All I Want for Christmas Is a Duke Read Online Free PDF Page B

more somber. “I rather loathe knowing that your living conditions are similar to hers. I haven’t been able to sleep knowing it.”
    She shrugged. “I’m more than used to it. In fact, it’s been quite liberating. I set my own hours and lead my own life. One room and enough to eat and clothe myself with is all I need.”
    He leaned in. “I’m here to help you, Jane. And I ask that you let me. Much like my aunt, you shouldn’t be living the way you are.”
    His words made her fingers tighten around her reticule. “You needn’t worry about me, Martin, I—”
    A freckled boy nudged in between them, making them both pause. The boy grinned crookedly up at them from beneath a lopsided wool cap that was gathering snow. “Evening. I hope you don’t mind, but I have a duty to perform.”
    She blinked down at the boy. “Duty? What duty?”
    “This duty.” With the quick swing of a hammer, the youth nailed her skirts against the shop with a long nail. “In honor of Twelfth Night, miss, I thee bless.”
    A gasp escaped her as she tried to turn but her gown near the base of her thigh was firmly nailed into place against the wood façade of the shop. Of all the— “Twelfth Night? It isn’t even January yet!” she exclaimed in exasperation.
    Martin jumped to grab the youth by the collar, but the boy scrambled out of reach with a gargled laugh and yelled back at them at the top of his voice, “Don’t get buried in the snow!”
    Triumphantly waving his hammer about in the air, the boy disappeared down the pavement of heavily gathering snow, skidding and sliding along a trail with his boots.
    Jane huffed out a breath. The nailing of unsuspecting victims against shop windows had officially begun. And it wasn’t even Twelfth Night yet. Thank God. Every year, when Twelfth Night made its appearance, she stayed at home and bolted the door lest something like this happen or someone die. “Do you boys ever grow up?” she grouched.
    Martin turned and quirked a dark brow from beneath his top hat. “Consider it a compliment. He didn’t bother to nail my coattails. I feel rather left out.”
    Jane rolled her eyes and leaned down toward the nail, trying to tug it loose from her bundled gown. Only it wouldn’t budge. The nail had been struck all the way through her petticoats. She tugged on her skirts harder and even tried to step away, but the nail held her stubbornly in place. “Lovely. Absolutely lovely. It appears I’m now part of the confectionary display. All I need is sprinkled sugar and a bit of marzipan. And who knows, maybe I’ll sell for fifteen shillings.”
    He coughed out a rough laugh. “Surely you’re worth at least twenty.”
    “Funny, that.” She gestured toward her skirts. “Might you assist, please? Instead of laughing? I’m permanently adhered and it’s cold.”
    His amused expression faded. “Of course. Allow me.” He hesitated, then squatted beside her and stripped his gloves, tucking them into his coat pocket. He hesitated again, as if strategizing, then dug his fingers against the crooked nail embedded into her skirts. With pinched brows, he commenced wiggling it loose. “Fortunately, it didn’t go flat into the wood.” He bent closer toward her, his broad shoulders leaning in even closer, bumping into her thigh. He pushed aside her skirts. “Pardon my hands.”
    Men and women paused to watch them as snow fluttered down.
    She bit her cold lip, trying to pretend she couldn’t feel that probing touch as he continued to repeatedly graze her skirts and her thigh in an effort to remove the nail.
    His one hand suddenly tightened around her calf, those large fingers possessively molding against it. They slid up.
    Her eyes widened. She glanced down at him, her heart pounding in a way it hadn’t pounded in years.
    Though he was working diligently to pry the nail out, and his hand was innocently anchoring him, he kept glancing toward her exposed wool stocking, which peered out from beneath her