The Duke Who Hates Christmas (Holidays for Spinsters Book 1) by Bianca Blythe

Author:Bianca Blythe [Blythe, Bianca]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Tags: regency, wallflower, christmas regency, holiday historical romance, duke
Publisher: Somerset Park Press
Published: 2022-09-19T18:30:00+00:00

LIGHT DRIFTED AROUND Miranda, and she stirred in her bed.

“Good morning!” Yvette’s cheerful voice jolted Miranda with the intensity of a bullhorn.

Miranda rubbed her eyes, vaguely remembering last night’s adventure. “What time is it?”

“Late.” Yvette placed a tray piled with toast and tea on Miranda’s bedside table.

Drat.

She’d overslept. The others might view her behavior as suspicious. No one must know she’d spent part of last night in a cave. They certainly should never know about the kiss.

That kiss.

Butterflies swarmed through Miranda’s torso, and her lips careened upward.

“What are you thinking?” Yvette asked.

Heat warmed Miranda’s cheeks. “I was wondering if everyone else is awake.”

“For hours already.” Yvette scrunched her lips together. “You don’t normally sleep so long.”

“It must have been the travel,” Miranda lied.

“Did you hear the militia singing in the night?” Yvette asked.

“Were they?” Miranda’s voice squeaked. “I must have been sleeping soundly.”

“That’s unlike you.”

“Perhaps it’s the sea air,” Miranda’s voice squeaked.

Yvette scrutinized her. “Are you certain you’re well? You look pale.”

“Nonsense.” Miranda rose from the bed. Rather, she attempted to rise from the bed. Instead, she found herself tangled in her bedsheets and toppling to the floor.

Thud.

“Are you well, miss?” Yvette asked, concern evident in her features.

“Naturally.” Miranda marched to the wardrobe and ruffled through her dresses. She needed to not think about the duke. Definitely not think about the duke.

“Let me help you.” Yvette appeared at her side. “Why don’t you eat something?”

“Very well.” Miranda picked up a piece of toast from the tray Yvette had brought and bit into it absentmindedly, then frowned. “Is this...burnt?”

Yvette glanced at the toast, then hastily took it from her. “I’m sorry, miss. I should have noticed. I’m afraid Holly is adjusting to the new kitchen.”

“Ah. I suppose every kitchen is different. We were so lucky to find her.”

“Indeed,” Yvette said, but her smile wavered, and Miranda wondered if Yvette ever shared her true opinion after years of deference to Aunt Imogen.

Miranda hurried to join the others and pretend she hadn’t overslept. She discovered her friends in the drawing room. A fire danced in the hearth, and Miranda toppled into a nearby chair.

“How nice to finally see you,” Beatrice murmured.

“I wasn’t that late,” Miranda insisted, smoothing her skirt.

“It is odd having so many men in the house with us.” Hazel gazed out the window, as if expecting some of the militia to press their noses against it to stare at them.

“Some of them were quite handsome, didn’t you think?” Cassandra mused.

“The duke, for instance.” Beatrice grinned.

“But you were threatening him,” Hazel said.

“The better to make eye contact with,” Beatrice said, and the others collapsed into a fit of giggles.

“He’s not that handsome,” Miranda blurted out.

“No?” Hazel blinked.

“I mean...” Miranda’s skinned warmed, and she was conscious of everyone’s eyes on her. “I’m not reflecting on his handsome features now.”

This time Beatrice raised an eyebrow. “What a curious thing to say. Doth the lady protest too much?”

“I think she doth,” Cassandra exclaimed. “How terribly naughty of you, Miranda.”

Heat flooded Miranda’s cheekbones, and she rose and sat in another armchair.

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