Read Online Mistletoe Kisses and Yuletide Joy by Jo Beverley - Free Book Online Page A

honestly meaning the words.
    Oh love, how sweet it could be.
    As her beloved sang on, she let her eyes lock with his, creating an impossible fairy moment to treasure all her days.
    As soon as the song ended, however, she leaped up, closed the instrument and moved away from it.
    " We've made a Twelfth Night cake, so you must eat some of it and make a wish." Impulsively, she added, "We really should have punch with it, too."
    " I'll make some," said Pol, jumping up.
    " I'll help," said Ned. "No woman knows how to make punch right."
    " Do you say so?"
    " I do indeed."
    They disappeared, squabbling as lovers do, leaving Kitty alone with Lord Chatterton.
    She shared a smile with him over their charges, but then looked away. She really didn't know how to behave with him these days, or how to react to anything.
    He went to put another log on the fire, then stayed there. He often did that these days, she realized, left her side when they were alone.
    Did he think she'd leap on him?
    Were her feelings obvious?
    In defense, she headed toward the question he'd once promised to answer. "So, my lord. At your family's country seat -- at Oakhurst -- are they celebrating Twelfth Night with punch and cake, and with shots fired around the apple trees?"
    He stood, brushing his hands together. "The tenants doubtless are." His tone was cool.
    " But not your family?"
    " My parents do not approve of pagan rites."
    " And you?" she asked, rather shocked.
    " I find nothing of worth in such things. In fact," he added, almost with bravado, "I detest Christmas."
    " Detest...."
    " Why gape? I took you for a sensible woman. Christmas is merely a plague that comes back every year. If it escapes false sentimentality, it is only to plunge into crude bawdiness."
    " It's a celebration of the birth of Christ!"
    His lips twisted into an unpleasant smile. "With punch, cake, and shots fired around trees? Not to mention Yule logs, holly and mistletoe. It's pagan, Miss Mayhew, and might be slightly more bearable if everyone acknowledged that."
    " It is a blend of many things, my lord, all of them good."
    His brows rose. "What possible good is there in the Lord of Misrule?"
    Kitty had never been in a household that followed the tradition of appointing someone to rule throughout Christmas, forcing others to entertain, or to suffer fanciful punishments. "It is just a game, which surely brings family and friends together in laughter. That is suitable for Christmas."
    " Laughter? Only at other people's embarrassment. If it brings people together, it is in enjoying the humiliation of those they dislike, despise or envy."
    Kitty looked up at him in dismay, fighting tears.
    "I never took you for a sentimental fool," he said harshly. "I suppose you like this new fashion for crèches, too. Simpering plaster madonnas praying over babies that never cry or spit."
    Kitty was too dismayed to tell him that she did like them, very much indeed. It was as if a stranger stood before her.
    She sought refuge is her original question. "But this doesn't explain why you're skulking all alone in your basement, my lord."
    " Does it not? My dear Miss Mayhew, have you ever tried to escape Christmas? The servants insist on it. Street vendors wish you a merry Christmas -- expecting a penny for it, of course. Even my most irreligious friends end up singing sentimental hymns over a wassail bowl."
    Hurt was rapidly turning to anger. "No doubt I have offended you by ordering punch!"
    " I'll endure it as long as you forego the hymns. At least you seem sane in most respects. You have no silly trappings here."
    " Because of mourning. I enjoy Christmas, my lord, and I think it cruel of you to deprive poor Ned of it just to suit your whim."
    His jaw tightened. "I pay him to endure my cruelties. And my damnable interference. Which reminds me that I had better go interrupt whatever is keeping them."
    He stalked out, and Kitty stared at the closed door, shocked and saddened. She had been deceived, for she