His Christmas Pleasure Read Online Free Page A

jewels of the ton.
    The dance set was winding down on the dance floor. The dancers bowed to each other as the musicians drew out the final note. In minutes, others would take their place for the next set—and she had to admit she longed to be one of their number. She wanted to say that she’d danced at least once this evening. That she’d been a part of it all.
    And now she would be.
    Some of the tightness building inside her eased ever so slightly. Freddie was going to marry another … and she’d have to go on. Just as she’d had to face marrying Mr. Lynsted. What was it her father had said when he’d informed her of the marriage? “Life has its disappointments.”
    “Disappointments about what?” the barón asked, and Abby realized she’d spoken aloud. “I don’t think I’m that difficult to dance with.”
    “I’m sorry, it was something my father said to me when he’d arranged my marriage with the man who is now known in our house as ‘that scoundrel Lynsted.’ ”
    “And this is the man who jilted you?”
    “You heard everything, didn’t you?” There was no heat in her accusation.
    He shrugged. “There is nothing wrong with my ears. And I agree you should not settle for disappointments.”
    “Do you?”
    “I have,” he admitted. “But I don’t think you are one who likes being told what to do.”

    Abby laughed. “You are right. I’m too much like my father for my own good. In fact, everyone in our family has strong opinions. Run now while you have the chance.”
    Now it was his turn to laugh. She liked the way his teeth flashed white and even in his smile. He was the most attractive man she’d ever laid eyes on.
    And, perhaps, the kindest.
    “So why don’t you have a valet?” she asked, truly curious as he started to lead her to the dance floor.
    Such was his notoriety that the crowd seemed to part to let them pass.
    “I could tell you,” he said, “that it is because I was staying with the duke of Holburn and using his servants, and now that I have my own apartments I have not had time to hire one.”
    “Or you could tell me the truth,” she prompted.
    He laughed, the sound again startling in its richness. Heads turned in their direction, as if those around them were caught by the sound of it.
    “Yes, I would tell you the truth, palomita,” he said, leaning so close that he spoke in her ear. “I’m broke. Done up. Poor. I tie my own neck cloth, and I don’t know what Lord Frederick Sherwin is thinking. I have no special method.”
    Abby’s feet rooted to the floor. “Truly?”
    He nodded solemnly, and she realized he’d just given her a gift—or a weapon. The gossip she could spread … but she wouldn’t.
    And in that moment, she felt a connection to him. A very human one.
    She understood him. He was like herself, an outsider. She was viewed suspiciously by their current company because of her father’s self-made fortune and working roots. They had to include her because, after all, she was family.

    The barón was seen as foreign. He was exotic and feted, but separate and apart.
    Oh, yes, she understood exactly how he felt.
    “But you cut a ‘fine figure of a man,’ “ she reminded him.
    “Says Brummell,” he agreed and they both laughed, in complete accord with each other….
    “Oh, Abigail,” a high-pitched woman’s voice said. “What have you found?”
    Her aunt, the duchess of Banfield and this evening’s hostess.
    “Hello, Your Grace,” Abby said. Even though the duchess was her aunt, Abby knew she expected every ritual of her station.
    “The two of you had your heads close together,” her aunt said. She was tall, like her daughter Corinne, although her hair was silver instead of blonde.
    “What’s so secret?” she continued. “Your mother will want to know, Abigail, especially since you are whispering to the one man every woman here is watching. Oh, if only I was half a decade younger.” She rapped the barón lightly with her folded fan.
    Abby