O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,77

met, and Selim’s heart swelled with pride in her. The money would never have been accepted outright. A gift as an apology for bad behavior was different. Pride was preserved, and the charity given all the same.

Alice said, “It would give him fresh hope.”

“You will know best how to manage it,” Emma said, perhaps a subtle warning not to entrust it all to her father at once. She stood up. “Merry Christmas, Alice. I’ll see you up at the house.”

Alice smiled. “Merry Christmas to you, miss. And you, sir.”

Only as they left the cottage did Emma breathe a sigh of relief. Selim handed her up on to the trap and gave the horse the other half of the apple, before climbing up beside her and taking the reins. Mrs. Fairnie, Alice, and a gaggle of children waved wildly as they drove away, back toward the main track.

“That was well done,” Selim said warmly.

“I am trying to learn subtlety. Along with unselfishness, though, I think that will be harder.” She glanced at him. “Joe says some of your reasons for rebelling against the Sultan were…unselfish.”

Selim shrugged. “Some of them were. Some of them were sheer ambition. I’m still not sure I would not make a better Sultan.”

“Will you try?”

He shook his head, just a little sadly. “There is no point. I will not tear my country apart and make it poorer, whichever of us might win. I shall be loyal to my cousin and work in his interests wherever he sends me. In my country’s interests.” He glanced at her with a deprecating smile. “Less dashing, more noble.”

After the first shock, and after making things right with Alice and the Fairnies, Emma began to realize she was happy. Because Selim was alive, because he was here, so close to her, they could touch at any moment. Because he still made her laugh and challenged her thoughts on everything. Because he was Selim, and she had never been so physically aware of anyone.

In between each short visit to hand over the Christmas gifts, they talked of everything, much as they had done in the past. Only this time, there seemed greater equality between them. She was just a little older, more mature, with the benefit of two London seasons worth of company, admiration, and culture to boost her confidence. She was not a child in awe of a prince, hanging on his every word. She argued with him, teased him in retaliation, and knew, by his gleaming eyes, that he liked it.

The sun had begun to go down when they finally pointed the tired horse toward home, and the cold had begun to seep through her boots and fur-lined cloak. She knew an urge to settle against him, feel his arm around her—for warmth, obviously. But he did not touch her until they were almost home, and then it was only because the trap bounced over a rut in the road, and he flung out his hand to steady her.

For an instant, she felt the strength behind his firm grip of her arm. Her gaze flew to his, and for once, his eyes were serious. They glanced downward, in the direction of her lips, and butterflies leapt in her stomach.

Then he released her and turned his attention back to the road. But the moment stayed with her, curiously sweet and intimate. His nearness, his movements, the way he handed her down from the trap, all seemed to have new significance. Even if only in her imagination.

Inside, Hazel and the servants were decorating the hall from huge piles of greenery.

“Ah, there you are!” Hazel exclaimed, dropping a handful of pinecones on the mantelpiece. “Let’s have tea and leave everyone else to finish here!”

They trooped upstairs together, Hazel and Emma exchanging news of the people they had met that day. Alice stood aside for them on the landing, and Emma gave her a quick smile, which was as quickly returned.

In the drawing room, Emma’s mother, sister, and brother-in-law awaited tea impatiently. While everyone greeted Selim, Emma hurried up to the fire for warmth and knelt by the hearth. Her nephews and niece rolled over to join her, displaying holly chains and little knots of mistletoe they had made. Joe and John wandered in, arguing about the relative merits of two wines, and John limped over to shake hands with Selim.

By the time the footmen brought in the tea trays, she felt a glow of warmth from the inside as well as out. The family