Free The Secret Christmas Ciphers by Carolynn Carey

they’d stood together in this room, she’d asked him to explain why he’d become engaged to another woman and he’d refused to tell her. What was it he had said? My honor would not allow me to act differently. If I could tell you all, you would not condemn me, I promise you .
    She shrugged out of his grasp. “Promises come easily to you, Derek. A little too easily, I’m afraid. There comes a point when promises are without meaning and without value. I fear yours have reached that point with me.”
    She turned and hurried from the room but not before she heard Derek rather heatedly cursing to himself under his breath.
     
    * * *
     
    Although Abigail longed to crawl into bed and weep, she wouldn’t give Derek that satisfaction. She might be a wife in name only, but she was still the mistress of this castle, and she had responsibilities to attend to.
    She made her way to the small sitting room in the rear corner of the castle. Windows looked out over the gardens, which were now blanketed with melting snow. But those gardens would bloom with renewed growth and bright blooms come spring, and Abigail had determined that she would claim this room for her own. An elegant desk near the fireplace would work well for her correspondence, and a lovely overstuffed chair near the window would be perfect for reading on sunny days.
    But all of that was for the future. First she needed to ascertain what needs the servants might have. She rang for a footman to light the logs already laid in the fireplace and then asked him to fetch the housekeeper.
    Mrs. Brownley arrived within minutes, puffing a bit as though she’d hurried down the long and chilly corridors. She dropped a curtsey and quickly surveyed the room. “Good day, Lady Westdale. Is this to become your sitting room then?”
    Pleased that the woman she’d known for many years was so accepting of her new role in the castle, Abigail smiled and nodded. “I’ve always admired this room and I’m looking forward to making use of it while overseeing some of my duties.”
    Mrs. Brownley nodded approvingly. “Excellent, my lady. How may I be of service?”
    “You can tell me if there are any problems that I need to be concerned with.”
    “Now that you ask, my lady, Cook has been wondering what plans you might have in regards to Christmas. The last few years the family did little to celebrate the holiday, and while Lord Melton had no objections to the servants enjoying their own games and such, we all miss the Yule log and wassail bowl and all the garlands and so forth that the late Lady Melton always oversaw.”
    Mrs. Brownley’s words sent Abigail’s spirits soaring. She’d always loved observing Christmas. When she’d been in charge of her father’s household, she’d made sure that all of the traditions of the season were celebrated. At the same time, she’d felt some degree of pity for the inhabitants of Melton Castle. The earl showed no interest in the holiday, and the stepsisters had pretty much left everything in the hands of the servants.
    But now the servants were turning to Abigail, accepting her as mistress of the castle, so obviously she would be perfectly within her rights to take over that responsibility. No one else had bothered in the years since the second countess died, and it seemed clear the servants were hoping for a more cheerful Christmas this year.
    After telling Mrs. Brownley she could assure Cook that they would have all the traditional dishes this year, including mincemeat pies and, of course, the Christmas pudding, the two sat down in Abigail’s new sitting room to makes lists regarding the other activities related to the season. While Abigail longed to hold a Christmas ball at the castle, she realized she would have to put that off until a year when Derek and his father were less involved with the war efforts.
    “But never fear, Mrs. Brownley,” she told the housekeeper. “We’ll certainly have a Yule log and send the men out for holly