The Duke and Miss Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

case, I accept. I wouldn’t want to disappoint your duchess.”
    â€œNeither would I. Arrive about half past five. We dine early and don’t make a late night of it.” Bray motioned to his servant and the man walked the Duke of Hurst’s horse over to him.
    The duke handed the broken basket of cuttings to Gwen. “Would you see Miss Sybil gets these for me?”
    Gwen looked at the basket, tempted to refuse him. Finally, she nodded and took the basket.
    He then grabbed hold of the reins and mounted. Looking down at Gwen, he said, “Until this evening, Miss Christmas.”

Chapter 3
    Gwen walked through the front door at Drakestone clutching the small container of cuttings in one hand and untying the sash of her cape with the other. She’d hurried away from Bray, in hopes of not having to answer any more questions about what had happened between her and the duke. After His Grace had left, Bray had quizzed her before they started home, but the only thing she’d fessed up to was that she had mistakenly hit the duke, and she’d admitted that only under duress. Their subsequent encounter on the ground was none of Bray’s concern.
    Or anyone’s. As far as she was concerned, that would remain private forever. She hoped the duke felt the same way. Besides, what could she have told Bray? She was still trying to figure out for herself why for a few fleeting seconds she’d wanted the rake to kiss her. And why, when she’d told him no, he hadn’t tried to force a kiss on her, which was more than she could say for Mr. Standish. And why, even now, just thinking about the weight of the duke’s body on hers made her feel warm and tingly.
    She dropped her cape on a side table and rushed up the stairs and down the corridor to Sybil’s room. Sybil sat on the bed dressed in a white night garment, leaning against what looked to be a mountain of pillows, surrounded by their three blue-eyed, blond-haired sisters. Louisa, the oldest and who was married to Bray, sat on the bed beside her. Lillian, who had just turned sixteen, was sitting on the foot of the bed and Bonnie, the youngest at seven, stood beside her.
    â€œSybil, I was so worried about you,” Gwen said, walking into the room. “Don’t ever leave this house without someone knowing again.” She placed the basket on the night table and gave her sister a long, gentle hug.
    â€œThank you for bringing the holly and mistletoe,” Sybil said, “but I don’t think I’m going to be able to decorate the house now. I fell and hurt my knee.”
    â€œI heard,” Gwen said, suddenly feeling wretched. “How is your leg feeling now?”
    â€œIt hurts,” she answered. “Do you want to see it?”
    â€œYes, of course.”
    â€œDon’t touch it,” Sybil said, pushing the covers aside and pulling her gown up to mid-thigh.
    The knee and ankle were definitely swollen.
    â€œWhat happened?”
    Sybil looked at Louisa. “Do I have to tell the story again?”
    Louisa smiled. “No, I’ll tell her everything later. I think you’ve told the story enough times for one day.”
    Gwen put her hands on her hips. “And I think I should know right now since I’m the one who went out into the cold this morning to look for you.” She could have added that because of it she had also suffered greatly the stinging agony and the seductive thrills of meeting the disarming Duke of Hurst.
    But she had no desire to reveal that to anyone.
    â€œYou were the one out looking for her because you like to get up earlier than the rest of us,” Lillian argued.
    â€œI’m glad you brought my basket home, but it looks like you broke it when you hit that gentleman on the head with it.”
    Gwen glanced at the basket and grimaced. “I’ll make sure you get another.”
    â€œYes.” Louisa added inquisitively, “What is this about you