Lady Crenshaw's Christmas Read Online Free

truly be envious and do her utmost to make Ginny’s evening a misery?  And what of Her Grace the Duchess of Marcross?  She was capable of saying anything no matter how unkind or cutting, and seeing the rubies around Ginny’s neck would surely make Her Grace angrier than ever. 
    Finally it was time to appear at the top of the stairs and enjoy that breath-taking moment, the one no doubt or fear could touch.  As she swept out of her room, however, Anthony was at the top of the stair, waiting for her.  Ginny thought he had never looked so handsome, his dark hair slightly curling round his brow and the blue of his eyes complemented by a cerulean vest and a sapphire stickpin winking in the folds of his snowy cravat.   
    Finally feeling that all was right with the world, Ginny went to her husband, her skirts rustling, and held out a gloved hand for him to take in his own. 
    “My beloved wife . . .” Anthony murmured.  “There are no words.”  Refusing her hand, he swept her into his arms and carried her down the stairs. 
    She wanted to demur, to insist she was perfectly capable of taking herself downstairs.  Instead she put her arms around his neck and relaxed against his chest where she had an excellent vantage point to view his classical profile and breathe in the heady combination of starched cravat mingled with well-soaped skin and a hint of cologne.  “Anthony,” she said, dropping her head to his shoulder, “perhaps we should fore-go the ball and retire early.”
    “Fie on you woman,” he growled.  “As if you weren’t tempting enough.”
    Ginny lifted her hand to his cheek and turned his face to hers.  “I love you so,” she murmured and was rewarded with a tender smile. 
    “This is the happiest Christmas I have ever known,” he whispered in her ear, “and it hasn’t even properly arrived, yet.”  Stopping mid-staircase, he shifted her in his arms, the better to lean in and cover her mouth with his own. 
    “If you two can stop making eyes at one another long enough to arrive safely by my side,” Grandaunt intoned from the bottom of the stairs, “I should consider myself twice blessed.”
    “Well, if it isn’t Grandmama, come to spoil our fun,” Anthony said with a sly wink for his bride.  “Might I present to you, my wife, the one and only Lady Crenshaw.”  Anthony set her down, took her hand, and twirled her in a pirouette so that her skirts flared out in a sea of ruby red.  “Is she not the most beautiful sight you have ever laid eyes on?”
    “She looks most becoming in red,” Grandaunt admitted with a nod that sent the feathers in her headdress bobbing about like a bird in flight.  “I would be telling an untruth, however, if I didn’t give some of the credit to that collar of rubies around her neck.”
    “You aren’t wrong, Grandmama, not wrong.  Red is her color from the tip of her toes to her alabaster neck.”
    Ginny barely noticed the flush warming her cheeks, so taken up was she with staying upright after being spun about like a top.  She hoped the dancing wouldn’t make her dizzy, as well.  She was so looking forward to waltzing with her husband but expecting a baby seemed to include many unexpected consequences. 
    Deciding it was foolish to borrow trouble, she turned her attention elsewhere.  “Grandaunt, you look a picture!” Ginny exclaimed, giving the old lady an affectionate hug.  “No one will deign to notice me whilst standing next to either of you,” she said with a fond look for her husband.  “I suppose it is time to take our places in the reception line and wait for our guests to arrive.”
    Taking an arm of each lady, Anthony followed the butler to the large double doors of the ballroom.  Ginny felt so suddenly nervous she thought she might faint, but it was all for naught, for as the doors swung wide, she was caught up in the sheer beauty of the room.  The light of the blazing chandeliers was reflected in the floor to ceiling