Mistletoe Wishes: A Regency Christmas Collection

She curled her fingers around his. “I do, if they’re nice surprises.”

“I think this will count as a nice surprise.”

Curiosity ate at her, as they left his room and followed the corridor to the staircase. After the storms, it seemed deathly quiet. The candlelight flickered against the high walls, picking out a distant building in a landscape painting or the gleam of a painted eye in a portrait.

Maggie shivered. She wasn’t particularly superstitious, but she felt like a thousand ghosts gathered to watch their progress. Away from the fire, the house was freezing, and she moved closer to Joss. His big body radiated heat like a great furnace. “I hope we’re not going far.”

“Now that’s interesting.” His grip on her hand firmed. “I’m hoping we’ll go very far indeed.”

She frowned. Was he talking about her sensual education? Or something more permanent? He’d said he never wanted to part from her. Did he mean to ask her to return to London as his mistress? But surely he must know that was a step too far, even for a woman who tonight had cast her bonnet over a windmill.

Before Maggie summoned the nerve to ask what he meant, they stopped outside the drawing room. Joss released her to place his hand on the door and look down at her with an unreadable expression. “Do you know it’s Christmas Eve?”

Puzzled she met his gaze. “I suppose so.”

It must be well after midnight, so of course it was Christmas Eve. As if to confirm the fact, the long clock in the hall chimed three.

“Christmas Eve is a magical time. A time when wishes come true.”

“I’ve never heard that,” she said skeptically, used by now to the charming nonsense he spouted about Christmas. Although he could be right about the magic, because this was the first Christmas since her mother died when she’d felt any joy in the season. All because of Joss.

“Yes, you have. Don’t children go to bed on Christmas Eve, dreaming of presents and all the fun and games to come the next day?”

It was a long time since she’d had such a Christmas Eve. “I’m not a child anymore.”

“Everyone’s a child at Christmas.” He leaned in to kiss her briefly, setting off a cascade of pleasure. Would she ever take these spontaneous expressions of affection for granted? “Come with me.”

He pushed the door open to a blaze of light. Maggie halted on the threshold, lost in wonder.

Joss must have unearthed every candle in the house. Flickering lights ranged across the mantel above the fire blazing in the hearth. Branches of candles covered every table. Combined with the Christmas greenery they’d had such a lovely time putting up, the effect was like a bower in an enchanted forest.

He stepped inside the room, and she followed in a daze of love and gratitude. Her shawl slipped to the ground, but the room was so cozy, it hardly mattered.

“Joss, this is lovely,” she said, touched that he’d taken this trouble for her.

He strode into the center of the floor, where he’d arranged a circle of fat beeswax candles, all burning bravely against the dark winter night. “Aren’t you glad we got the house ready for Christmas?”

Before his arrival, how lonely and closed away she’d been. Christmas had meant nothing to her. But right now, her heart was so full of love and gratitude, she felt like that dismal girl was another person entirely.

She blinked away more tears and spread her hands, hoping he’d understand how profoundly he’d changed her. “You’ve brought the house alive.” She licked her lips and spoke the stark truth. “You’ve brought me alive.”

His smile radiated such warmth, she felt she stepped into summer. “And you’ve brought me alive.”

She

was coming to terms with such a marvelous confession, when he went down on one knee and held his hand out toward her. “Margaret Carr, my darling Maggie, will you marry me?”

Chapter 12

Joss waited for Maggie to rush into his arms, to say an ecstatic yes, to kiss him. Perhaps even tell him she loved him.

Because he was certain she must.

He wasn’t an idiot. Only love made a woman like Maggie Carr give herself to a man. And while she might have kept the words back, her love had illuminated every second of these last incandescent hours.

But to his astonishment, instead of running toward him, she faltered back. An expression that looked like anguish tightened her features, and all the lovely rosy softness vanished in a blink.

“Maggie?” he asked uncertainly, staggering to his feet.