Harlequin Historical Christmas Stories 1989 by Kristin James Lucy Elliot Heather Graham Pozzessere

Author:Kristin James, Lucy Elliot, Heather Graham Pozzessere [Owner]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Eveline paused, then caught up her thread again. “Anyway, you know that fur-trimmed bonnet Hetty Pickering is so proud about—the one she bought with her mother when they were down in New York? Well, Hetty was so busy making eyes at Asa Webb that she stood too near the horses, and one of them snatched the bonnet right off her head. You should have seen her expression! You should have seen the horse’s face! Either one was enough to make you burst your sides!”

Eveline and Gray exploded in peals of laughter that their mother greeted with a smile of bemused affection. They were all at breakfast, Eveline, Gray and their mother clustered about the table’s end, with Jack and Mary placed by chance opposite each other. Having spent a long and sleepless night, Mary had considered not appearing for the meal, but good sense had informed her that she would have to face Jack sometime and that the longer she waited the worse it would be. He had greeted her politely, and she had responded in kind. He had not mentioned the previous evening, and she had been grateful for that. Thus far, she had managed to keep her emotions under control, though she was not certain for how long that control would last, as every word Eveline spoke struck like a blow to her heart.

A fire down in the Dell ... Yes, she could see it all, the sleighs drawn in a circle at the clearing’s edge, blankets spread on the fallen logs, the gay bells resounding with every shake of a horse’s head, as the revelers mingled, laughing and talking among themselves. She could taste the richness of the chocolate steaming in the mugs, hear the uproar of hilarity as Hetty lost her hat. She could hear Jack’s laughter rising free above the rest, just the way she’d heard it on the first morning. Tears stung her eyes, and she willed them away. This would not happen; she must not let herself think. She must be the Mary who took, everything in stride...

“Well, Jack!” she heard Gray say. “Have you got a headache? You look down in the mouth. Try some of Mrs. Parker’s biscuits, they’ll perk you up!”

“I don’t know,” Jack glanced at Mary’s downcast head. “I was there the whole time and hardly found cause to laugh.”

“To laugh!” Gray shook his head. “Well, I never—Come now, old man, you roared with the rest of us, you and Annabella! We’re out of marmalade, Mother, you’ll have to ring for more.”

“I’ll get it,” said Mary, grateful for the excuse to rise from the table. Grasping the empty dish, she blundered towards the kitchen door, tears blurring her way. Annabella Woodcross ... Somehow that made it worse, for Annabella was so pretty and so very sure of herself. Jack would not have missed her at Annabella’s side; likely he had forgotten her long before the Dell.

Gray chuckled as Mary disappeared. “Hetty Pickering.” And who will ever forget the sight

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