Marian's Christmas Wish by Carla Kelly Read Free Book Online

cared enough to offer help.”
    He would have said more, but the door banged open and
Alistair hurtled into the room. “Marian, Cook has summoned us below. You know
what that means.”
    He vanished as quickly as he had come, and Lord
Ingraham blinked in surprise. “Does he do nothing but run about?”
    It was on the tip of her tongue to apologize for
Alistair and his rackety air, to beg forgiveness because the library was cold
and the furnishings shabby, to beg Lord Ingraham’s tolerance of their
eccentricities.
    She did not. “Lord Ingraham, let me put it to you this
way: we are intent upon keeping Christmas this year and the pudding awaits.”
    A smile played about his lips, and the wonder increased
in his eyes but he said nothing.
    “We are all of us singular, my lord.”
    The light in his eyes encouraged her. She took a deep
breath and stood as tall as she could. “Percy announces that we are poorer than
church mice. This could be our last Christmas together in this house. I plan to
enjoy it. You may enjoy it, too, and you had better like wishing on Christmas
pudding and caroling and dragging in the Yule log, and even getting a little
bosky on eggnog.”
    His smile grew wider. “Pray go on, Miss Wynswich. I am
all ears.”
    “Not discernibly,” she replied.
    Alistair darted down the hall again, tugging Ariadne
after him. “Oh, hurry it, Mare. You know Cook won’t wait.”
    Sir William puffed and chugged after Ariadne, but the
effort was too extreme. He abandoned the chase, shrugged to Gilbert Ingraham in
the library door, and let himself back into the gold saloon.
    Marian waited until the saloon door shut. “If you wish
to stand on ceremony, Lord Ingraham, this is not the house to do it in. I am
going to make a wish on our Christmas pudding.”
    She turned to go, but Gilbert Ingraham stopped her,
tucking her arm in his. “I haven’t done this in more years than I care to
claim. Lead on, Miss Wynswich.”
    The kitchen smelled of citron and orange peel, mingled
with sultanas both golden and brown. Alistair loomed over the pot, stirring the
brown mass, his eyes closed, his lips moving. “Done,” he declared, and handed
the wooden paddle to Ariadne. Her face was serious, her eyes troubled, as she
stirred the pudding around and around.
    Percy followed them down the stairs. He saw Lord
Ingraham waiting his turn by the hearth. “Marian, you promised me,” he said in
an undervoice to his little sister.
    Ingraham bowed and released his hold on Marian. “And
she promised me a pudding wish, Percy. I suggest you go next, as I have to
consider the matter further.”
    Marian held her breath and watched as a whole series of
objections paraded across Percy’s face. “Very well,” he said at last, and took
the spoon from Ariadne. He stirred it, his eyes on his little sister. She could
not read his expression, but her heart lightened as she watched him.
    He made his wish, released the spoon, and it stood
upright in the pudding pot. The Wynswiches all said, “Ah!” at the sight of the
pudding well done. With an elaborate bow, Percy turned to his guest. “Lord
Ingraham, it is your turn. Marian will be last because she is still quite out
of my good graces.” He pulled out his pocket watch. “For at least another
fifteen minutes.”
    Marian grabbed his arm, pulled him toward her, and
kissed his cheek. He winked at her, and her heart grew lighter still.
    Lord Ingraham observed the proceedings, a thoughtful
expression on his face. He took the spoon, bent over the pot, and sniffed deep
of the pudding. “My God, this is magnificent,” he murmured. “I close my eyes?”
    “Only if you want your wish to come true.” Ariadne’s
voice was so wistful that Marian’s heart drooped a bit.
    “Oh, I do want it to come true,” Lord Ingraham said. “I
do, above all things.”
    “And you mustn’t tell, at least, until it has come
true. Nobody tells,” explained Alistair. “At least, unless you tickle my
sisters to death