Read Online Deck The Halls With Love: Lost Lords Of Pembrook Novella by Lorraine Heath - Free Book Online Page A

tray of food, and the bed covers slipped over her. She’d fought off sleep, wanting to wait until Chetwyn returned, but exhaustion had claimed her. Rolling onto her side, she stared at the burgundy draperies, thinking of others that she’d recently encountered. They were drawn aside, and through the windowpane she could see the darkness. She’d slept through the day. They’d missed the play. Tonight was the ball. She needed to get dressed and see how Chetwyn was. She knew Lord Tristan had stayed behind to continue searching for him. She wondered if he’d found him or if Chetwyn had made his own way here.
    Reaching over, she yanked on her bell pull to summon the maid who had been assigned to her. When the door opened, however, it was Lady Anne who walked through.
    “Oh, finally, you’re awake.”
    “Lord Chetwyn?”
    “Doing remarkably well. Tristan announced that he found him at the abbey ruins, although I shall eat my favorite bonnet if Tristan truly found him there and not at the castle.”
    Meredith felt the heat suffuse her face. While she didn’t know Lady Anne well, they shared a common interest: Chetwyn. Meredith felt as though she could trust her with anything involving him. “He didn’t want us to be found together.”
    “No, he wouldn’t have, now, would he?”
    “Why do you say that?”
    “Because I know him well enough to know that he would give to you what he once gave to me.”
    With her brow furrowed, Meredith stared at her. “What was that?”
    “The gift of choice.”
    A s Meredith descended the stairs, she could hear the orchestra playing a quadrille, the first dance of the night, according to the dance card that the duchess had given her. She much preferred the waltz. She considered going to the grand salon. Instead, she turned into the parlor and walked over to the small decorated tree that sat on a table near a window. Tiny boxes were gathered beneath the boughs. Meredith had little doubt that they contained treats that the duchess would pass out to her guests tomorrow upon their parting. She would return home to spend the holiday with her family, and a few days afterward she would be moving into the residence she would share with Litton. Where she would share his bed. Where he would touch her and kiss her and bring her pleasure, and she would do the same with him.
    And all the while she would think of Chetwyn, who could have stayed by her side this morning. Then she would be marrying him. In the years to come, would each have wondered if the person sitting across the table was the one they would have chosen—if given a choice?
    Only she had a choice. Chetwyn had ensured it by leaving.
    “Oh, there you are. I’d heard you were finally up and about.”
    Turning slightly, she smiled at Litton. “Yes, I had quite the lovely nap.”
    “Let’s go have our dance, shall we?”
    “How many?” she asked.
    “Pardon?”
    “How many dances?”
    “Well, two, of course. The first and the last.”
    “And in between?”
    “You shall dance with others, and I shall play cards.”
    Four dances the night they met. She wondered how long it would be before he desired only one . . . and then none.
    She swallowed hard, considering if she really wanted to know the truth, but she had to put the niggling doubts to rest. “The night when we were discovered kissing in the garden, during Greystone’s ball—I heard my father and brothers coming.”
    He stared at her as though she’d lost her senses. “As did I.”
    “I tried to slip away, so we wouldn’t be caught. You held me tight and whispered that it would be all right.”
    He smiled. “And it did turn out all right, didn’t it?”
    “Would you have held me so tightly if I had no dowry?”
    He laughed. “Now you’re being silly. Let’s go join the merriment.”
    He took her arm, and she shook him off. “I’m serious, Litton. We had time not to get caught.”
    “I wanted to marry you,” he said impatiently. “Is that suddenly a