Winter's Widow (The Wicked Winters Book 12) by Scarlett Scott

Author:Scarlett Scott [Scott, Scarlett]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Happily Ever After Books, LLC
Published: 2021-03-10T22:00:00+00:00

“A crash sounded. All the hounds began to bark, racing for the source of the interruption,” Joanna read to the drawing room.

“What manner of crash was it?” Gideon demanded.

Mirabel sighed, and was about to remind her youngest son to hold his tongue whilst his sister was sharing the story she had been so dutifully penning, when Percy stepped in.

“Hush, Gid,” he chided, quite stepping into the role of oldest sibling these days. “Joanna is reading, and you must allow her to have her turn.”

Her mouth snapped closed. Before her was cruel evidence of how quickly her children were growing. No longer babes who needed her tender embraces or handkerchief to dry their tears. Indeed, there would be no more babes to hold in her arms. No more first steps or first words.

Why did the thought bring with it such a ludicrous pang of longing? She had three children she loved, and she now had her freedom as well. What more could she ask for?

Him.

But she would not think of Damian Winter now. Nor would she contemplate the risks she had taken when she had allowed him to spend within her. But two mistakes would not matter, surely? She would be more careful next time. She would make certain there could be no recriminations.

And she would be wiser. Though an unwanted voice reminded her that if she were truly wise, there would not be a next time.

“Do you not agree, Mama?”

Percy’s voice cut through her frantic, troubled thoughts, making her jump in her seat. She jerked her attention back to her children, guilt searing her for being so beset by distraction. Her children deserved all her attention.

Mirabel sighed. “Yes, of course I agree. Gideon, you must not interrupt your sister.”

“I was only wanting to know what sort of crash it was. She did not say.” Gideon shrugged.

Percy rolled his eyes heavenward, as if exasperated. “Mayhap she was about to, before you began chirping like a sparrow with your endless litany of questions.”

“I’m not a sparrow!” Gideon, forever sensitive about being the youngest, puffed up his chest. “Did you know the reed sparrow doesn’t sing? What is a litany?”

“A repetition,” Mirabel explained gently. “Your curiosity is commendable, Gideon, but it can be tiresome, particularly when you are not exhibiting good manners.”

“Was it a clang, as in swords clashing? What if it was a lion roaring? Can lions eat people?” Gideon continued, undeterred.

Joanna huffed. “May I finish my story?”

“Lions can eat people, I suppose,” Mirabel found herself answering.

That was what Gideon did—he asked questions. His little head was filled with them. He also interrupted and tended to forget his manners. Walters often despaired of him. He was unique, her Gideon. Sometimes Mirabel wondered where his inquisitive, stubborn nature had derived from.

Her youngest son gasped. “How would a lion eat a person?”

“Lions only eat lads who ask too many questions,” Percy said, his face expressionless.

But once more, Gideon continued, “Do lions understand questions?”

“Yes,” said Percy.

“No,” Mirabel reassured him simultaneously. “You needn’t worry about lions, my dear.

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