Page 81 of From Rakes to Riches

“Perhaps not Lady Goodall,” he allowed. “Or Lady Anne, as I believe Montgomery might object to it.” Lady Anne had recently married a viscount, and the two of them were happily settled at Montgomery’s country estate near Oxford, but Lord Codswaddle might be perfectly happy to see his wife sent up a tree.

“Husbandsdoseem to object to this sort of thing, don’t they?” Helena let out a theatrical sigh.

“What, to the wives they adore scaling trees and risking their necks so Goodall Abbey can be smothered in kissing balls? They do rather, yes.”

“Oh, but this mistletoe isn’t for Goodall Abbey, my lord. This is for the kissing balls for Hawke’s Run.”

“Hawke’s Run!” He let out a groan. “Don’t tell me Goodall Abbey’s flooded again, and we’re to host the fete this year!” If that was the case, he’d do what he must, of course, but he’d been looking forward to spending a quiet Christmas with just the boys and Helena, especially as Tilly and Euphemia were meant to spend the New Year with them.

“No, these aren’t for the fete at all. We’ve finished all the kissing balls for the fete already. These areprivatekissing balls, my lord, for us, alone.”

“Private kissing balls?” That sounded a great deal more intriguing. “I see. Where do you intend to hang these private kissing balls, my lady?”

“Well, I thought we might start by hanging one over our bed.”

“Thatisa good idea.” He nuzzled her neck, a growl rumbling in his chest. “Anywhere else?”

“Yes. One from the mantel in our bedchamber, and perhaps we should fix one to the bronze lantern in the bathing room, above the bath.”

“Thebath? Dear God.” A low, tortured groan slipped from his lips. “I was wrong. Idogive a damn about kissing balls, after all. Anywhere else?”

“Yes, one last place.”

“Mmm.” He dragged his lips up her neck to her ear. “Where?”

“I think you’ll especially like this idea, my lord.”

He groaned again, his hands tightening around her waist. “Will I? Tell me, then.”

“We must hang one from the rafters in the stables, right over the cat pen. I’d quite like another litter of kittens.”

He paused in his exploration of her neck. “Kittens?”

“Yes, my lord. Kittens,” she said, shaking with suppressed laughter.

“You’re a wicked tease, Lady Hawke.” He chuckled, and pressed a soft kiss behind her ear.

She smiled up at him, her arms stealing around his neck. “How in the world do you ever intend to get us down from this tree?”

“The same way we went up, my lady.” He dropped another kiss on her lips. “One limb at a time.”

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