A Visit From Sir Nicholas Read Online Free PDF Page B

your success."

    Something akin to pride flooded Nick, coupled with affection for this man he did indeed love as a son loves a father. "Thank you, Uncle."
    "A word of advice, though, before we leave off other subjects altogether and turn our attention to finances. If I may."
    Nick shook his head and straightened. "If I said no, would that stop you?" Frederick grinned. "My boy, it would scarcely slow me down."
    "Very well then. What sage words of wisdom born of your vast years of experience have you for me, Uncle?"
    "Nothing you don't already know, I suspect. Simply keep in mind that any number of women may warm your bed, but it is the rare woman who can warm your heart."
    "Wise words indeed, Uncle, and I shall be wise in turn to remember them." Nick's laughter belied the vague ache in the back of his throat.
    There would indeed be women to warm his bed in the future, but his heart? No. He couldn't imagine anyone ever filling this empty void that currently lingered in the vicinity of his heart. And if his heart was empty, his ambition would fill his life.
    He had found the love of his life and she could never be his. It was a nasty quirk of fate, but there it was. In many ways, Frederick was right about history repeating itself, but the end result would not be the same.
    Nick would make his fortune and add to the wealth and prestige of the Collingsworth name. He would not break another man's heart for the sake of his own.
    And he would not, he would never, be the man his father had been.

Chapter 3
    Holly and ivy, evergreens and all manner of fruits and berries, caught with wide silk and satin ribbons in shades of red and gold and silver, hung in great festoons and massive swags along the grand stairway at Effington House. Every doorway and each window was framed with an overabundance of greenery, as if they were portals not to another room or the out-of-doors but entry to a secret world of magic and joy and all that was Christmas.
    A huge kissing bough hung beneath the chandelier in the foyer that led to the ballroom. While it was not the most discreet spot to share a kiss, Mother insisted it be placed prominently so that friends and acquaintances could embrace publicly in the spirit of the season. There were, of course, bunches of mistletoe hung here and there throughout the house for more private moments or affection, even it rather heartily disapproved, pointing out that he had two daughters and, worse, a son, and mistletoe was not especially conducive to proper behavior. Mother disagreed, and Mother, being Mother, as well as furthermore voicing complete confidence in the character of her offspring, always had her way in such things. And Father, even after long years of marriage, still being thoroughly besotted with his wife, grudgingly allowed her whatever she wished.
    Even the ancient family portraits of long dead and perpetually scowling Effington ancestors lining the walls of the open gallery overlooking the first floor were bedecked with fir branches and ivy and ribbons. If one was particularly fanciful, one might imagine their countenances a bit less forbidding, the suggestion of a smile on their lips, even the hint of a twinkle in their eyes in celebration of the season. Lizzie smiled at the thought and started down the broad double stairway that swept in a gracious curve to the ground floor. It had always struck her as exceedingly odd that those long-ago Effingtons had chosen to be preserved for eternity in such serious expressions. Not at all accurate, given everything she had heard through her life about those who had preceded her; stories of swashbuckling privateers, proud, stubborn women, spies and patriots, lords and ladies and those substantially less than noble, and all sorts of other fascinating characters.
    The great doors to the ballroom were flung open wide, and even the landing at the foot of the stairs was crowded with guests. Laughter and calls of "Merry Christmas" rang out over the sounds of the