Free Ghosts of Winters Past by Christy Graham Parker

will never be a wife.” She didn’t want to be one, not apart from Henry.
    “You will. And you will make a fine duchess.”
    Insipid man! She put her hands on her hips. “And just whose duchess will I be?”
    “Mine.”
    “Have you lost your senses?”
    “No. I have , however , lost a fiancée.”
    She blinked. Opened her mouth, but found no sound came out.
    Henry chuckled and took her hand. “Let’s go outside.”
    She allowed herself to be led outside. Once there, she found her ability to speak had returned. “Would you mind explaining?”
    “Lady Elizabeth was convinced, by your father I might add, that it would be in her best interest to break off her engagement with me.”
    The smallest flicker of hope sprang to life inside her chest. “He did? And she agreed?”
    “I have it on good authority that she and Paul are on their way to Gretna Green as we speak.”
    “Poor Paul.”
    “I think they’re rather evenly matched.”
    “And a Christmas elopement, how romantic.”
    “I can think of one thing more so.”
    “Indeed? What would that be?”
    He took her fan, set it aside, then gathered her hands in his, and bent to one knee. “Marry me, Emma. Be my wife, my duchess.”
    He looked all blurry through the tears in her eyes. “Oh, Henry.”
    “I’ve waited for you, I’ve fought for you, I’ve lost you, and I’ve kept my feelings for you hidden. But no more. From now on, the world will know. You’re mine and I’ll do anything to keep you.”
    “Why, y our g race, you’ve got it all wrong. You’re mine. Not the other way around. I’ve told you that before.”
    “Is that a yes?”
    “Yes, Henry, I will marry you,” she said, recalling his request from before.
    He stood up, not releasing her hands. His expression was complete happiness and bliss. “I’m glad you remembered. But I told you what I would do when you called me ‘ y our g race’ and , with all the people watching from the ballroom, you’re about to be thoroughly compromised.”
    His arms came around her, his lips claimed hers, and somehow she knew the ghosts of their winters were gone and only spring awaited them.

 
About the Author
     
    Christina lives in Southeastern North Carolina with her husband and two kids. She works in the pharmaceutical industry during the day and writes at night. You can also find her working as a Research Advocate for the Parkinson’s Disease Foundation, teaching Sunday School, or reading a good book. She has two dogs, a cat, and serious affection for dark chocolate.

 
Also by Christina Graham Parker:
     

     
    Chapter One
     
    Dallas, Texas Present Day
    Lexy Newberry knew the castle’s inhabitants never suffered delusions of grandeur. Its humble form inspired no poet to greatness or tourist to ask for souvenir postcards. No love-struck princess would degrade herself to seek refuge in the stocky towers, and no noble prince would see the point in storming the tattered gates. In fact, the only claim to fame the castle held was the speed with which one forgot its very existence.
    Yet she had the craziest déjà vu feeling she’d forgotten not only the castle, but something much more important. Something she had no business forgetting.
    “Lexy?” Her concentration shattered at the sound of Cara North’s voice. “Sorry I’m late.”
    “That,” Lexy pointed to her friend, “is the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.”
    An odd look of pride settled over Cara’s features. “Yes. It is, isn’t it?”
    “You meant for it to look that way?”
    Cara chuckled. “I don’t think it’s possible to create the world’s ugliest castle by accident.”
    “I’ll never understand you business-types,” Lexy said. The feeling slipped away. Whatever memory it held bothered her no more.
    Cara pulled her back a few steps. “I did it to create a mood.” She spread her arms wide. “Welcome to the lost island of Dresdonia.”
    “It’s not lost,” she told Cara. “It’s abandoned. Everyone moved to