The Duke and Miss Christmas Read Online Free PDF

attacking someone who was helping Sybil and then insisting she come home and send help for you? What was going on?”
    Gwen first looked at her oldest sister and then glanced at Lillian, Bonnie, and Sybil, too. This would not be easy to explain, so the least said the better.
    â€œNothing really,” she fibbed. “It was all a mistake that was quickly cleared up when Bray arrived and I found out the gentleman is not Mr. but His Grace.”
    Gasps sounded all around.
    â€œYou struck a duke with a basket?” Louisa asked.
    â€œYou’re in big trouble,” Bonnie declared.
    â€œBut he told me his name was Crispin,” Sybil complained.
    â€œWhat’s going to happen to you?” Lillian asked. “Will you be punished?”
    â€œNo, no. Of course not,” Gwen answered. “I apologized to him and it’s all forgotten, so there’s no need to mention it again. To anyone. Ever.”
    â€œI can’t believe you really hit a duke?” Louisa said. “What could have caused you to do such a thing?”
    Gwen didn’t know if she needed to clarify what had happened or somehow try to defend herself. She really didn’t want to do either. After sucking in a deep breath, she said, “At the time I didn’t know he was a duke. Besides, I didn’t hit him very hard.” That might have been more than a slight prevarication. The scratch under the duke’s eye was more of a wide red scrape and it wasn’t little. “And I wouldn’t have hit him at all if Sybil had not been where she shouldn’t have been and fallen out of that tree,” Gwen said, hoping to take some of the pressure off herself by putting it where it rightly belonged, on Sybil’s slender shoulders.
    â€œYou hit Crispin with the basket hard enough to hurt him,” Sybil argued. “I saw the welt on his cheek and it was big.”
    Every set of eyes in the room went to the broken basket sitting on the night table. Gwen threw her shoulders back. She had to change the subject.
    â€œSybil, he is Your Grace,” Gwen corrected. “You can’t call him Crispin.”
    â€œBut he told me that was his name,” she said. “I don’t have to call Bray Your Grace and he’s a duke.”
    â€œThat is because Bray considers himself your brother,” Louisa added. “He gave you permission to call him Bray. He is family and family members have rights others don’t have.”
    â€œAnd, Bonnie,” Gwen said, turning to her youngest sister, “you must remember that, too, in case you are below stairs and get to meet him when he comes to dinner tonight.”
    More gasps flew around the bed.
    â€œHe’s coming to dinner tonight?” Sybil asked.
    â€œI want to meet him,” Bonnie said.
    â€œMe, too,” Lillian echoed. “I’m happy to call him Your Grace.”
    â€œI will, too,” Bonnie added. “I promise.”
    â€œWell, I guess he’s not too upset with you for striking him if he accepted your invitation to dinner,” Louisa said, giving Gwen a look that said she knew there was more to this story. “It was the least you could do.”
    Gwen could see the wheels of romance turning in Louisa’s mind. Wanting to put a stop to her thinking, Gwen said, “I didn’t invite him. I wouldn’t have. Bray invited him to thank him for helping Sybil. He said you would want him to.”
    â€œAnd he’s right. It’s the polite thing to do.”
    â€œSomeone will have to carry me downstairs so I can thank the duke myself,” Sybil insisted.
    â€œNot tonight, you won’t,” Louisa said. “There will be no going below stairs for you.”
    â€œWhy?” Sybil complained. “I’m the one who met him first.”
    â€œTwo reasons,” Louisa said. “One, you left the house without permission and without anyone knowing. There must be a punishment for