Page 23 of The Duke Who Saved Christmas
Nana had sewn the ties, for goodness’s sake.
It was fine.
I had faith that it would be fine.
I stopped at the lights and blew out a long breath. I was really missing my home office. I hated working from my bedroom or kicking my grandparents out of any room in the house. Although it was technically mine, I didn’t know if it would ever not be “their” house to me. It was the one they’d had my entire life, and given that they still lived there, it was still theirs.
In my mind, anyway.
Maybe they wouldn’t mind if I stole the formal dining room for the next few weeks.
We never used it anyway, and I’d make sure my stuff was out before Christmas so we could all eat there.
I checked the clock on the car. I had a lot of time before I had to call the caterers, so I took a right into the village instead of going straight home. I wanted another one of those hot chocolates from the café, and Nana had mentioned how gorgeous Beth’s wreaths were from the florist shop, so I would stop by there and buy one for the front door since we didn’t have one.
I parked in one almost overflowing carpark as a chill ran through the air. It’d been a while since I’d really experienced proper snow, but the northern girl in me knew it was coming. I could taste it in the air—there was an iciness to it that said it was imminent.
And not that silly, floaty, dusty stuff we’d had yesterday when I’d been to the tree farm.
This snow would stick.
Maybe not for long and maybe it wouldn’t be enough for a proper snowman, but it would be real, thick flakes.
The warning of what was to come, if you would.
I adjusted my scarf around my neck, tugged my coat zip up a little higher, and trudged across the square to the café. There was no Thomas here today, thankfully, and I ordered my hot chocolate, a second for Beth, plus a big box of fresh cookies that I knew wouldn’t last five minutes.
I was eating the Maltesers one in the car.
Maybe a second one… or a third.
I was hungry, all right?
I looped the handles of the paper café bag over my arm and wandered through the village to Beth’s florist. I’d seen herbeautiful door wreaths when I was in there yesterday going over Hazel’s wreath centrepieces, and I knew exactly which one Nana would love.
Especially after Gramps got his hands on it and made me thread some lights through.
A smile crept across my face, and I looked around at the street with an almost childlike wonder.
Castleton at Christmas really was something to behold, and it got even more intense as you explored. Almost every store had a full-size Christmas tree in their windows. Lights twinkled even though it was still light out, and for every store that had a life-size Santa, there was another with perfectly cut snowflake garlands.
The antique store had a beautiful Christmas village in their window that was more elaborate than the café’s; the clothing store next door had the perfect Christmas outfits on their mannequins; the old sweet shop that took pride in offering classic candies had a sugary display fit for a thousand sweet-toothed elves. The art store and gallery had dainty fairy lights over the art frames that drew your eyes to them, and their brushes and paint sets were tied with little festive bows.
And the toy store…
Well.
That was a… cacophony of colour. That was the nicest way to put it.
I had a headache just looking at it.
I carried on down the uneven path until I reached the little alleyway that housed Beth’s florist shop. It was the cutest thing, and I paused for a moment to enjoy the festive display outside on the flattened cobblestones.
There were tiny fir trees, no bigger than two feet tall, perfectly decorated with the tiniest baubles and a bit of fakesnow. They were surrounded by small wreaths and a couple of Christmassy bouquets.
I pushed the door open, thrilling at the little ting-ting the bell above it did. Beth was behind the counter writing in her order book, and she looked up at me with a beaming smile when she was it was me.
“Sylvie! Is there a problem with the centrepieces?”
