Citit - A Rogue's Christmas Kiss by Eva Devon

Author:Eva Devon [Devon, Eva]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-11T18:30:00+00:00

Sebastian arched a brow and scowled. “This is the most absurd endeavor.”

The Duke of Huntsdown laughed, a jolly sound. A jollier sound than Sebastian could ever recall him making. The duke had been a practical and dangerous man-of-arms. Levelheaded. Sure of hand. A great man.

“What the devil is so amusing?” Sebastian demanded as they strode over the snow.

The duke clasped his hands behind his back. “I assure you, this is most reasonable. If you wish to become acquainted with absurdity you must meet my brother, John.”

“We are slogging through snow,” Sebastian began to point out. “Looking for a tree limb to set alight when there is already enough wood cut to burn the entire house down if we so chose.”

“If you see it that way, then yes.” The duke grinned. “It is absurd.”

“Is there another way to see it?” he inquired dryly.

The duke’s grin dimmed and sincerity darkened his eyes. “We are seeking a feeling.”

“Oh God,” Sebastian groaned, doffing his hat and shoving a hand through his hair. “A feeling? I should have brought a bottle of brandy.”

Huntsdown shook his head. “Feelings aren’t your forte. I know it. It’s why you served me so well. But in the end, we are all made up of emotions. And Christmas is all about feelings and memories, aside from the holy day. We don’t seek out a tree to seek out a tree. We seek out a tree to remember all those years before we carried out this tradition and the people we did it with.”

Sebastian allowed these words to sink in before he snuck a glance back at his wife.

Happiness had transformed her face. The walk through the snow in pursuit of tradition had lit her cheeks with a beautiful cherry tone. Her eyes positively sparkled under her crimson hood.

Her animated conversation with the duchess gave him a strange pang.

He winced. Envy. That’s what it was. He envied their ease.

He envied their mutual joy.

In all his life, he couldn’t recollect such an experience of convivial ease. Suddenly, he found himself wishing to be a part of it.

Dare he try?

All his past told him no. . . Yet, his past had been a joyless march. What wouldn’t he give for a bit of joy? Something the likes of which Marabelle had experienced with her family. Something which the duke clearly experienced with his wife.

“You’re right,” Sebastian confessed, clapping his hat back atop his head. “I am unfamiliar with feelings. . . But I wish to make this Christmas pleasant for my wife.”

“Do you? I’m glad to hear it.”

Sebastian nodded, surprised that his own throat was tightening at the thought of Marabelle’s pain. “She’s known a great deal of sadness recently and I should like to alleviate it.”

The duke eyed him. “You like her, do you not?”

“Yes,” he answered honestly. “I’ve never met a soul like her.”

Huntsdown smiled, a trait he now seemed tied to. “You ought to give marriage a real chance, you know. Before you fly off back to the continent.”

Sebastian cleared his throat.

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