His For Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page B

pain in her heart.
    She felt the cool metal of hairpins against her scalp as the housekeeper gathered her hair around into a bun.
    “No, no one at all. He doesn’t seem to be interested. Of course, it doesn’t stop any of the eligible girls and some who are spoken for, striking up a conversation with him. Silly girls. You’d think they’d realize a man isn’t drawn to silly chatter.”
    Weren’t they?
    That certainly hadn’t been the case as she watched acquaintance after acquaintance laugh, chatter and giggle their way into a wedding. “Perhaps Mr. Whitley is in the middle of a grand love affair.”
    The housekeeper guffawed and patted her on the back. “A grand love affair? Him? Perhaps with his ledgers and contracts, but certainly not with any girl I’ve seen. There, you’re all done now.”
    Certainly, her hair was out of her face and cautiously, Ivy raised up a hand to pat the back of her still-damp hair. A complex system of coils and braids was evident to her fingertips, and she turned her head to and fro, testing to see if the hairpins and ribbons would stay. They were quite firm and she touched the back of her bared neck, feeling almost uncomfortably exposed. “It’s wonderful. Thank you, Mrs. Chang.”
    The woman laughed as she stowed the stool back next to the large fireplace. “Not at all. It’s good to know I can still do hair. When I was young, I used to be a lady’s maid. Did her hair, took care of her gowns, made sure she was awake before nine every morning.”
    “Do you miss it?”
    “I do not,” she said, shaking her head. “Margaret was a spoiled little brat who was never refused anything. She ran away with a good-for-nothing wastrel and last I heard, she had died from a difficult childbirth.”
    What was one to say to such a statement? “I’m sorry to hear that.”
    Mr. Whitley and Timothy arrived not a moment then, stamping snow from their shoes as they shed their coats and mufflers much caked with snow, and Ivy shivered at the memory of being out in such weather.
    She went to assist Timothy as he struggled with a woolen muffler that seemed quite intent on strangling him.
    Best not to think, and simply give thanks for the present.
     

Chapter Three
     
     
    For the third time since Elliot bumped his knee into a dining chair and subsequently slipped into it, he missed his mouth and ended up with yet another spoonful of stew in his lap.
    Luckily, he had enough sense to place a napkin there, otherwise Mrs. Chang would’ve used his intestines for a clothesline.
    He watched the girl make conversation with the other two people at the table.
    Wait. No.
    Girl was wrong.
    Woman.
    There was a beautiful woman sitting across from him, her eyes glowing in the candlelight, and Elliot Whitley couldn't remember the last time he felt like such a staring idiot.
    For the fourth time, he missed his spoon, but mercifully it only skimmed his cheek.
    The angel sitting across from him cast a glance in his direction, dabbing at her crimson lips.
    “Mr. Whitley?”
    He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the spell she had cast over him. “Yes.”
    The girl, no, woman, put down her spoon carefully and observed him across the table in those curiously tip-tilted eyes. “Are you quite all right? You look pale.”
    “I'm fine,” he muttered. “Nothing's wrong with me. Mrs. Chang, the stew is, as always, mouthwatering.”
    The housekeeper looked as though she was having a difficult time maintaining her decorum at the dinner table. “Thank you for the compliment, Mr. Whitley, but quite personally, I would consider it an even greater compliment if you deigned to get more than half of it in your mouth, rather than in your lap.”
    “If I did that, I would get scolded,” said Timothy, with something akin to wonder. “I can't wait to be an adult. Adults don't get yelled at for wasting food. I want to be one. I would want to be one as soon as I could!”
    “Wouldn't you?” replied Ivy. “There are