Hollis stepped into the hall. Her heart was beating so hard she could scarcely get a breath. Jack and John were barking furiously at the door.Calm yourself. It’s not him.He would have come by now, he would have sent word. Still, Hollis steeled herself when she reached the door, prepared to let the disappointment settle into her marrow.
She yanked open the door.
“Merry Christmas,” Marek said.
Hollis was breathless.Speechless.She had to stare at him for several minutes, she had to reel her thoughts and hopes back to where they’d been days ago.
He looked down at the two dogs jumping up on his legs.
“Jack! John! Down!” she commanded.
He tilted his head and smiled curiously at her. “May I come in?”
CHAPTER THIRTY
The New Year is thetime for new beginnings, and Lord Iddesleigh might have found one under his Christmas tree. His sister reports that he will offer for a ginger beauty from the north, and no one could be happier than this author.
Word has reached London that Wesloria has invaded the Astasian region in spite of having signed a peace accord. Travelers from the continent have reported unrest in the capital city of St. Edys.
Ladies, the perfect gift for making calls on New Year’s Day is a bit of clover tied with ribbon. Clover is considered good luck if one possesses it at the start of the year.
—Honeycutt’s Gazette of Fashion and Domesticity for Ladies
MAREKDIDN’TREALLYknow what to expect. He’d thought he wouldn’t be able to come at all, not after everything that had happened. But with the king and his family swept away to Windsor, where they would remain until they sailed the next day, and Lord Van disappearing, and with Dromio caught in a tangled web of deceit, Marek had found the time and space to be away. Osiander was leading the charge to have the two ministers, and whoever else was involved, brought to justice. He’d managed to slip away in all the confusion among the Weslorian delegation.
He was prepared to be rebuffed at this door. After all, he’d not been able to send word for nearly three days now. But he needn’t have worried—Hollis grabbed his hand and pulled him inside.
“Who has come?” her father called from the dining room.
Hollis threw her arms around his neck. “Youhave,” she said, her voice rough. “You have come, Marek. I thought you wouldn’t, I thought you’d gone.”
Marek cupped her face with his hands. He didn’t glance down the hall, didn’t remove his hat, didn’t care what he’d feared. He kissed her with desperate longing, and he knew by the way she kissed him back that her longing has been just as desperate.
He lifted his head. “My God, you are beautiful. I came, Hollis. I should have—”
“Mr. Brendan.”
Donovan had appeared in the hall. He glanced back into the dining room. “We have a place for you at the table.” He stepped back inside the room.
Hollis smiled and took his hat from his head. “It’s Christmas supper,” she said. “At least take a meal with us before you...speak.”
How could he deny her? He shoved out of his cloak and let it drop onto a stool behind him. A cat hopped up and curled on top of it. Maybe he ought to hang it, but Hollis was pulling him down the hall and nothing else mattered.
At the door to the dining room, she looped her arm through his. She smiled up at him. “You came, and I amso happyto see you.” And with that, she pulled him into a room full of people. “We have a guest!” she announced with great enthusiasm. She proceeded to introduce Marek to her family. And servants. And two dogs. Everyone in her world was here, and by the look of it, everyone in her family preferred to think of their servants as family.
He heard some of what she said as she introduced him, and something about how they’d met, but she kept turning her head, and he missed half of the introduction. When she’d finished, she beamed up at him.
“Ah. Thank you. Merry Christmas to you all.” He bowed.
At first, no one moved. Everyone at the table had their gazes fixed on him, undoubtedly trying to work out his relationship to Hollis. He didn’t care what they thought—all he cared was that he was here, with her, for either the last time, or hopefully, if he was to have his Christmas wish, the first time.
“Well...perhaps you ought to sit,” Donovan suggested.
“Yes!” the duchess cried. “Yes, sit, sit.” She hopped up and hurried to get a plate.
Someone had put a chair and place setting next to Hollis, and as she filled his plate to nearly overflowing, he politely answered as many questions as he could, even those Hollis had to repeat to him. Yes, he’d come from the Green Hotel, where the Weslorian contingent was packing belongings to be sent to the docks and loaded onto a ship. Yes, it was true the king and his family had moved to Windsor for safety reasons. He believed most Weslorians would sail tomorrow night. He wasn’t certain quite yet when he would voyage home—it depended on a number of things that he was not at liberty to discuss.
No, he couldn’t say what had happened, as he had not been privy to all discussions, but agreed that Wesloria had given more than she ought to have done. Yes, he liked London very much. And then he looked at Hollis and said, “I have found much to admire here.”
