A Kiss At Christmastide: Regency Novella (12 page)

“
I
s
your mother still irritated at my skill with pie crusts?” Lucas asked as the final door closed behind them, and they started the walk back to their waiting carriage. “It is a natural talent, I swear.”

Pippa laughed, her cheeks aching from the continuous laughter that had surrounded her and her new husband for most of the day. “My mother is intelligent enough to know that you convinced Cook to give you lessons over the last year.”

“The duchess knows?” Lucas asked, surprised.

Pippa turned a hard stare on him. “Of course, she knows. She knows all that transpires under her roof.”

Pippa and her mother had found much laughter in discovering that Lucas had been slipping Cook extra coin for lessons in baking.

“Does she know of our kiss this morning over our breakfast meal?” He stopped walking and turned to Pippa, his brow raised. “What about our intimate moment in the snow-covered garden after supper last night?”

Pippa swatted his arm at his mocking, wide-eyed look as if they were school-aged youths caught kissing when their tutor's back was turned. “Come now, we are married—respectably wed, but I assure you, the entire house is abuzz with talk of our love match.”

“I am afraid no one in all of England is removed from word of our love.” Lucas winked at her, and they continued walking. “Your father took out a full-page ad in the Post to announce our betrothal. Even my father had to admit he was wrong with pushing me to marry another.”

Pippa looked toward their waiting carriage as she thought of all that had changed in the last year. She was wed to a man most worthy, who cherished her for who she was and never sought to change her. He'd even joined her in delivering gifts to the village children, and helped her mother with the mincemeat pies. The weather was mild for Christmas day, but the ground was blanketed in the snow that'd fallen during the night. She was outfitted in a warm, woolen coat with a matching muff—a gift from her new family, the Marquis and Marchioness of Bowmont. Lucas wore a coat of the same color but tailored in a much manlier pattern.

They'd spent many hours discussing their pasts and what they wanted for their
future
—not futures because they planned to share only one.

They'd even received an invitation to join Natalie and her new husband for dinner when they journeyed to London after their holiday with Pippa's parents.

And to think, it had all been made possible because of a love story Pippa was most familiar with…

“After you, Lady Maddox,” Lucas said, pulling the carriage door open to reveal a small holly wreath complete with a sprig of mistletoe tied high over the top of the carriage ceiling. “What is all this?”

Pippa didn't believe the astonishment in his tone at the sight of the greenery hung so precariously within her family's carriage.

“Will you deny me a kiss, my lady?” he asked when she didn't immediately step into his waiting embrace. “I do not think we should tempt the Christmastide fates by denying them a kiss.”

“I would never dream of denying you—or the fates—anything, my dear lord.”

Without another thought, Pippa stepped into her husband's waiting arms, rose to her tiptoes, and placed her lips against his.

Somewhere in the distance, Pippa heard several female sighs—the village women had gathered to watch the Earl of Maddox claim his Christmastide kiss from his new wife.

C
hristina McKnight is
a book lover turned writer. From a young age, her mother encouraged her to tell her own stories. She's been writing ever since.

C
hristina enjoys
a quiet life in Northern California with her family, her wine, and lots of coffee. Oh, and her books . . . don't forget her books! Most days, she can be found writing, reading, or traveling the great state of California.

• @CMcKnightWriter
  
• ChristinaMcKnightWriter
  

T
here are
several people I'd like to thank for staying with me through the emotional journey of writing this book.

T
o Marc
, my amazing boyfriend, who continues to stand by my side through the utter chaos that is my creative process. Thank you…your love and dedication never ceases to amaze me. I hope to one day be as selfless and compassionate as you are.

T
o Lauren Stewart
, my critique partner and best friend, you pushed me to explore new avenues of thought that I never dreamed possible. If we were in a true relationship, it would be one based on co-dependency, but in a good way. My writing would not be what it is without your comments, criticism, suggestions, and guidance.

I
'd also like
to thank the wonderful women who've supported me in both my writing career and life, including (but not limited to): Debbie Haston, Angie Stanton, Theresa Baer, Roxanne Stellmacher, Laura Cummings, Annalisa Nicole, Dawn Borbon, Suzi Parker, Jennifer Vella, Brandi Johnson, and Latisha Kahn. I know I'm forgetting people…You have all been very patient and wonderfully supportive of my eccentric ways.

A
very special
thank you to my editors, Chelle Olson with Literally Addicted To Detail and Scott Moreland.

P
roofreading done
by Anja with Hour Glass Editing.

C
over art
and wraparound cover design credit to Sweet ‘N Spicy Designs.

F
inally
, thank you for supporting indie authors!