How the Duke Stole Christmas by Alanna Lucas

Author:Alanna Lucas
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2019-06-29T23:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 6

P atience ran away as fast as she could. Her face—and other parts—still burned from where his hand had touched her. And then he’d kissed her. He’d kissed her, and she’d slapped him. She flexed her stinging hand which still ached.

A torrent of confusing emotions raged through her body.

She had enjoyed the kiss, had dreamed of him kissing her like that for the past couple of months. That wasn’t the problem. His Grace had not only disappeared at Lady Trumble’s ball, he hadn’t sought her out after that. And then upon his arrival at Castle Greystone, he had not shown any interest in her, had been quite rude actually. And now, for no apparent reason—except that he probably always got his way—he’d kissed her. Well, she’d have none of that. She was all too familiar with the ways of rakes to succumb to his seduction. She had more pressing matters on her mind than His Grace.

She came face to face with an elegant white painted door inlayed in gold. Please be better. She offered a silent prayer.

She knocked softly before entering her aunt’s chamber with caution. Images of her mother lying perfectly still, waiting for death, threatened to swallow her whole. Her chest constricted. Be strong.

She swallowed the hard lump in her throat and sniffled back tears, strolling into her aunt’s chamber with feigned nonchalance. “Are you feeling any better this evening?” Aunt Agnes had missed Christmas dinner last night, and the festivities of Boxing Day.

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Aunt Agnes did sound better.

The breath Patience hadn’t realized she’d been holding eased out, taking with it some of the tension she had been experiencing since her aunt had been taken ill. All of a sudden, things did indeed seem brighter.

“Were you worried, dearie?”

She would have had a hard time lying to her aunt, so she settled on a half-truth. “A little.” It was quite a bit more than a little, especially after everything that had happened to her mother.

“Well, Dr. Mosby said I should be good as right within a week.”

“A week?” Patience tried to hide her horror that it would take that long for her aunt’s recovery. She swallowed hard again, a nuisance habit that was getting worse. “That’s excellent news.”

“Tell me what you’ve been doing to occupy your time?”

She chattered on about handing out gifts, the arrival of the Duke—and subsequent removal of all the decorations, Clara’s unexpected existence—which came as a complete surprise to Aunt Agnes—the weather, and anything else she could think of…everything but that kiss.

Oh, heaven help her. Just the thought of his lips on hers made her warm all over. And the way his hand cupped… Heat rose in her cheeks as her body tingled with remembrance.

“Are you ill?” Aunt Agnes questioned, interrupting her inappropriate thoughts.

“No, I…I suppose I’m just tired.”

“Well, have a good rest and you can tell me more about what you’ve been up to tomorrow. Good night, dearie.”

She brushed a kiss to the older woman’s forehead. “Good night, Aunt Agnes.

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