What Happens At Christmas Read Online Free PDF Page A

return.”
    â€œI couldn’t—”
    â€œThe next year, when my first engagement was broken and my heart was shattered, I asked you to come home and help me drown my sorrows.”
    â€œI wasn’t able—”
    â€œAnd two years later, I asked you to come to my wedding and you couldn’t be bothered.”
    â€œBut that was yet another wedding that didn’t take place.”
    â€œIt didn’t take place at the last possible moment. I was very nearly left standing at the altar.” He shook his head in a mournful manner. “I was devastated, you know. I could have used the support or, at the very least, the comforting shoulder of the man I consider my brother—the man who is my dearest friend. But, no, you couldn’t be bothered.”
    â€œCircumstances were such—”
    â€œAnd two years after that, when you had at last amassed the fortune you had worked so hard for, when you were no longer penniless with no prospects—”
    â€œWin.” A warning sounded in Gray’s voice.
    His cousin continued mercilessly. “When she was widowed and the opportunity came to throw it in her face—”
    â€œWin!”
    â€œYou didn’t come home then either.” Win heaved a resigned sigh. “If that couldn’t lure you home, I had no idea what would.” He sipped his brandy. “I’m quite displeased with myself that I didn’t think of this years ago. Father dying.” He chuckled. “He’s entirely too obstinate to die and leave everything in my hands, capable though they may be.”
    â€œI had every intention of returning to England sometime soon.”
    â€œI know.”
    Gray’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”
    â€œThere’s been a tone in your letters these last two years and a vague hint in the year before that. You might not even be aware of it. But I know you as well—no, better than you know yourself.”
    â€œI still have no idea what you are trying to say.”
    â€œYou know exactly what I am trying to say, but as this talk is eleven years in coming . . . eleven years, Gray.” Win shook his head, accusation shaded his eyes.
    Gray stared. “I . . . apologize?”
    â€œAs well you should.” Win got to his feet and circled his cousin. “You left, letting Mother and Father believe you needed to make your fortune on your own because of some sort of obligation to your parents or yourself, that never was entirely clear, although it did sound good.”
    â€œThat’s exactly why I left,” Gray said staunchly.
    â€œIs it? You knew full well Father’s plan was to put you in charge of the family’s business interests, whereas I would handle the estates and properties. I suspect he thought together, as a family, we could, I don’t know, rule the world or something a step below that.”
    â€œYes, well—”
    â€œIt wasn’t a misplaced sense of obligation on his part, and it certainly wasn’t charity, and you know that as well.”
    â€œI suppose, but—”
    â€œBut, instead, you turned your back on your family and allowed a woman who had discarded you for someone with a fortune and title to influence how you lived your life.”
    Gray bristled. “It wasn’t—”
    â€œWasn’t it?” Win’s eyes narrowed. “If I recall correctly, Camille Channing, now Lady Lydingham, the woman you loved, threw you over to marry a much older man with wealth and position. A man who had what you did not. Am I accurate thus far?”
    â€œIn a manner of speaking—”
    â€œAt very nearly the same time, you, who had always seemed a most sensible sort, got it into your head to flee the country and go off and seek your fortune, armed with little more than a modest loan from Father. Again, am I correct?”
    Gray nodded. “Go on.”
    â€œAnd then, when she was widowed and you had made