Page 122 of The Mistletoe Countess
A month ago, Grace never would have imagined being married to an earl. In fact, she hadn’t planned on being married at all. But just when she’d thought her choice to take her sister’s place would lead to her giving up on her dreams, God had used the unexpected to give her even more. How very clever of Him! She supposed He did have the very best of imaginations, since He had created imaginations from the start.
She’d not only become a wife, but a mother of sorts, even though she couldn’t openly announce Lily as her adopted darling. Grace and Frederick had visited the sweet girl together earlier in the day and brought not only presents but also the grand surprise of bringing Lily and Miss Quinnly into the house once the renovations were complete.
As Frederick tugged Grace close to his side later that evening in their private sitting room, Grace nestled against him, grateful all over again that God had made her husband a wonderful combination of all the things she loved best about fictional heroes. Dashing, intelligent, kind, brave, devoted, and wonderfully roguish—in his own special way. She’d never appreciated lips as much in her life. Her cheeks heated. Lips were wonderful inventions.
And she’d never quite realized how wonderful it was to have a husband who cared about her thoughts and imaginations, but she found it one of his most attractive features of all.
“It seemed everyone enjoyed the gifts we gave them.” She looked up at him from the cocoon of his arms. “Though John didn’t show it, I caught him openingUlysseswhen he thought no one was looking. I knew a fellow Irishman would be tempted by his own countryman’s work.”
Frederick chuckled, his fingers moving through her hair, loosening it with expert skill. He was excellent at misplacing her pins, but the feel of his hands in her hair made it worth every lost one.
“I had much more fun watching you watch them than I did seeing their reaction, I’m afraid.”
She blinked up at him. “What do you mean?”
His palm slid to her cheek, and he captured her chin with his finger and thumb, placing a gentle kiss to her lips. “The sheer pleasure in your face lights up the room more than electric lights ever could. I think half the servants enjoyed watching your joy as much as receiving presents or dancing.” He held her gaze. “You have been the very best gift for Havensbrooke—and for me, my darling.”
Grace nearly melted into his admiration until the wordgiftsurfaced in her comprehension. She pushed out of his arms. “Oh, you haven’t opened your gift yet!”
She dashed to her bedroom and returned with a long package, barely able to contain the laughter bubbling up in her throat. It was unnerving choosing a gift for a man whom she’d only begun to fall desperately in love with. Well, not desperately in love. That sounded rather pathetic. Andthoroughlyin love sounded a bit too pedantic. Hmm. Shamelessly? Yes. Scandalously? Her grin took a decided upswing. Most certainly. Incandescently? Her face warmed. Oh yes.
“I know you said that I was your gift, which was terribly romantic of you, but I feel the very same way about you.” She returned to her seat beside him, the firelight playing across his features and causing his eyes to take on an even softer glow. “To be perfectly honest, I expected an earl-like husband to be rather boring, a little overbearing, and thoroughly, well…proper.”
“I know my heart holds a great number of emotions all the time and my head swirls with uncommon notions, but I do think you are the very best for me, and I can’t imagine loving you more.” She shrugged, hoping he caught her intention. “You’ve been absolutely and deliciously wonderful, Frederick Percy.”
“Except for when I refused your marriage proposal.” His lips twitched. “Or nearly got us killed in the river, or left you at the mercy of my mother, or behaved so idiotically you ran off to my aunt’s house in retaliation, or—”
Grace’s laugh burst out. “You’re deliciously wonderful in all the ways that matter most.” She leaned close and kissed his cheek. “Especially in your long-suffering ability to listen to your wife and in the rather adept way you have in making up after disagreements.”
His gaze took the type of dark turn that incited a wonderful thrill through her body.
Her breath hitched as she pushed the gift forward. “I cannot offer you anything that could remotely equal these enormous affections I have for you, but at least I can give you something special for our very first Christmas together.”
He held her gaze, his expression so tender, she nearly leaned forward and rewarded him with a kiss, but she had the sneaky suspicion that if the kissing started, it might not end for a very long time, and Christmas presents needed to be opened on Christmas, after all.
He tugged at the top wrapping, which soon opened to its contents. His laugh burst out before he sobered and offered her a look through narrowed eyes. “A deerstalker? As if I’m the enigmatic Sherlock?” He placed the hat on his head and raised his brows.
“I don’t think that’s for you.” She swept it off his head, liking his dark waves much better. “And it’s never truly mentioned that he wore that sort of hat often, but I did want to tease you a little.”
He grinned and pulled the next thing from the wrapping, turning the cover around for her view. “Detective Miracle’s Advice to the Amateur Sleuth?”
“Did you know he’d written a book?” She clapped her hands together, smile growing. “After everyone who needed to be arrested was arrested and everyone who needed to give testimony had given testimony, and I was able to get Detective Miracle to myself for a moment before he was swept away by the inspector, I asked him for some suggestions on how I could improve my sleuthing skills, and he told me about his book! Isn’t that convenient?”
“Remarkably.”
“So not only do we have a little practical experience, but we can learn a bit of head knowledge too.” She tapped her head and nodded, her entire body nearly shaking. “And once I learn how to use my new pistol you bought me, think of what a pair we’ll be.”
“I try not to, darling.” His shoulders shook from his internal chuckle. “But I’m glad it makes you happy.”
She rolled her eyes at him and pushed the remainder of the gift deeper into his hold. “Oh, stop teasing and finish opening your gift.”
He sent her one of his rare winks, dousing any annoyance she might have felt at his teasing, and pushed back the last remnants of paper to reveal the pinnacle of the gift she had specifically designed for him. All humor fled from his face as the wrapping revealed more and more of the painting.
“I didn’t use the original letters of your grandparents. I copied them to create the matte for the painting of Havensbrooke because it just felt like they were there too, hugging you and your world through the painting, so to speak.” She grinned to herself as she traced one of the signatures in the paintings’ matte with her finger. “I hope you don’t mind that I used a copy of the letters, only the sweetest parts, of course, but it seemed to reflect their love for you and Havensbrooke so well together.” She pointed at the way the “letters” had been set around the watercolor landscape. “Mr. Poole in the village has a daughter who is excellent at watercolor, and when I asked if she could create a painting of Havensbrooke at sunset, with the glow coming from behind the beautiful stones, she eagerly agreed. The payment probably helped too, but it turned out so well. And you have a spot in your office where it would fit perfectly right over—”
His mouth took hers without warning. He kissed as if he savored her taste, her touch, his fingers trailing from her neck up into her hair, turning her face so his lips had the best access. His caress radiated the tenderest of emotions, slow, lingering, somehow leaving her teary-eyed and swooning at the same time.
“I have no words, Grace.” He leaned his head against hers, fingers playing with strands of her hair as he stared at her. “It is the perfect gift to complete the very best Christmas of my life.”
