The Christmas Secret by London Julia

The Christmas Secret by London Julia

Author:London, Julia [London, Julia]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster, Inc.
Published: 2011-10-31T16:00:00+00:00


Chapter Six

Eireanne’s heart was pounding with the exhilaration of the kiss, her breath short. She had not expected that kiss, but Lord, she had wanted it so badly that her desire had startled her. She was thankful for the interruption, for she’d feared where it might have gone, what she might have done with her ravenous desire for him.

Eireanne stepped into the room, her hand pressed to her chest, and asked, “What has happened?” of Mr. Hannigan, who was standing near the wassail bowl and looking very rosy-cheeked and red-nosed.

In fact, it took him a moment to focus on her, but when he did, he smiled. “Alainn, alainn, Eireanne. There you are, then!” he said, and wrapped a heavy arm around her shoulders. “Where did you get off to?”

Eireanne’s cheeks flamed as the image of Henry and his deep brown eyes gazing at her with all that desire blazed in her mind’s eye. “What has happened?” she asked again.

Mr. Hannigan squinted. “I tell you I cannot make up or down of it. Someone found something . . . odd.” The emphasis on the word caused Mr. Hannigan to pitch forward a little, but he quickly righted himself.

“Odd?” Eireanne repeated with alarm.

“Not a foot or an arm, if that is what you think,” Mr. Hannigan said, and he laughed jovially, his glassy eyes squinting with delight. “Yet I really cannot say what. If you’d like to know, you best go have a look.”

Eireanne glanced back. Henry was standing at the door, his gaze on her. He smiled softly, as if they shared a secret, and Eireanne’s belly fluttered. She’d been held in thrall on that terrace, had been perfectly content to kiss Henry Bristol until the fear of being accused of indecency and carted off to St. Brendan’s nunnery had stopped her—but then she’d heard the shriek of alarm or delight, and the sudden halt of music. With a wee bit of queasiness, she was reminded of the infamous rabble of a Christmas feast ten years prior, when Davy O’Malley had taken umbrage with Ryan Walsh and a brawl had erupted.

Eireanne smiled at Henry . . . but duty called. She removed Mr. Hannigan’s arm and pushed her way through the crowd, which was difficult to do, as everyone was gathered in the center of the room. When she could not maneuver her way any closer, Eireanne tapped Eugenia Tate on her shoulder. The mother of eight whirled around, her eyes shining with excitement.

“What is it? What has been found?” Eireanne asked.

“A letter,” Eugenia said and grasped Eireanne’s wrist. “Mrs. Hannigan found it just there, as if someone who had been dancing dropped it.”

“A letter?” Eireanne repeated. This commotion was all for a letter? She glanced over her shoulder again, but she could not see Henry for all the gentlemen who had closed in behind her, craning their necks to see what was happening.

“It has no seal!” Eugenia said excitedly.

“No?” Eireanne said and stubbornly pushed closer, until she could see Molly



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