression in his eyes. “Merry Christmas, Judith,” he said softly, and he left the drawing room.
    Judith remained standing where he had left her for several seconds before she left the drawing room and made her way upstairs to her bedroom.
     
    Chapter Eight
     
                  The two days following were marked by weak sunshine and the rising hopes of various members of the household that the snow had at last run its course. When the man who regularly delivered meat from the village butcher appeared at the servants’ entrance, it was felt that Elmswood Hall would soon be back to normal. “That noseybody is as good as gone,” said Cook with satisfaction, and she began to plan a special menu to celebrate the happy event.
                  Miss Grantham would willingly have echoed her cook’s sentiments. She heard the announcement about the weather with welcome relief, Withers having chosen to deliver it himself to the entire company when they were assembled for luncheon. “That is wonderful, indeed.” She turned an inquiring gaze in the direction of her guests, her winged brows lifted. “Perhaps I may send a message to the posting house?”
                  “That would be fine for Mrs. Nickleby and myself. We should be getting on with our visit to our boy,” said Mr. Nickleby. He tucked in the last bite of a meat pie. After eyeing the port wine trifle on the sideboard a moment, he regretfully decided against it. He had eaten well and he did not think that he could swallow another mouthful.
                  Mrs. Nickleby’s lips opened as she prepared herself to deliver a comment. Ruthlessly, Judith passed over her to address Mr. Smith. “And you, sir?” she asked, her smile appearing again.
                  Compared to the Nicklebys, Mr. Smith had been a paragon of a guest even though more than once his roaming about the house had served to give a fright to the maids when they had come upon him in unexpected places. She herself had discovered him again in the library and she had felt an initial surprise, for she had not thought he looked the sort who would enjoy books. But she had reminded herself that appearances could be deceiving. Thereafter she had made a point of commenting on some story or other that she had found of interest and Mr. Smith had seemed to appreciate her efforts because his eyes had crinkled up with a quiet humor that she had found endearing.
                  “Aye, miss. And I will be thanking you kindly,” said Mr. Smith.
                  Judith nodded, appreciating his quiet manners – quite unlike some she could think of, who had not once uttered a gracious word, she thought. She turned her gaze on Lord Baltor, who was looking unhappy. “Why, is there something wrong, my lord?”
                  Lord Baltor hesitated a moment, vacillating. At last he took his courage in his hands. “The thing of it, Miss Grantham, is that I do not feel that I can take my leave just yet. I mean to say, it was my doing that caused Miss Brown to fall ill. I would not feel right to leave Elmswood without knowing-“
                  “You refine too much on it, Baltor,” said Sir Peregrine impatiently.
                  Judith glanced at Sir Peregrine. She smiled warmly at Lord Baltor. “Your sentiments do you credit, my lord. Certainly, you may remain at Elmswood for as long as you would like. However, I do not wish you to sacrifice your time with your aunt. Did you not say