Let it Snow by Heather Boyd

Author:Heather Boyd [Boyd, Heather]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heather Boyd

Chapter 7

The manor house was ready. Everything was perfect for tomorrow’s Christmas Eve feast. She took one last taste of the wassail and then another, making sure the mixture was good enough for Luc.

Warmth crept up her cheeks as she thought of him. He was turning out to be a decent man, and herself a wanton flirt.

Luc now couldn’t seem to get far enough from her. Yvette had apparently stumbled upon a way to keep a terrible scoundrel at bay—kiss him first. She should have been happy that he no longer sought her out but instead she felt incredibly sad.

She gave the chamber one last cursory glance, certain nothing more could be done to beautify it for the holiday and then turned for the door. The old woman had asked Yvette to report back to her when she was done with the drawing room.

She crossed the hall to the small parlor the lady of the house used during the day and heard an argument in progress inside. Luc’s voice, and the old woman’s, were raised and although they spoke only in French, she understood enough to know it was about her being here.

“Do you promise not to make this more difficult than it needs to be?”

“Why should you not have your way?”

“Promise me you will tell Yvette’s brother after I’ve gone that we were never unchaperoned, and especially that he has no reason to doubt Yvette’s virtue remains intact. Believe me, she’s too innocent to be forced to marry a man like me.”

Yvette reared back from the door, shocked by the news that Luc was leaving. She quickly put her ear to the door to learn more.

“I don’t know why you won’t press your advantage,” Madame Bisset grumbled.

Neither did Yvette.

There came the sound of a man frustrated. “Because I love her too damn much to see her unhappily wed to anyone, Grand-mère! Especially me. It doesn’t matter that I chose her long ago. She deserves someone much better.”

Yvette nearly swooned. Luc loved her? How could that be?

But surely, he would not lie about such an important thing to his grandmother. She put her eye to the crack in the door to see the old lady nod. “If it’s what you want, I will do as you say.”

“Thank you, chérie,” Luc said, sounding relieved. “It’s for the best. Excuse me. I need to see to a few things before I go.”

With the conversation over and Luc’s heavy tread heading toward the door, Yvette beat a hasty retreat to the drawing room across the hall. She went to the fireplace, fiddled with a branch of holly draped across the mantle, but her mind was in a whirl.

Scoundrels didn’t declare they loved women to their grandmothers, then planned the next moment to leave them.

And why did he love her?

She plopped down in a chair and put her head in her hand.

Of all the men who had pursued her in the past year, never would she have imagined Luc had any honorable intentions concerning her.

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