A VERY TUDOR CHRISTMAS Read Online Free PDF

just crack that ice.
    The front doors of Cecil House suddenly banged open, letting in
a blast of icy wind and the loud clatter of a group of young men. It was the
bridegroom, the golden-haired Earl of Oxford, surrounded by his posturing
cronies. Their swords clanked, their furred cloaks swirled, and their laughter
echoed mockingly off the luxurious walls of the bride’s dignified house.
    Robert couldn’t help but feel sorry for young, quiet Anne
Cecil, despite the luster of the title she would soon acquire. He was only glad
Meg had not ended up married to such a one as Oxford and his friends. That she
was still available—if she would only listen to him.
    “Erroll!” Oxford called. “Come to celebrate my nuptials, have
you? Every man should be wed, or so my guardian says. I vow you will be
next....”

Chapter Three
    Meg was lost.
    She held tight to the reins of her horse and tried to peer
through the snow, falling so heavily around her now that the whiteness
disoriented her. She cursed herself for leaving the hunting party, but when she
turned away from them down another path the day was cold and gray but clear. The
snow had come on suddenly, too fast for her to turn around, and she couldn’t
even hear the echo of their laughter in the muffling silence.
    Aye, she was foolish indeed to run away. But when Robert joined
the party, the day had turned all closed-in and confusing. She didn’t want to
see him, to hear his voice, watch his smile, and remember his kisses—remember
what a fool she had once been over him.
    What a fool she could still be, if she let herself.
    She would have left the party and gone back inside the palace,
hidden her ridiculous feelings away in her own chamber, if she hadn’t already
been mounted on her horse. Luckily Bea was too preoccupied with Peter Ellingham
to see Meg’s blushes, and Robert seemed intent on making the too-solemn
bride-to-be Anne Cecil laugh. He was very good at that—making ladies forget
themselves.
    And now Meg was lost, a long way from the palace.
    “This way!” she heard someone shout through the snow. “Meg, can
you hear me?”
    The voice was hoarse, tinged with worry, but Meg knew it was
Robert. She recognized his voice all too well, and her heart pounded at the
sound of it.
    “I—I am here,” she called back. “I fear I am lost.”
    “Just stay where you are! I will find you.”
    Meg took a deep breath and forced herself to stay still.
Running away had got her into this trouble in the first place. At last Robert
appeared out of the whiteness, a figure all in black, his short cloak swirling
around him, his cap tugged low over his brow so she couldn’t see his expression.
He reached out a gloved hand to seize her bridle.
    “I noticed you were missing and feared you had become lost in
the snow,” he said. “I saw a hunting lodge not far from here. It looked empty,
but we can shelter there until the snow ceases.”
    He had come looking for her? The thought made her shiver even
more than the snow. Meg nodded quickly. She didn’t want to be alone with him in
an empty house, forced to face their past with no distractions around them, but
she knew she couldn’t stay where she was. The cold was seeping through her
fur-trimmed riding clothes and into her very skin.
    She swiped away the damp snow from in front of her eyes and
nodded.
    He led her slowly back down the path and over an icy bridge to
where a small, square, dark brick house loomed out of the snow. It was indeed a
hunting lodge, far enough from the city to be quiet, but near enough to be an
easy travel to court. The windows were dark and no smoke curled out of the
chimneys. But a wreath of holly hung on the door, a small sign of the festive
season.
    “Holly,” she said whimsically as Robert helped her down from
her saddle. “My nursemaid used to say fairies would hide under the prickly
leaves to get away from the winter’s cold.”
    “That’s an old tale indeed.” His hands lingered at her