Four Christmas Kisses: A Scandal in Mayfair Book 4 by Anna Campbell

Author:Anna Campbell [Campbell, Anna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-11-21T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Anthea lay wakeful in her bed and stared into the thick darkness. Tomorrow was Christmas Eve. She could probably keep the family at Yardley until after New Year, given the snowy conditions. After that, they’d have to leave.

Also looming was Boxing Day, when she had to give Dr. Hobson an answer to his proposal. Common sense told her that marrying the prosperous doctor would solve a lot of problems. It was unfortunate that she had no real connection with him. Perhaps that mightn’t be enough to deter her from a course that offered so many advantages. But how could she promise herself to a fine man who took her in good faith, when her interest was fixed elsewhere?

On the other hand, how could she deny Harriet, Merry, and Edwina a chance for a home? How could she send Winifred out to work with strangers at her age?

These problems had kept her awake for weeks, although the addition of Lancelot into the mix had complicated everything. Her choices would be easier, if no more appealing, if she’d never stumbled across a handsome gentleman in the snow.

But how could she regret these last few days? Most of all today, which had been one of the happiest she’d ever spent.

For a short interval, her difficulties had receded and she’d tasted genuine joy. The girls had been their old spirited selves, and Anthea had laughed with a wholehearted appreciation that she couldn’t remember feeling since the news of Sir Basil’s death.

While she’d tried to keep her head through all the fun and merriment, it had been impossible. Because Lancelot was right. Despite her love for her sisters and her friendship with Winifred, this was a lonely life. When her mother was alive, she’d had someone to share her burdens, but for the last five years, she’d been alone in so many ways. As she’d told Lancelot, she’d had no chance to enjoy the carefree pastimes of youth. No London season or flirtations or secret kisses.

So there had been a giddy pleasure today sharing the company of an attractive man who treated her as if she thrilled him as much as he thrilled her. Every glance, every word had carried an undercurrent of unspoken craving that transformed the day to magic.

Dangerous magic. Although the problem with magic was that it was impossible to resist. That was why it was called magic.

She could never act on her desire. The day had held a hint of poignancy, because it showed her everything that she’d never had. Everything that she’d never have.

So tonight she didn’t just lie awake mulling over what she could do to keep her sisters together. Tonight, she lay awake because her blood fizzed with wanton curiosity and her skin ached for the brush of an elegant male hand. She’d thought the stranger was attractive when she met him, but as he recovered from his injuries, she’d found herself in physical thrall in a way that left her bewildered.

She’d always imagined that love was a spiritual emotion, involving hearts and souls.

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