Page 53 of The Secret Mistletoe Promise
‘What was that?’ She sounded breathless, just like she’d been trying to make Catherine Morland sound, but this was all her.
Dexter looked more confused than scared. ‘I don’t know.’ He held her gaze for a moment, then looked past her, out to the corridor.
‘We’re going to have to find out, aren’t we?’
‘I am.’ Dexter gave her a gentle smile. ‘You can stay here with Artichoke.’ He paused, as if he was weighing things up, then leaned in and kissed her on the nose. He dropped his hand from her waist and turned away. ‘I won’t be long,’ he added, but he was already striding out of the room, as if he regretted the moment of affection.
‘I’m coming!’ Imogen couldn’t let him go off alone to investigate a rogue sound, especially not if he was feeling bad about them getting close. What if it was an intruder or a wild animal or aghost? He had offered to protect her, and the least she could do was return the favour. She scooped up a still snoozing Artichoke and went to join him.
‘You sure about this?’ he asked.
‘Absolutely. Lead the way.’
Together, they left the cosy lounge behind and headed into the cold, dark corridor.
Chapter Twenty
‘Ithink it’s coming from the cellar.’
They were standing in the hall, staring at the shimmering Christmas tree, listening to the bangs that sounded like they were coming from behind and below it.
‘The door’s behind the tree?’ Artichoke had woken up and was sitting in the cradle of Imogen’s arms, her ears pricked.
‘Yup.’
‘We could legitimately say we couldn’t get to it, then.’
‘Except that I’m supposed to be keeping an eye on the place, and what if that’s the sound of the boiler breaking, and it’s going to explode?’
‘Then we should call a boiler expert.’
‘But I need to check it out first, because it could be something innocuous, something that’s fallen over and there’s some sort of momentum that explains the constant banging.’
‘Or it could be a ghost. This placemusthave ghosts.’ Artichoke whimpered and Imogen shivered, and Dexter puthis arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his warm, solid body.
‘You’ll fit right in here if you keep going on about ghosts,’ he said softly. ‘Supposedly, everywhere in Mistingham is haunted. The old bookshop has the spookiest reputation, except that Fiona and Sophie went in there to track down a noise last November, and discovered it was Jazz, who’d broken in and was staying there.’
‘She was homeless?’
‘Yeah. She’s found a permanent home here now, though. And Sophie spent years moving from place to place before she fell for Harry and decided to settle in the village.’
‘Oh.’ There was a long, heavy silence, broken only by the low banging that didn’t seem to want to give up. ‘So we could go down there and find someone using it as a shelter? It is getting really cold out, now.’
‘We could.’ Dexter sounded entirely unfazed. ‘But I don’t think there’s another way into the cellar, and the front doors are impenetrable when they’re locked.’
‘So we’re back to a ghost.’
‘Possibly. You don’t have to come with me.’
‘We’re in this together. We’re taking advantage of Sophie and Harry’s house, and I can’t enjoy the fire and the cosy lounge and then leave you to deal with the hauntings.’
‘Seems like you’ve picked an appropriate scene for us to act out, considering all this.’ He pulled her more firmly against him. ‘And about before, when—’
‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘We are not doing apologies. Let’s sort out the ghost, then we can … I don’t know, talk about your highly inappropriate nose kiss?’
‘OK.’ He smiled and dropped his arm. ‘Let’s leaveArtichoke here.’ He took the dog from Imogen’s arms and put her on a chair, then tied her lead to one of the legs. He crouched down, whispering words to his puppy that Imogen couldn’t hear, then joined her. ‘Ready?’
‘Ready,’ Imogen said, then tried to hide her delight when he took her hand and they crept around the edge of the Christmas tree together. She saw a low door nestled in the panelling beneath the stairs, half-hidden behind the baubles and branches. She realized she had held hands with Dexter more in the last few weeks than she’d done with Edmund in two years.
