A Very Selwick Christmas by Lauren Willig Read Free Book Online

nothing of it,” he said gallantly. At least, it might have been gallant if he hadn"t meant it quite literally. There really was nothing to think of.
    “Do you mean… that is…” her voice dropped to a breathy whisper. “Are you still carrying on your work, despite it all?”
    Richard felt as though he were stuck in a curious sort of gap in time. If they had to have this conversation, shouldn"t it have been seven years ago? It was entirely irrelevant now. Unless, he thought, she was still caught in the net she had woven for herself, even though, to him, those were all as events from another lifetime.
    He much preferred this lifetime, he realized—even if it did mean a cessation of those cross-Channel activities that even Deirdre"s accidental meddling had failed to end.
    Kindly, but firmly, he said, “Whatever passed between us was over long, long ago. Your conscience should have no qualms about it.”
    “How noble you are,” she said sadly. “How good! If I had known then one half of what I know now…. Oh, Richard!”

    “Well!” said Richard heartily, beating a hasty retreat to the window. “Just look at that snow!”
    Thank goodness for the weather. It was always there, always a proper topic of conversation.
    Nothing forestalled inconvenient displays of emotion quite like a disquisition on climatic conditions.
    “Oh dear,” said Deirdre softly. Richard had once dotingly termed that tone “dulcet”. In his new lexicon, Richard re-labeled it “bloody hard to hear properly”. “It is coming down.”
    “That is what snow does,” Richard agreed, moving purposefully towards the study door.
    “Shall I show you and your mother to your carriage? You must want to get a start on the drive.”
    Deirdre remained remarkably stationary. She looked up at him from under her lashes.
    “Our coachman doesn"t like driving in the snow….”

    Ivy and Intrigue: A Very Selwick Christmas

Chapter Four
    The holly bears a berry, as red as any blood….
    The holly bears a prickle, as sharp as any thorn….
    The holly bears a bark, as bitter as any gall….
    -- “The Holly and the Ivy”
    “You invited her to stay?”
    “It"s just for the one night.” Richard added defensively, “Their coachman doesn"t like to drive in the snow.”
    “Oh, for heaven"s sake!”
    It didn"t help that Richard agreed with her. “Well, what I was supposed to do?” he asked testily. “Fling Deirdre and her aged mother out into the snow?”
    The use of his former beloved"s Christian name had been a tactical error. He could see it in the narrowing of Amy"s blue eyes.
    “No,” she said with dangerous calm. “You were supposed to fling them into their carriage, which is designed to ride through the snow. That"s what carriages are for.”
    Richard scrubbed a hand through his hair. “Not this one apparently.” Letting his breath out in a long sigh, he looped an arm around Amy"s shoulders, pulling her against him. “Why all the fuss? If we were back at Selwick Hall, you would do the same for any other guest who didn"t want to travel. There"s certainly room enough in this old pile.”
    Amy shrugged out of his embrace. “I don"t like the way she forced her way in.”

    “She didn"t exactly batter down the castle gates,” Richard retorted. “My mother invited her.”
    Amy made a grand, sweeping gesture. “Oh, and if your mother invited her, then it must be all right.”
    “What is that supposed to mean?” From the look on Amy"s face, she didn"t know either, but she wasn"t about to admit it. Richard pressed his eyes shut. He wished he knew exactly what they were fighting about. Or was it just that they were clearly bound to fight about something? His two glasses of port—or had it been three—were beginning to catch up with him in a bad way. “Look. There was no way my mother could have not invited Deirdre. She"s a neighbor. We"ve always held open house at Uppington Hall on Christmas Eve.”
    Amy folded her arms across her chest. “Of