O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,78

which had irritated her last night with their expectations were her fun-loving familiars once more. Love and contentment surrounded her. And only feet away sat Selim, politely swallowing tea in the English manner, though he had persuaded Hazel not to add cream.

He had come back. He wanted to know if she loved him. Her heart beat fast with anticipation, with a new excitement that was both frightening and wonderful.

He and Joe exchanged the kind of banter she remembered from the prince’s last visit. And they talked of some more serious issues, but not for long. Emma listened, observing, and yet part of it all.

I am happy.

When they had finished tea, she and Selim helped the children tie their decorations around the mantelpiece and over the doorway in a perfect finishing touch.

“Excellent,” Hazel approved. “There is just the dining room to decorate now. Could you do that, Emma, or are you too tired?”

“Oh, no, I’d love to,” Emma said eagerly. Hazel was lady here now, but she never forgot that it was Emma’s home, too.

“May I help?” Selim offered.

“Of course,” Emma said at once, “I’ll need you to climb ladders for me.”

This, of course, was not strictly true, for Emma was quite happy hopping up and down ladders, as she proved hanging swathes of greenery around the dining room walls. With a ladder each, they made short work of it.

Selim seemed quite happy to follow her instructions until she leaned precariously from the ladder to join her garland to the one dangling down to the mantel shelf.

“Emma,” he warned, jumping off his own ladder and striding toward her. “Let me…”

The ladder began to tip, and Emma leapt off in an attempt to save herself from crashing down on the hearth. Free of her weight, the ladder righted itself, and she landed not on the floor but in Selim’s arms.

“Miss Sayle,” he said as though surprised to find her there.

His broad chest was hard, his arms firm yet curiously tender. She clutched his lapel in one hand and became fascinated by the shadow of stubble on his jaw, the texture of his firm, half-smiling lips.

“Prince Selim,” she managed. “I believe you might put me down now.”

“I might,” he agreed. Yet it was with aching slowness he lowered her feet to the ground, and his arm remained around her shoulders. His hand, slender and long, brushed her cheek in a soft caress. She leaned into it, her heart hammering.

Slowly, he bent his head, and her stomach dived wildly in anticipation.

“Selim,” she whispered in wonder.

But there were voices outside the room, growing louder, and with a breath of laughter that kissed her lips, he released her, strolling back to the ladder, which he adjusted and began to climb.

Hazel and Joe came into the room with an unexpected visitor.

“Miss Sayle,” the visitor beamed. “It seems I am joining you for Christmas, after all.”

It was habit rather than pleasure that drove her forward, her hand held out. She had to keep the dismay from her voice as she greeted him.

“Lord Davitt. What a pleasant surprise.”

Chapter Four

She had not thought of Davitt once since telling “Selim’s ghost” about him last night. Her whole world had been filled with Selim’s supposed death, and then the man himself. And now Davitt had appeared here without warning, as though already a member of the family.

She could not help the bit of irritation that he was so sure of her, that he paid such scant regard to her right to answer him. Joe might have given him permission to ask, but she had put off answering until after Christmas.

Perhaps he had come to persuade her.

But as soon as he took her hand, bowing over it with his confident smile, she knew with blinding clarity that she could never marry him.

She liked him well enough. But he did not make her pulse race, and did not make her heart sing. Even if marriage with Selim was impossible, she could accept nothing less now.

However, this was hardly the place to give Lord Davitt his answer, so she merely drew her hand free and said, “I did not know you were coming to Sussex.”

“It was a sudden impulse. I could not wait longer to see you. And Lady Sayle has been kind enough to let me stay.”

“Allow me to introduce you to our other guest,” Hazel said. The perfect diplomat’s wife, she gave no clue that the situation might prove awkward. “Selim, this is Lord Davitt, a good friend from London. My lord, Prince