Read Online Miss Mistletoe by Erin Knightley - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Erin Knightley
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the letter that was burning a hole in her lap, Papa accepted the teacup the housekeeper placed in his hand. He took a small sip and immediately spit it back out, slapping the cup down on the table. “Damnation, is it your intention to poison me? This must be brewed with dirt and horse manure.”
“Papa,” Cece chastised, sending an apologetic look to the housekeeper. “Thank you, Mrs. Kelly, I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“You’re welcome, Miss. And never you mind what’s in it, Squire. Though, one would think you’d know the taste of healing plants, vaulted horticulturist that you are.”
He scowled in her general direction as she marched back out. Cece shook her head. The two of them had been prone to bickering since her return from Evie’s wedding. It was just one more thing that reinforced her conviction that she was much too needed at home to ever consider marrying and moving away. The two of them would likely kill each other inside of a month.
“I don’t even have a blasted cold, the meddling woman.” He pushed the cup aside and sat back. “What were we discussing?”
A fresh pang of awareness speared through her, and she retrieved the letter from her lap, carefully smoothing away the wrinkles. “I was about to read your correspondence,” she said brightly. It wouldn’t do to remind him that he had been trying to figure out how he knew Finn’s name.
As she scanned the note, she gasped when her eyes landed on her own name—not Miss McCrea or even Cecelia, but Cece. She quickly coughed to cover the gasp, and made a production of sipping her tea to buy her some time to read more.
How odd—seeing her name in his own hand was almost as jarring as if he had spoken it. It felt remarkably intimate. He knew she would be the one to read the note, and had purposely included a postscript directly to her.
“Cece, are you quite all right, dear?”
Blast, Finn’s message to her would have to wait. “Yes, thank you.” She drew a steadying breath and began to read.
Dear Mr. McCrea,
As a friend of Richard Moore, Earl of Raleigh, it is my understanding that you are quite the accomplished horticulturalist. It is my wish to at last stock the Edgerton conservatory, which has stood empty for decades. Though of course much of the task will be entrusted to my gardeners, I wanted to begin such an endeavor with the advice of one as accomplished as you. Any council that you would be inclined to share would be greatly appreciated.
Respectfully yours,
Finn, Viscount Edgerton
“Ah, that must be how I know the name. Well, how nice of Raleigh to speak well of me,” Papa said. She murmured her agreement, and he crossed his arms and tapped his chin. “A conservatory from scratch, you say? Why that
is
quite an undertaking. The possibilities are nearly endless.”
“Yes, endless,” she said, her eyes darting back to the page. She couldn’t help but think of their afternoon in Hertford’s library, when she had indulged her fantasy and planned the perfect conservatory. What had happened to her drawings? As Papa began ruminating on possible starting points, she quickly read through the rest of the note.
Dearest Cece,
Since I didn’t wish to cause trouble for you by writing a letter addressed directly to you, I hope you’ll forgive me for my unconventional method of reaching you. I know you believe that it would be unlikely for us to meet again, but I find I’m not prepared to accept such an eventuality. You’ve been much in my thoughts since we parted and I wonder, do you think of me as well? If the answer is yes, perhaps a suggestion from you to your father to invite me to view your conservatory would result in the perfect solution for both of us.
Ever yours,
Finn
She shook her head, staring down at the page. It was a
bad
idea. Having him near her would simply remind her of the things she wasn’t to have. She’d spent months dreaming of what her life would be like if she had accepted his
“Papa,” Cece chastised, sending an apologetic look to the housekeeper. “Thank you, Mrs. Kelly, I’m sure it’s lovely.”
“You’re welcome, Miss. And never you mind what’s in it, Squire. Though, one would think you’d know the taste of healing plants, vaulted horticulturist that you are.”
He scowled in her general direction as she marched back out. Cece shook her head. The two of them had been prone to bickering since her return from Evie’s wedding. It was just one more thing that reinforced her conviction that she was much too needed at home to ever consider marrying and moving away. The two of them would likely kill each other inside of a month.
“I don’t even have a blasted cold, the meddling woman.” He pushed the cup aside and sat back. “What were we discussing?”
A fresh pang of awareness speared through her, and she retrieved the letter from her lap, carefully smoothing away the wrinkles. “I was about to read your correspondence,” she said brightly. It wouldn’t do to remind him that he had been trying to figure out how he knew Finn’s name.
As she scanned the note, she gasped when her eyes landed on her own name—not Miss McCrea or even Cecelia, but Cece. She quickly coughed to cover the gasp, and made a production of sipping her tea to buy her some time to read more.
How odd—seeing her name in his own hand was almost as jarring as if he had spoken it. It felt remarkably intimate. He knew she would be the one to read the note, and had purposely included a postscript directly to her.
“Cece, are you quite all right, dear?”
Blast, Finn’s message to her would have to wait. “Yes, thank you.” She drew a steadying breath and began to read.
Dear Mr. McCrea,
As a friend of Richard Moore, Earl of Raleigh, it is my understanding that you are quite the accomplished horticulturalist. It is my wish to at last stock the Edgerton conservatory, which has stood empty for decades. Though of course much of the task will be entrusted to my gardeners, I wanted to begin such an endeavor with the advice of one as accomplished as you. Any council that you would be inclined to share would be greatly appreciated.
Respectfully yours,
Finn, Viscount Edgerton
“Ah, that must be how I know the name. Well, how nice of Raleigh to speak well of me,” Papa said. She murmured her agreement, and he crossed his arms and tapped his chin. “A conservatory from scratch, you say? Why that
is
quite an undertaking. The possibilities are nearly endless.”
“Yes, endless,” she said, her eyes darting back to the page. She couldn’t help but think of their afternoon in Hertford’s library, when she had indulged her fantasy and planned the perfect conservatory. What had happened to her drawings? As Papa began ruminating on possible starting points, she quickly read through the rest of the note.
Dearest Cece,
Since I didn’t wish to cause trouble for you by writing a letter addressed directly to you, I hope you’ll forgive me for my unconventional method of reaching you. I know you believe that it would be unlikely for us to meet again, but I find I’m not prepared to accept such an eventuality. You’ve been much in my thoughts since we parted and I wonder, do you think of me as well? If the answer is yes, perhaps a suggestion from you to your father to invite me to view your conservatory would result in the perfect solution for both of us.
Ever yours,
Finn
She shook her head, staring down at the page. It was a
bad
idea. Having him near her would simply remind her of the things she wasn’t to have. She’d spent months dreaming of what her life would be like if she had accepted his
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