A Governess Under the Mistletoe: Highland Christmas, Book 2 by Emma Prince

Author:Emma Prince [Prince, Emma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Emma Prince
Published: 2020-10-04T18:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

Judging from the unusually smooth surface of Blair’s brow and the softness of his mouth, their plan was working.

An hour later, the rudimentary gingerbread Glenrose was nearing completion. Amelia had cut the cooled sheets of dense cake while Livie had flitted about in a state of eager delight, gathering peppermint sticks, jellies, and powdered sugar for icing from the kitchen’s old-fashioned larder.

They’d set to construction at once, but Blair’s large hands had proven too powerful for the finesse required to erect the walls and set the roof. So while Livie performed the structural work, he’d been relegated to decoration duty.

Amelia fought a smile as he attempted to dislodge a sticky jellied candy from his fingers so that it could be placed atop one of the manor’s towers. He muttered a curse and surrendered, yanking the candy from his hand with his teeth.

Having completed the structure of the castle with ease, Livie had moved on to building several dainty crofts with the smaller bits of gingerbread left over.

“…And this is the Greers’ cottage,” she was saying, frowning in concentration as she used sugar icing like glue to anchor the roof in place. “Mr. and Mrs. Greer have an older son, Liam, who helps them with their plot. But he may soon wish to work his own land, for he has long been pudding-headed over the MacLochards’ eldest daughter, Peggy. Come spring, he will likely propose. Since they are neighbors, each family has discussed granting them a corner of their parcels, so they can make a start of life together. But back to the Greers. They have two younger sons and a daughter as well, and a bonny hound who whelped seven puppies last spring…”

It had been like that for the past hour, with Livie providing an almost constant stream of information about the manor, the land, and most of all the various people who called Glenrose home. In her not-so-subtle way, Livie was apparently attempting to cram a lifetime’s worth of knowledge about—and affection for—all the families who would be displaced under Blair’s clearance plan.

To his credit, Blair had listened and nodded along, and had even asked the occasional question when Livie’s rambling went farther astray than normal.

“Wasn’t the division and assignation of plots the late Earl’s purview?” he interjected.

Livie, who had been listing the names of all the hound’s puppies, paused.

“Officially, it was,” Amelia offered. “But Lord Glenrose usually allowed the crofters leeway as long as the families involved were satisfied with an arrangement—and it did no harm to the estate, of course.”

Blair contemplated that for a moment. Amelia held her breath, hoping talk of land management hadn’t derailed the cozy, comfortable atmosphere that had unfurled around them this past hour.

Thankfully, Blair nodded, his lips pursed in thought, and returned his attention to the gingerbread manor. But just as Amelia breathed a sigh of relief, he caught her off-guard with a question.

“What’s all this about Drayton being the home of gingerbread?” He cast her a glance, his normally glacial eyes dancing with good humor.

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