Under The Mistletoe Read Online Free Page B

haughty disdain. “I, for one, will not stand for such vulgar nonsense,” she declared. “And if Lizzie will not assert herself as mistress of this house, then I—”
    â€œMama!” Elizabeth cut her off sharply. “If Mr. Chambers says that our home is to be decorated for Christmas, then it will be decorated. Even with a kissing bough.”
    â€œLizzie!” Her mother’s bosom swelled with outrage.
    â€œStow it, Gertrude,” Elizabeth’s papa advised from the other card table, exerting his authority briefly for the second time in one evening, without raising his eyes from his cards.
    Elizabeth met her husband’s gaze but then looked sharply away. Her heart was beating a wild tattoo in her bosom. She had just openly defied her mother! But how could she not have done so?
    â€œExcuse me,” she said abruptly. “I must go up to Jeremy.” He would be ready for his night feeding. She just hoped her milk had not been soured.
    She had never seen Mr. Chambers smile before today, she thought as she hurried up the stairs. But he had smiled at the children this afternoon, and he had done more than that to all her young cousins inthe drawing room—he had actually grinned at their enthusiasm over his plans for tomorrow. And he had suggested something that sounded so much like fun that her heart ached with longing.
    Fighting in the snow.
    Gathering greenery in the woods.
    Decorating the house.
    Making a kissing bough.
    She had never been kissed—a ridiculous truth in light of the fact that she was a wife and mother. But he had never kissed her. And she had never had a beau before him.
    They were going to decorate the house for Christmas— they, not the servants. They were going to have a kissing bough. She hurried lightly along the corridor to the nursery.
    They were going to have fun .
    At least, she thought, amending the idea as her footsteps slowed, the children and young people were going to have fun. But she was not in her dotage, she reminded herself. She was not even twenty yet. It just seemed that somehow, somewhere, she had misplaced her youth.
    She was a matron with a child. She would be expected to remain at the house.
    Â 
    Lady Templar’s prediction had proved quite correct. Yesterday’s gray, raw day had been transformed into today’s magical white world. A few inches of snow blanketed the outdoors, and more was falling. They were to enjoy that rare phenomenon, Edwin realized early—a white Christmas.
    All the parents of young children not only had given permission for them to join the expedition to gather greenery but also had decided to go outside themselves. Only two babies, Edwin’s own included, stayed in the nursery. The remaining children, their parents, and most of the younger cousins gathered in the hall soon after breakfast, bundled up warmly, chattering and laughing and in exuberant high spirits.
    Most of the parents and young people were there, Edwin saw. One was conspicuously absent. Had he expected her to come? She had surprised him the evening before by defending him against her mother, but she had done so with a cool dignity that had proclaimed only wifely obedience. There had been no indication that she was enthusiastic about his plans or that she intended to participate in them in any way. It would be as well to take no notice of her absence. Shewas still the ice maiden he had married, even though she was a maiden no longer. Her cool demeanor had kept him from going to her bed last night, though he had wondered before he arrived at Wyldwood if he would. They were not officially estranged, after all.
    But despite himself he hesitated, even as the crowd in the hall looked to him for direction.
    â€œI have forgotten something,” he said. “Give me five minutes.”
    He hurried through the arch and ascended the stairs two at a time, imagining with a certain feeling of amusement what Lady Templar’s