O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,178

it would be best if you stayed here until we determine his frame of mind. When he wakes today and discovers he’s been duped, his temper may…” He held up a hand when she tried to argue. “MacIntyre would protect you with his life, I know. But I can keep you both safe without such a noble sacrifice.”

A tear slipped down her cheek. She attempted to hide her face and wipe it away, but another one followed and another.

“Miss Comden! My apologies if I’ve overstepped.”

She shook her head, unable to speak. Her chest tightened and all the fear and resentment of the past weeks came spilling out. Tia hugged her until the sobs subsided, and she hiccupped. Horse feathers!

“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’ve been so frightened, and we had nowhere to turn except MacIntyre.” A handkerchief appeared in front of her. She took it and blew her nose, wondering if it was as red and puffy as her eyes must be.

“So, those are happy tears?” he asked doubtfully.

She nodded.

“She does this all the time.” Tia rolled her eyes. “Cries if she’s happy, if she’s sad, sometimes if she’s really, truly angry.”

“There is nothing wrong with strong emotions.” His lips quirked. “I’m glad I can ease your mind, though I would prefer a smile.”

Etta obliged and sniffed. “Is it proper for us to stay here?”

“As proper as marriage to a cad and imprisoning a lovely young lady to an asylum.”

She giggled. “I suppose you’re right.”

“I moved into the west wing last night. If our secret ever gets out, we never slept under the same roof.” He stood and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “Now, I have some to work to finish this afternoon. However, this evening we shall enjoy some entertainment. I’ve heard our guests can play and sing beautifully.”

Etta grinned, knowing that information had come from their butler. She quickly mouthed the word “music” for Tia and imitated playing a piano. Tia nodded.

“I look forward to it.” He left with a glance over his shoulder that sent Etta’s pulse racing.

Tia poked her sister in the side. “I told you he liked you.”

“He’s a caring and generous man.”

“I’m off to find Jasper and Pup.” She kissed Etta’s cheek and strode from the room. “And I shall behave myself, I promise.”

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. She spoke with Mrs. Willoughby and sat with MacIntyre, reassuring him that all was well.

“He’s a good man,” said the Scot. “Ye ken I’m an astute judge of character. We can trust him.”

“Do you think the lack of chaperones will harm our reputation later?” Etta sighed, wishing society and the wagging tongues were no concern. She didn’t care so much about herself as her sister.

“These are strange times. We’ll do what we must to keep Miss Tia safe.” He patted her hand. “Ye’ve shown courage the past weeks. Yer da would be proud.”

She nodded. “Thank you, MacIntyre. You’ve been my shoulder to lean on for so long. Whatever happens, promise you’ll stay with us if you can.”

“I’ve nowhere else to go, lass.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “Would ye mind reading to me for a wee spell?”

“Of course.” Twenty minutes later, he was sound asleep.

Etta went upstairs to find Tia. As she reached the first landing, she heard a soft humming. It was a female voice. “Tia?” She followed the sound.

It led her to the library. She opened the door and stepped inside. The room was empty, but the shelves of books beckoned to her. “I wonder if there are any romance novels here for Tia,” she said aloud.

“I’m afraid not,” a deep voice answered behind her.

Etta spun around and stumbled into the arms of Dr. Wharren. His hands gripped her waist as she tried catch her balance. She could feel his breath, warm against her cheek, as she turned her head, their faces so close. Her palms flattened against his hard chest as she pushed back, increasing the distance between them.

“My apologies, Miss Comden, but someone was humming—”

She licked her dry lips; his eyes followed the movement of her tongue. Etta suddenly regretted the space that now separated him, wondering what his kiss would feel like. Their eyes locked, and a heat rushed through her body. Horse feathers! Say something.

“I-I heard it too.”

“It wasn’t you, then?” he asked, his gaze finally lifting, his green eyes dark as a pine forest at night. “I couldn’t quite catch the melody, but I swear it sounded like Grandmama.”

“A ghostly tune?” She inspected the room,