Falling Stars by Loretta Chase Read Free Book Online Page A

assistance of four rambunctious children. The girls were supposed to supervise only, according to Marcus’s stern orders. They couldn’t seem to do so, however, without inspecting every evergreen branch and pricking their fingers on holly. Then they must tumble about in the cart with the boys and crush their fancy bonnets and lose their mittens—and generally turn themselves into dirty little frights, as Marcus unchivalrously told them.
    “What will your mama say?” he asked as he was wrestling Delia’s hideously fussy bonnet back into place for the hundredth time.
    “Off with those dirty things and into the bath!” she shrieked.
    Livy giggled, which made Delia giggle, too, and the boys mocked them, squealing like pigs. Delia instantly dashed off in pursuit of Kit, while Livy went after his brother. The bonnets tumbled askew again, and mittens dropped into the dirt. By the time they returned to the house, ah four children looked as though they’d spent the last month mucking out the stables.
    Leaving Julius and the boys to carry the greenery to the ballroom, Marcus planted Livy on the antique porter’s chair by the door and began tugging off her boots. Delia, as might be expected, couldn’t wait for assistance. She was sitting on the cold floor wrestling with her muddy footwear when Christina entered the vestibule.
    “Good heavens, where did these little ragamuffins come from?” she asked, her voice laced with amusement.
    “A gypsy,” Marcus answered. “He gave me these disorderly creatures in trade for Delia and Livy.”
    “No, no! It’s me, Mama,” Delia cried. “He didn’t give us away.”
    “I’m sure he wishes he did.” She shook her head. “I suppose you’ve been driving Mr. Greyson out of his wits.”
    “Oh, no, we were helping him,” said Livy. She fixed an earnest blue gaze upon Marcus. “We did help, didn’t we?”
    “Certainly,” he said. “I never could have found such lovely boughs without you.” After carefully setting the right boot down next to its mate, he rose and turned to Christina. “I’m afraid we’ve lost a red mitten. I’m told a squirrel made off with it. Also, our bonnets are...” He gestured helplessly at the soiled, mangled bonnets. “I believe the only solution is to burn them. I am sorry. I should have—”
    “Nonsense,” Christina said briskly. “We’ve plenty more. Heaps of them, just waiting to be destroyed.” She stepped nearer to add in a low voice, “The aunts, you know. Unfortunate tastes in millinery, yet they will keep sending the silly things.”
    “I did wonder,” he said, reflexively lowering his own voice to the same conspiratorial pitch. “You’re not at all fussy in your own attire, yet the hats were awash in ribbons and ruffles.”
    Her blue eyes sparkled. “They are ghastly, aren’t they? I dread the arrival of those packages, because the instant the girls don their finery, I want to break out in whoops. One of these days I’m sure to strangle, trying not to.”
    “Mama, you’re telling secrets,” Delia reproached. She bolted upright and grabbed her mother’s hand. “Tell me.”
    “Me, too,” said Livy, scrambling down from the chair. She tugged at Marcus’s cuff. “Tell me what she said, Mr. Greyson.”
    He scooped Livy up on one arm, then held out his other for Delia. With a grin, she released her mother, and let herself be taken up as well.
    “Really, Marcus, you mustn’t,” Christina protested. “They’re too big to be carried.”
    He headed down the hall, obliging her to follow. “I can hardly let them run about the cold floor in their stocking feet.”
    “They’re not nearly as delicate as they appear, I assure you.”
    Ignoring her, he proceeded up the stairs.
    “Tell us the secret,” said Delia.
    He shook his head.
    “Please,” her sister coaxed. “We won’t tell anybody.”
    “Neither will I,” he said. “I’m a very good secret keeper. I shan’t tell your mama’s, just as I shan’t tell