Page 22 of Yule Be Mine

Yule looked lovingly at the remaining kippers and eggs. He was going to have to run the gauntlet anyway and without a proper breakfast. Scooping up one more forkful of kippers, Yule popped them into his mouth quickly, blotted his lips, then rose and followed his cousins from the room. If they could help him sort out this business with Penelope, he’d be happy to forfeit breakfast.

They settled quickly into a corner at the far end, away from the enormous Christmas tree, its fragrant candles in the process of being lit by the footmen. Christmas swirled around Yule, the wax of the candles, the holly, bayberry, and rosemary greenery that surrounded the entire room. The overwhelming essence of home and family engulfed him, making him long to have such a feeling surround him not just at Christmas, but every day of the year.

“All right, Yule…” Julius sat in an oversized armchair, like a king overseeing his subjects. “Why have you not declared yourself for Penelope? You are obviously very attracted to her. She’s extremely eligible and seems to like you.”

“Well, there’s no accounting for taste,” Tom quipped as he plopped himself down on a nearby sofa.

“Tom, you’re not being helpful.” Francis seemed ready to take the lead in the proceedings. “Yule, do you or do you not hold some affection for Penelope?”

“Of course, I do. I’ve always liked her.” But he knew full well what his cousin meant. Did he have romantic feelings for her? That was something he’d scarcely admitted to himself, much less anyone else.

“As much as he’s been kissing her, I’d hope to God he at least liked her.” Tom grinned at Yule, obviously loving every minute of his cousin’s discomfiture.

“That is enough, Tom.” Julius looked threateningly at their youngest and wildest cousin. “We don’t have much time before the others arrive. Yule, confession time. Do you have feelings of a romantic or serious nature toward Penelope? Yes or no.”

“Yes.” He could admit that much at least. He did have romantic feelings toward the dazzling young lady he still thought of as the little girl next door.

“Do you intend to do something about this or will the young lady be fair game for any of the rest of us?” Julius looked at him carefully.

“Hell, if you don’t want to court her, I will.” Tom bounded up from his chair. “She’s the prettiest lady I’ve seen since summer.”

“And Tom’s not the only one who’s interested in her.” Julius crossed his arms over his chest.

“What, now you’re wanting to court Penelope too?” Yule suddenly felt threatened by his favorite cousin. “What about Lady Augusta?”

“Not me, Yule.” His cousin shook his head. “Lord Clavering.”

“That is true, Yule.” Tom’s demeanor had sobered dramatically. “He was mad for her at Kastner’s. Absolutely besotted. Worse than you, if you can believe it.” He glanced at Julius and Francis who nodded gravely.

“It’s true, Yule,” Francis added. “I belong to the gentleman’s club he just joined. The on-dit is he’s about to make an offer for her with Mr. St. Claire. He’s just waiting for the holidays to be over.”

“No!” Yule shot up out of the chair as though he’d been launched from a catapult. He couldn’t let that young whippersnapper swoop in and steal Penelope away from him just like that. Not when he loved her. Lord, he did love Penelope. His body was afire every time he saw her enter a room. His eyes sought her out, wherever she was, whoever she was with. And the thought of never being able to be with her because she was someone else’s wife was absolutely unbearable.

He looked around at his cousins. Every eye was on him.

“I…I do intend to do something.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll go speak to her now.”

A collective sigh of relief went up from his cousins.

“About bloody time,” Tom said under his breath.

Giddy with the thoughts of what he was about to do—declare himself to Penelope St. Claire, the little girl who’d turned into the siren next door—Yule stalked out of the drawing room, heading toward a whole new world. God help him now.

*

Christmas morning haddawned crisp and cold. The windowpane in the room Penelope shared with Charlotte had frost on it. Penelope smiled and blew her breath on the ice-covered pane, then wiped it with the sleeve of her gown. She’d been up for hours, thinking about the kiss Yule had given her last evening before he’d disappeared. Had he known they were under the mistletoe? Or had he done it for a totally different and much more exciting reason?

Oh, but she had to find a pretext for them to call on the duke and duchess before her family left after the new year. They were to travel to Hertfordshire, back to her father’s ancestral estate once the tenant left, and there await the Season in the spring. What she’d do if Yule left town, she simply couldn’t bear to think about.

A knock sounded at the door. “Come in,” she and Charlotte called at the same time. Her sister was having the finishing touches put on her hair for the short trip downstairs to their small Christmas tree, decorated rather sparsely as they’d none of their real Christmas decorations with them. Everything on this year’s Christmas tree had been made by hand or improvised by Penelope and her sister and mother. Papa had insisted it was the loveliest tree imaginable, but he was simply being nice. Perhaps next year, all their Christmas things would be back at their home. What Penelope didn’t want to contemplate was that perhaps next year she’d be celebrating Christmas in her own home with her own husband. The trouble with that vision was that she had no guarantee whatsoever that the husband would be Yule.

“Miss St. Claire, Miss Penelope. Mr. and Mrs. St. Claire are insisting you come downstairs now.” The stern voice of their housekeeper, Mrs. McGraw, came through the stout door loud and clear.

“Yes, Mrs. McGraw,” Charlotte called. “We will be down directly.”

“Do you have any idea what Mama and Papa have gotten for your Christmas present, Charlotte?” Penelope always loved giving and receiving presents on Christmas. She loved anything that made the house feel cozy and festive.

“I’m hoping it’s that pearl necklace I’ve been longing for for my come-out ball in April. It will look so elegant on me, don’t you think?” Charlotte arched her neck, as though the necklace were already lying there waiting to be admired.