O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,172

and pulled on his gloves. A pair of chestnut horses snorted softly and pawed at the ground, their wide rumps covered in snow.

Gus climbed inside, glad to be out of the cold wind. Coming home, for it was his home now, had been the right decision. He thought of the work ahead of him as the carriage swayed and bumped along the familiar road. There were purchases and repairs to be made, but the mansion and grounds were in decent shape.

They slowed at a fork in the road. A right turn took them directly to Bliss. The opposite went through the village. As the driver headed toward the manor, the clouds parted momentarily. Something flashed silver. He squinted at the dark outline of a carriage perched alongside the other path. Then the moon disappeared once again.

“Johns, stop,” he yelled, opening the wooden shutter to stick his head out. “I think someone might be in trouble.”

The driver expertly turned the brougham around. “I don’t see anything, sir.”

“I want to be certain. It’s a nasty night for someone to be stranded.”

They found a small conveyance not far down the road, tilted with a broken wheel.

“Whoa, there, whoa.” Johns held his lantern high.

Gus jumped out as soon as the wheels crunched to a stop. “Hello!”

A young girl with blonde curls, bright cerulean eyes, and a dazzling smile popped her head out. “We’ve been rescued!” The door swung open, and a petite female waved, a velvet reticule dangling from her wrist. With each gesture, the carriage wheels creaked and wobbled.

“Careful, miss,” Gus said with a smile. “You’re in a precarious spot.”

“A pot of what?” she asked. A small gloved hand pulled on her cloak from behind and she looked over her shoulder, nodded, and turned back to him. “Oh, yes!” she giggled. “Precarious, indeed!”

The shutter opened again, and another face appeared. Gus tried to swallow, mesmerized by the loveliest eyes he’d ever seen. Large and golden-brown, they held his gaze and made his mouth go dry. Her dark bonnet was tipped sideways and a long sable tress fell over her shoulder. The accident must have been jarring. When she smiled, tiny dimples appeared at the corners of her mouth; her full lips revealed straight white teeth.

“I will have to agree with my sister, good sir. You are a hero, indeed,” said the stunning creature in a honeyed voice. “Our, er, driver has gone ahead on foot for help. He thought we’d be safer inside while we waited.”

“Wise man,” agreed Gus, finding his voice. “Johns, see to the trunks. I’ll tend to the ladies.”

The door was a good distance from the ground due to the broken wheel on the opposite side. He held up his hands to assist the younger girl just as she jumped toward him. He caught her with a hmmph as his hat tumbled off. He set her on her feet and grinned at her high-pealed giggle. “Aren’t you a vivacious young lady?”

“That’s a very polite way to say obnoxious,” the beauty said, drawing out the pronunciation of the last word.

The blonde stuck her tongue out at her sister. Gus laughed and retrieved his hat, then moved to help the other sister. He placed his hands on her tiny waist while she lightly gripped his shoulders. He lifted her from the door and slowly set her down. As he did, the clouds parted again, illuminating her face. Creamy ivory skin, a pert nose, and those eyes flashing like faceted amber.

Bloody hell, he wanted to kiss her.

He didn’t even know her name.

“Thank you, kind sir.” Her cheeks colored, and she peeked at him through thick, dark lashes. One hand touched her hat and she gasped. “Oh, my. We must look a fright!”

“You’re lovely.” Gus closed his eyes, resisting the urge to smack himself in the forehead. He had not meant to say the words out loud. “I mean, Dr. Augustus Wharren at your service, ma’am.”

She smiled. His heart melted.

“I am Miss Henrietta Comden, and this is my sister, Miss Horatia,” she said, her head tipped toward the precocious imp whose eyes darted from one adult to the other.

“Tia, please,” the girl added, pointing to herself and then her sister, “and Etta.”

Miss Comden sent a warning glare to Tia. “My sister does not always follow proper etiquette. You’ll have to excuse her manners.”

“These are rather unusual circumstances.” He saw Johns lugging a large trunk. “How far is your destination? Perhaps we can take you there.”

“Oh, I’m afraid our journey ends in Scotland. We planned