Nine Ladies Dancing by Deborah M Hathaway

Author:Deborah M Hathaway
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Publisher: Draft Horse Publishing
Published: 2019-11-19T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Matthew pulled back, his brow low over his eyes. “You…what?”

“I trust you heard me so I do not have to repeat myself,” Meg said, her voice smooth as she raised a determined chin.

He felt for the doorframe behind him, resting his hand against the wood. He was only vaguely aware of his palms beginning to sweat. “But why?”

She released a tiresome sigh. “I am standing beneath a kissing bough, Matthew Pratt. Why else would I ask for such a thing?”

He leaned back, catching sight of the ball of mistletoe and greenery hanging above them in a circle, tied together with a neat, red bow. A strange feeling came over him. Disappointment? Relief? He couldn’t be sure.

“Oh, of course. Well that’s an easy task then isn’t it?”

He shook away the nerves that had crept into his shoulders. He’d kissed Meg before beneath a kissing bough. He could do it again.

He leaned forward and placed a quick peck to her cheek. It was over before it had even begun. “There. Now, about your end of the bargain. I think if I—”

“Is that all?”

He eyed her frown. “What do you mean?”

“Is that all I receive for my end of the bargain?”

He hesitated. Why was she so disappointed? That is how they had kissed every year beneath the mistletoe. “I-I didn’t think you’d wish for anything more.”

She huffed. “Do you not think I deserve more for the deal we have struck? After all, I’m going to make your mother very upset with me. Perhaps she throws me from Hollridge House, what then? And all for a simple kiss you would bestow upon your grandmother?”

He could see her point, but an anxiousness settled across him, and he wrung his hands. Was she asking for…He shook the thought from his mind. “Very well. A kiss to your brow then?”

She gave him a dull look—lowering her brow, half-hooding her eyes—then faced him squarely. Silently, she tapped a forefinger against her lips.

He’d expected that she’d been hinting such an action. After all, a kiss on the lips was greater than bestowing one on the cheek or forehead. Still, his heart quickened.

“You…you wish for a real kiss?” he asked, wondering why, after all these years, she would wish for one now.

She shrugged. “It is not so strange, Matthew. I’ve seen countless others do so beneath the mistletoe.” She straightened and raised her chin. “Come now, no more dawdling.”

It was true then, Meg wanted him to kiss her. But why? What would that prove? And more importantly, did he wish to kiss her in return?

Blood rushed throughout him, burning the tips of his ears. He stared down at her, her shining blue eyes watching him, her red lips parted and ready to share in his affection. His heart beat so heavily against his chest, it felt bruised.

Was he really going to do this? Was he going to kiss his friend?

His friend.

He clenched his teeth together, muffling his thoughts with an imaginary cover. It didn’t matter what he desired. Meg was his friend, and he didn’t wish to ruin that.

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