Starlight Night

The St. Clairs
Christmas Novella

Alexa Aston

© Copyright 2020 by Alexa Aston

Text by Alexa Aston

Cover by Wicked Smart Designs

Dragonblade Publishing, Inc. is an imprint of Kathryn Le Veque Novels, Inc.

P.O. Box 7968

La Verne CA 91750

ceo@dragonbladepublishing.com

Produced in the United States of America

First Edition July 2020

Kindle Edition

Reproduction of any kind except where it pertains to short quotes in relation to advertising or promotion is strictly prohibited.

All Rights Reserved.

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

License Notes:

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook, once purchased, may not be re-sold. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it or borrow it, or it was not purchased for you and given as a gift for your use only, then please return it and purchase your own copy. If this book was purchased on an unauthorized platform, then it is a pirated and/or unauthorized copy and violators will be prosecuted to the full extent of the law. Do not purchase or accept pirated copies. Thank you for respecting the author’s hard work. For subsidiary rights, contact Dragonblade Publishing, Inc.

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Thank you for your support of a small press. At Dragonblade Publishing, we strive to bring you the highest quality Historical Romance from the some of the best authors in the business. Without your support, there is no ‘us’, so we sincerely hope you adore these stories and find some new favorite authors along the way.

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Additional Dragonblade books by Author Alexa Aston

King’s Cousins Series

The Pawn

The Heir

The Bastard

Knights of Honor Series

Word of Honor

Marked by Honor

Code of Honor

Journey to Honor

Heart of Honor

Bold in Honor

Love and Honor

Gift of Honor

Path to Honor

Return to Honor

The St. Clairs Series

Devoted to the Duke

Midnight with the Marquess

Embracing the Earl

Defending the Duke

Suddenly a St. Clair

Starlight Night

Soldiers & Soulmates Series

To Heal an Earl

To Tame a Rogue

To Trust a Duke

To Save a Love

To Win a Widow

The Lyon’s Den Connected World

The Lyon’s Lady Love

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright Page

Publisher’s Note

Additional Dragonblade books by Author Alexa Aston

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

About the Author

‡
Chapter One

London—December 1820

Lucy’s stomach rumbled noisily as she sat on the cold, uneven wooden floor of the boardinghouse. Jem sat to her left. Boy sat on her right. The three children awaited instructions from Driskell. Or rather, Mrs. Driskell. Even at six years of age, it hadn’t taken Lucy long to understand that Mrs. Driskell was the true power in this household. She barked and everyone followed her orders, from her husband to the lowest member of their band of thieves. Mrs. Driskell wasn’t any kinder to the working girls in the house. Lucy still didn’t understand exactly what they did for work but she knew it involved taking their clothes off and making lots of noise.

She could hear the girls hollering sometimes. The men, too, who went into the upstairs rooms with them. Walking down the hallway late at night, Lucy could hear the squeaking of bedsprings and wondered why men paid Mrs. Driskell to let them jump on the beds with naked women. Jem, who was two years older than Lucy, said the men did more than jump on the bed but he wouldn’t tell her exactly what went on. She’d heard Driskell talking about jumping a woman’s bones once but she didn’t see how that might work. Asking Boy was no good. He was ten but never said a word. No one knew his name, which was why he was called Boy. He could understand what was said to him but he couldn’t—or wouldn’t—talk. Jem said Boy’s father had cut out Boy’s tongue but Lucy didn’t believe that because she’d seen Boy stick his tongue out at Mrs. Driskell when the woman’s back was turned once. She’d giggled, something she couldn’t remember doing in a long time. Mrs. Driskell had wheeled and beaten Lucy senseless.

She didn’t even think of giggling anymore.

Driskell came shuffling in, his face red from either the cold or his drinking. Probably both. Lucy knew all about drinking because her papa had sipped strong spirits all day long and far into the night. He’d told her it was because he was sad that her mama and baby brother died. Papa must have loved them very much because he drank an awful lot. Driskell smelled like her father did. When both men drank too much, they went from being happy to sad to downright mean, the liquor spilled the drink down the front of their clothes. Lucy hated the smell of alcohol and how it made men act.

It made her wonder where her father was now. She supposed he had decided he hurt too much to love her and that’s why he’d sold her to Driskell and his wife. Sometimes, Lucy saw her father coming out of a tavern while she and Jem and Boy did their work on the streets. Once, she even thought he saw her but he quickly turned away and she decided she’d been mistaken. Then a few weeks ago, she’d seen him lying at the mouth of an alley. His eyes stared at the sky and he had blood all down his front. She’d hurried away, not telling Jem or Boy that the man was her father and he was now dead. She didn’t really miss him, though. She didn’t miss Mama, either, because she couldn’t remember her. It didn’t matter. Driskell had told her he was her new papa now and Jem and Boy were her brothers. The work they did helped them stay a family.

Even if Lucy knew it was wrong.

Jem and Boy were already living at the boardinghouse when she arrived. Boy had given her a sad smile and a hug after Driskell introduced her. Jem hadn’t been as trusting but he’d come around and now was protective of her. It was Jem who had told her they used to work with another girl, Becky, but she worked upstairs now for Mrs. Driskell. Jem had promised Lucy that when the day came and the Driskells wanted Lucy to work upstairs instead of out on the streets, they would run away together. He told her bad things happened to the girls upstairs and he didn’t want it to happen to Lucy. She asked if Boy could come with them. Jem had said he would think about it.

Mr. and Mrs. Driskell kept whispering and then finally Mrs. Driskell said, “Fine. Just make sure they bring back more than they did last night.”

Lucy’s stomach growled noisily and Mrs. Driskell glared at her. She shrank into herself, trying to become as small as she could. She wanted to say she couldn’t help it. That she was hungry. She was always hungry. The three children never got enough to eat. They supplemented the meager fare they received at the house when they were out on the streets. Stealing an apple from a cart or stall. Digging through the trash for something edible that had been discarded before being totally finished. If they didn’t scrounge, they wouldn’t survive.

“We’re working a new part of town today,” Driskell told them after his wife stormed from the room. “You three are becoming known. It’s time to cover new territory.”

Driskell then put them through their playacting. They had several stories they used, pretending different kinds of situations. All them ended one way—stealing from their mark. Jem had told her they followed the Rule of Three, where three pickpockets ganged up against a single mark. Lucy hadn’t known the name of what they did. She was never the one to do any of the stealing herself. Her role was to distract whatever mark Driskell chose for them. He would follow them along the streets and, by now, they knew every signal he gave, immediately understanding who should be approached and what story should unfold. Sometimes, Lucy would pretend she was lost and begin crying. Or that she’d just been separated from her mother and she was trying to catch up to her. Sometimes, Boy would play her brother and pretend to be hurt as Lucy cried and asked passing strangers for help.

Jem did all the real work. While Lucy and Boy distracted the mark, Jem moved in and took whatever the mark had in his outer coat pocket. Jem dipped his hand into a man’s pocket and kept the pocket open by spreading his fingers wide, then used his forefinger and thumb to retrieve what was of value. At times, he would remove the entire pocketbook itself. Or if a woman was their target, whatever she might carry in her reticule. Driskell told them it was merely a game and how they earned their keep but Lucy had known from the beginning that it was stealing. And that it was wrong. Still, she was just a little girl and a dutiful one who did what she was told. If she didn’t, the Driskells might sell her again, as Papa had. She didn’t want to be separated from Jem or Boy—so she’d do whatever Driskell ordered her to do.

“Go put on your clothes,” the older man barked.

The trio pushed to their feet and went to where Mrs. Driskell kept their special clothes. These were nice outfits and made the children not only blend into the crowd better but made the marks more willing to approach them. If Lucy and her brothers had been dressed in their usual rags, she doubted any of the finely-dressed men and women would give them a second glance, much less stop and offer them help.

She faced away from both boys and Mr. Driskell and lifted her threadbare dress from her body. She could feel Driskell’s eyes bore into her back and she dressed as quickly as she could, pulling on the fine dress, stockings, and shoes and tying the pretty blue cloak strings around her neck. She wished she had gloves because winter had already hit London, bringing a biting cold to the early December air.

They left the boardinghouse, Driskell having told them where they were going. He trailed them at a discreet distance from the other side of the street.

As they walked, Jem took her hand and said, “I think we’re going to need to leave soon. Maybe even tonight.”

“Why?” Lucy asked, wondering what made Jem reach such an important decision.

He frowned. “It’s the way he stares at you, Luce. He didn’t used to do it when you first came last year.” He paused. “It’s the same way he started looking at Becky. Before Mrs. Driskell took her upstairs to work.”

She shuddered, not understanding the situation, only knowing it must be bad if Jem was talking of running away so soon.

“Can Boy come?” she asked and turned to her other brother, who walked beside her, his eyes focused on the path ahead.

Jem shrugged. “If he wants.”

Lucy looked to Boy. “Will you come? Please?”

Boy gave her a sweet smile and nodded. She relaxed, knowing it would be the three of them together.

“We’ll leave tonight,” Jem declared. “I’ve saved a few coins.”

She gasped. “You didn’t! He’ll kill you, Jem.”

“What he doesn’t know—”

“He knows everything!” insisted Lucy. Even as they walked, she sensed fear paralyzing her. “I’m scared, Jem,” she admitted.

“Just do your bit today,” Jem said. “Don’t let on that anything’s different, especially when we finish up.”

Lucy nodded, her faith in the small boy complete. Jem was brave where she wasn’t. She would look to Jem to take care of her in the future. Boy coming along would also help. Their small family could stay together.

The narrow London streets teemed with people and vehicles. They made their way around street sellers whose carts blocked large portions of the sidewalks. Carriages and wagons competed with space as hackney cab drivers cut around them, often dangerously. Hundreds of pedestrians filled the pavement, darting in and out, dashing out into the road when vehicles came to a standstill. Lucy gripped Jem’s hand tightly since the previous evening’s snow had begun to melt, causing the sidewalks to become slippery. At least no fog hung in the air this afternoon. She didn’t like fog. It scared her.

As they walked, people shouted, “Mind! Look ahead!” as they tried to avoid the oncoming traffic. She stepped over everything from broken glass to piles of ashes that had been tossed out onto the sidewalks and streets. Driskell always stressed that they watch where they go, citing a hurt child was a worthless child if he couldn’t earn his keep.

They reached their destination, a corner where heavy traffic piled up and pedestrians were left and right. Jem had already peeled away from them a block earlier, dropping back so as not to be seen with her or Boy. Lucy watched as a nattily-dressed man bumped into another, begging his pardon, all the while lifting the man’s pocketbook from him. She’d learned by watching and seen that the best pickpockets were often the best dressed. People didn’t suspect someone dressed as finely as they were to rob them. Lucy made eye contact with the thief and he winked at her before continuing merrily upon his way.

She looked around and saw the traffic backed up excessively, thanks to several wagons which had stopped to deliver goods at nearby shops. Knowing it was time to ply her trade, Lucy glanced across the street and received Driskell’s instructions through a few gestures he made. She released Boy’s hand and allowed sadness to wash over her. Her eyes began to sting with unshed tears and then she let them spill down her cheeks. She began crying as she turned in a circle.

“Mama! Mama! Where are you?”

She continued shouting for her nonexistent, missing parent and a well-dressed man carrying a beautiful ebony and ivory cane stopped in front of her.

Kneeling, he asked, “What’s wrong, little girl? Have you lost your mother?”

Lucy allowed her bottom lip to thrust out as Driskell had taught her and nodded. “She was here and then she was gone. I had hold of her skirts and then we got separated.”

As she spoke, she watched Jem pass by and double back, barely brushing against the man. Knowing his deft fingers had already accomplished the mission, she cried out, “Mama! There is she is!” and let joy fill her face.

Lucy quickly darted away from the man and blended into the crowd, easily losing the mark because of her height. She sensed Boy following and turned the corner, where she and her brothers regrouped. As always, she was aware of Driskell close by, watching them from a distance.

They wandered the streets for several hours, plying their trade, and then met up with Driskell, who held out a sack. Jem dumped in the afternoon’s haul but Lucy noticed a slight bulge and knew he kept a pocketbook back from Driskell. She glanced at her feet, not wishing to give away what she knew.

It didn’t matter. She heard the danger in Driskell’s tone as he asked, “Is that it?”

“That’s all I got. Better than yesterday and we’ve only been at it a few hours,” Jem said with confidence. “With the opera tonight, we’ll make plenty today.”

“You’re holding back, boy,” Driskell said, his words icy.

Lucy saw him reach for Jem, who darted away. He began running as Driskell gave chase. The older man slipped on the ice and came crashing to the ground, curses pouring from his lips. Jem kept running. She couldn’t help but smile in victory, knowing Jem would get away.

Then the unthinkable happened.

Lucy saw it unfold as if in slow motion. The hansom cab turning the corner too fast. The cart being pushed by its seller. Jem running, looking over his shoulder, not watching where he ran. Then he hit an icy patch and his feet flew out from under him. He collided with the cart, the wares toppling to the ground, scattering apples and pears everywhere. The cab plowing into it.

And Jem screaming.

She tried to race to Jem’s side but fingers tightened around her arm. She glanced and saw Boy holding her back, shaking his head sadly as the horse whinnied and reared, trampling her brother. Lucy broke away from Boy and hurried to Jem, passing Driskell who stood slowly, brushing himself off. She reached the accident and heard an eerie keening.

It came from Jem.

Their gazes met, his eyes filled with agony, blood bubbling from his lips.

“Run,” he croaked and then his eyes glazed over.

Lucy screamed shrilly as she stood. She began running, not caring what direction she went. She saw Boy take off, running left as she went right. She continued moving, an ache swelling inside her.

Jem was dead.

They would never escape. She would be a pickpocket and then do whatever Becky and the other girls did.

No. She wouldn’t. She owed it to Jem to get away. Lucy stopped in her tracks, looking wildly around her. She no longer saw Boy and hoped he had gotten far away. She did, however, see Driskell running toward her, murder in his eyes. She refused to let him catch her. She would never go back to his house. She would rather die begging on the streets than remain with him and his wife, becoming what they made her.

With that, Lucy took off running again. She ran and ran and ran, darting between people. Under carts. Through alleys. She ran until her lungs burned and her legs ached and it felt as if her tears had frozen on her cheeks.

And then Lucy ran some more.

‡
Chapter Two

Luke St. Clair, Earl of Mayfield, opened the door and left Evie’s Bookstore a final time, going to stand in front of the largest window to assess the final display his wife, Caroline, had just completed. Caroline had filled the store with greenery, much as she had their country estate, giving Evie’s a festive air for the holiday season. He studied the window’s contents with a careful eye, knowing Caroline expected his honest opinion.

He motioned for her to switch a couple of items around and then nodded with satisfaction. A beautiful smile lit up her face, first as she gazed at her work and then as she met her husband’s eyes. Love burst inside and shone brightly within him. He’d been blessed with three wonderful children and a fulfilling life with this beautiful, kind, compassionate woman. His wife was his confidant, lover, and best friend. Luke winked at Caroline and she began laughing as he hurried from the chilled air and returned inside.

“You’ve outdone yourself this year,” he said as he embraced her. Lowering his lips to her ear, he added, “And I’m sure you’ll outdo yourself tonight in our bedchamber.”

“Luke St. Clair!” she admonished, trying to keep a proper air of dignity and failing miserably.

Instead, it was Caroline who kissed him, long and deep, the kiss filled with the promise of what would come later that evening. She broke the kiss.

“You’re sure everything looks perfect?” she asked. “I so want it to please Catherine when she arrives tomorrow for her reading.”

“Catherine will be overjoyed at the displays, especially since so many of her books, including her latest release, are presented so prominently,” he replied. “You’ve always had a great eye for detail. Catherine—and the patrons of Evie’s Bookstore—will notice and admire all you’ve done.

Evie’s Bookstore and Tearoom was owned outright by Caroline, a combined business she’d established even before their marriage six years ago. It had become the custom for his sister-in-law, the Duchess of Everton, to come to do a reading for an audience of children and adults each time she published one of her new children’s book. Catherine’s reading of The Kind Caterpillar’s Christmas tomorrow was the reason Luke and Caroline had come to London this time of year and brought their children along. Usually, they remained in the country unless it was the Season.

“Shall we go home?” he asked. “There’s nothing more to be done here.”

Caroline agreed and they went to the waiting carriage. He handed her up and the driver set off for their London townhouse. On the short way there, they discussed what presents they would purchase in London before returning to the country two days from now. This year, they would be spending Christmas at Edgemere, home to his sister, Rachel. The St. Clairs were close-knit siblings and they rotated between their country estates, celebrating Christmas with their entire families each year. Rachel was home with Evan, the Marquess of Merrick, preparing for their visit in ten days’ time, while his brother, Jeremy, had accompanied Catherine and their children to the city for the book reading.

Laurel would have to miss this St. Clair Christmas, though. She and Anthony were awaiting the birth of their second child, which the doctor said was likely to come on Christmas Day. Hudson, her twin, had chosen to go to Linwood during his university holidays in order to be the first St. Clair to meet the new niece or nephew.

When Luke and Caroline arrived at the townhouse, they learned Nanny had already taken their three children to the Everton household to spend the night with Jeremy’s brood. He glanced at the grandfather clock and saw they were due at Jeremy and Catherine’s for dinner within an hour—which gave them plenty of time for what he had in mind. He led his wife to their bedchamber and helped remove Caroline’s cloak, nibbling on her neck.

“You are still a rascal,” she said as she turned to face him, her voice low and husky, bringing a tingling of anticipation to him. Then she frowned.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, ever sensitive to her moods.

“Oh, I forgot my reticule in Walton’s office,” she told him, worrying her bottom lip.

He couldn’t understand why women even carried them, much less why Caroline fretted, especially since they’d be back at Evie’s tomorrow morning. “Do you need it?”

A blush tinting her porcelain cheeks. “Actually, I do. I’d ordered a . . . special book. It came in and I slipped it inside my reticule.”

He captured her waist, his thumbs massaging her ribcage. He loved watching her eyes go large and hearing the hitch in her breath. “How special?”

“It was . . . something I thought . . . we might look at tonight. Together,” she demurred.

He lowered his face until his lips were hovering above hers. “It’s naughty?”

“Yes,” she said, the corners of her mouth turning up. “Rachel told me about it.”

He chuckled. “Leave it to my sister to find something like that.”

“Rachel said it’s very interesting. And there are all kinds of things to . . . try out.”

Luke’s lips touched hers and he took his time leisurely exploring her mouth, enjoying those little noises that came from the back of her throat. He broke the kiss.

“Then I better go back and retrieve it. We’ve only tonight to ourselves to enjoy total peace and quiet until the monsters return tomorrow.”

Caroline swatted him playfully. “They are not,” she protested. “They are the sweetest of children and you love them dearly.”

“I do love them dearly,” he agreed, nuzzling her neck. “And I adore their mama even more.” With a final, swift kiss, he released her. “I’ll be back soon. You can dress for dinner. You know it never takes me long to get ready.”

“Luke?” She grabbed his lapels and gave him a sweet kiss. “Thank you for going.” With a twinkle in her eyes, she added, “I promise more of that when you return.”

“Then I will run the entire way there and back.”

He left the townhouse, not bothering the call for the carriage since traffic had been thick on the way home. They were only a few blocks from Evie’s and he could walk there and back more quickly than if he had the horses brought around again.

Minutes later, he turned the corner and stopped. A little girl stood in front of the largest display window, staring hungrily into the window, as if she wished to gobble up every book inside. As he approached, he saw her blue cloak was of good quality and it concerned him that she was alone at night. Though Mayfair was a safe part of town, he needed to make certain she found her way home. Hopefully, she’d merely wandered a short distance from her mother or father.

“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” he asked as he approached.

She wheeled to face him. He was a large, tall man and probably had frightened her. She looked to be only five or six years old, with large, blue eyes and golden-blond hair. Up close, he thought her too thin, as if she didn’t eat enough. Worry filled him, especially when he observed how quickly she assessed him. The look in her eyes was that of an old soul, one who had seen much.

The girl balled her fists as if she were ready to fight him. Luke held his arms wide, palms open, trying to prove to her that he was no threat.

“My wife owns this bookstore,” he told the child. “Her name is Caroline. I am Luke.”

Though she remained wary of him, her fingers relaxed, and he asked, “Do you like to read books?”

She shrugged and then said, “I’ve never had one.”

Luke’s heart broke hearing those words. Books had been his escape from a father who ignored him.

“I can’t imagine not having books in my life,” he shared. “I’ve traveled all over the world, thanks to reading. Been on adventures to the Far East and Africa. Books have been a friend to me and my entire family.”

He saw the longing on her face and said, “It will be Christmas soon. How about I give you an early present? You could pick out any book you see in the window and it will be yours.”

Her eyes hardened, shocking him. No child should have lived a life that put that kind of look on her face.

“What do you want for it?” she demanded.

“Nothing at all. I’m offering it to you in the spirit of Christmas.”

Her defiance softened. The yearning on her face tore at him. He reached out to take her hand and panic seized her.

“No!” she shouted and ran so swiftly she blended into the dark before he could react.

Pity filled Luke. Though the girl had been dressed decently and appeared to be innocent, instinct told him she was a child of the streets and survived by her wits alone. He wondered if she’d ever had a loving parent in her life. A father or mother who had once kept her safe and warm. Knowing he could do nothing for her now, he unlocked the door and went inside, easily finding where Caroline had left her reticule in Walton’s office. Though tempted to peruse the book, especially if it had pictures, he left it inside the reticule and locked up before walking home. The entire way, he kept an eye out for the blond waif but never saw her. He doubted he ever would again.

They arrived at the Everton townhome and went straight to the drawing room, not bothering with the formality of being announced since they were family. As they entered, it didn’t surprise him to catch his brother and sister-in-law engaged in a passionate embrace. He closed the door, giving Caroline a knowing look, and then loudly cleared his throat.

Jeremy broke the kiss. A blush spread across his wife’s cheeks. Jeremy and Catherine were known by the ton for their fondness for kissing and he asked playfully, “Do you two ever stop?”

Jeremy grinned. “No. Do you?”

Luke laughed. He was happy he and his siblings had found love with their soulmates. Before Caroline, his existence had been a series of empty affairs with mistresses and bored, married wives. Gratitude filled him, knowing how satisfying life was with his beautiful, intelligent wife and their three children. He slipped an arm about Caroline’s waist and pulled her close.

Over dinner, the two couples discussed tomorrow’s reading and what Rachel might have planned for them at Christmas. When dinner ended and it came time for the men to share a glass of port while the ladies retired to the drawing room, Luke made a point of mentioning they wanted to make an early night of it, only to have his brother burst out laughing.

“An early night? You and Caroline probably won’t sleep until dawn,” Jeremy teased.

Luke shrugged nonchalantly. “With our three staying with you tonight, we need to get as much rest as we can, while we can.”

“You’re not hiding anything from us, Brother. Go ahead. Go home. Read the wicked book.”

“You know about that?” he asked.

Catherine laughed. “Where do you think Rachel learned about it?” She gave him a knowing smile.

“Your Grace!” he scolded mockingly. “And here Caroline and I looked up to you as the epitome of propriety.”

Jeremy wrapped his arms around Catherine. “She may look demure as a lamb but my Catherine is a tigress in—”

“Jeremy!” Catherine squeaked. “Enough.” She looked to Caroline for help. “Would you please take your St. Clair home? It’s time we separated these two.”

“With pleasure. Come along, Luke,” Caroline said, slipping her arm through the crook of his. “We’ve got reading to do. Especially since the children will remain with His Grace tonight.”

Jeremy roared with laughter. “That’s it. Leave us with bedlam here. Nine children under our roof. Oh, well, what’s a few more? After we hit four, I barely notice new additions.”

Luke escorted Caroline home and after trying some very interesting things from the book, he finally nestled her in his arms, enjoying the feel of the warm woman who made every day more interesting than the one before. As he drifted off to sleep, though, his last thoughts were of the small child he’d seen peering into Evie’s window, knowing she would never have the happiness he had, wishing he could change just one life for the better.

‡
Chapter Three

In the morning, Luke awoke to a very frisky Caroline, obviously rejuvenated after their night of lovemaking and eager to put to practice things they’d read about in the book. She covered him in kisses. Everywhere. In return, he did the same, making sure she was breathless and panting for him. It led to a rather lengthy time in bed, with both his valet and her maid knocking on the door jointly, pleading with the couple to unlock the door so they could attend to the earl and countess and make them presentable for the appearance at the bookstore.

Luke gathered Caroline to him. “Do we really have to go to Catherine’s reading? Stinch is there. He always has things in hand and they run smoothly. Catherine’s publisher will also be in attendance. And the author herself. I don’t see that we’re really needed.” He kissed her. “I think our time would be more productively spent right here. Reading some more.”

She framed his face in her hands. “You may stay in bed all day if you like but as the owner of Evie’s Bookstore, I plan to attend the reading in support of my visiting author and sister-in-law.”

When she tried to leave the bed, he locked his arms around her. Caroline tried prying his fingers from her but when one was freed, the others only latched on more tightly to her.

“Luke!” she admonished. “Let me out of this bed.” Then a light came to her eyes. “Ah. I know what will get you up and out the door.”

He kissed her throat, feeling the pulse leap at the contact. He cupped her breast, lazily dragging his thumb over the nipple.

“Macaroons!” Caroline declared. “Tea cakes. Sandwiches. Hot scones with clotted cream.”

He released her and she scrambled from the bed, throwing on her dressing gown, her smile triumphant.

“You don’t fight fair, Wife,” he grumbled good-naturedly as he tossed the covers aside and shrugged into his own dressing gown.

“I knew mentioning Mrs. Baker’s and Mrs. Stinch’s baked goods was the only way I could get you there. I can’t help it if you have a sweet tooth, my love. It’s your one weakness in life.”

He pulled her into his arms. “No, sweetheart. You are my one weakness. And my strength.” With that, he released her and patted her bottom fondly.

She tied her sash and pattered to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open.

Luke didn’t know who looked more relieved, her maid or his valet. Without a word, the maid whisked Caroline through the dressing room door to her own bedchamber, which was only used for dressing. All undressing, bed sport, and sleeping took place in this room. He ignored the surly looks his valet gave him as the man shaved and dressed him.

Once he had the valet’s approval, Luke joined his wife downstairs. At this point, they had no time to eat, which suited him. He’d preferred lounging in bed with Caroline and would easily devour enough sweets at the tearoom, which would more than make up for missing breakfast. Their cook tried to press them to stay to eat a few bites but he knew they needed to leave. Caroline would become nervous if they didn’t reach the bookstore soon.

“We’ll eat at the tearoom after the reading,” he promised Cook as he hustled Caroline out the door to their waiting carriage.

Once inside, he kissed her for a good three minutes straight, careful not to muss her hair. In their years together, he’d learned she was up for love play anytime—as long as she didn’t appear in public afterward with undone hair. He saved removing the pins and braids for the times they were alone and would stay that way. No one could say he wasn’t a well-trained husband.

They arrived at the bookstore. A long line already waited outside. Caroline waved to several friends and their children as Mr. Stinch, the manager, unlocked the door and let them slip inside.

“The window displays are lovely, Lady Mayfield,” Stinch praised. “You have a special touch when it comes to design.”

“I’ve learned a lot from Lady Merrick,” Caroline told the older man. “It’s all about balance and catching the eye in a certain manner.”

“Will Lord and Lady Merrick be here today?” their manager asked.

“No,” Luke told him. “They remained in the country, readying for all the St. Clairs and their children to descend upon them for the Christmas holiday.”

“Please give the marquess and marchioness my best,” Stinch said.

By now, Mr. Walton came to greet them. The tidy man served as their accountant for both the bookstore and tearoom. They chatted a few minutes with him, asking about his family and discussing orders for the new year, and then Luke excused himself to go visit with the two masters of all baked goods—Mrs. Stinch and Mrs. Baker. He’d brought the two women to Caroline years ago when she was first starting out and their delicious concoctions had made the tearoom a roaring success. It could be entered from the bookstore itself but also had a separate entrance from the street. Over the years, the tearoom had become a place for London society to come for special occasions, adding to its prestige and that of Evie’s Bookstore, which was now in the top three bookstores and circulating libraries in London.

He made his way through the large archway that connected the bookstore to the tearoom. The tables were being set by Kitty and Daisy, longtime servers, and he greeted them. Kitty had recently wed and Daisy was engaged to be married. He asked about their respective men and then went to the kitchens.

“Lord Mayfield!” exclaimed Mrs. Stinch, a pleased look on her kind face.

He hugged her and then did the same to Mrs. Baker. “It’s grand to see you both.”

“We’ve been adding several new items to the menu,” Mrs. Baker shared. “You can taste them after the reading today and tell us what you think.”

“I think I will adore whatever you put before me,” he declared.

“My guess is you’ll find the toffee cake to your liking,” Mrs. Baker replied. “Mrs. Stinch thinks the chocolate torte will be your favorite, though.”

“I must try both—perhaps several times—before I’ll make a decision,” he said lightheartedly.

Luke returned to the bookstore and beamed when he saw Rachel and Evan had arrived. He kissed his sister’s cheek and shook hands with Merrick.

“What brings you to town?” he asked. “I thought you were busy preparing for the horde to descend upon Edgemere in less than two weeks.”

“Rachel said she’s never missed a reading by Catherine and wasn’t about to start now,” the marquess proclaimed. “We’ve only come for the day and will return home after taking tea with the family.” Evan smiled. “Rachel might be here for Catherine’s reading. I, however, come for the special treats from Mrs. Stinch and Mrs. Baker.”

Luke laughed heartily. “I’ve already learned there’s some creation involving toffee and a chocolate torte we’re to try.”

Evan beamed. “Then I’m doubly glad we decided to come.”

By now, Stinch had opened the doors and floods of people entered Evie’s. Children ran and settled themselves on the rug in front of the lone chair that awaited the Duchess of Everton while mothers and nannies gathered in the rear, gossiping away. More children streamed in and three ran to Luke, latching on to his legs as they cried out for his attention.

“Hello, my lovelies,” he said, kissing all of his children. “Did you have fun with your cousins? I’m sure Delia bossed you around,” referring to his niece who had a will stronger than a prime minister going against members of Parliament.

“I heard that, Uncle Luke,” Delia said, coming to stand before him. “I’m not bossy. Just highly organized and willing to tell people what they need to do.”

He kissed his niece’s forehead. “If women could be generals, then you would lead England’s army, Delia.”

She glowed at his compliment and, for a moment, he stared at the eight-year-old girl. She was named after his grandmother, Cordelia, and he saw more of Cor in Delia as the years progressed. Luke realized that his niece, already pretty, would be a true beauty one day.

Jeremy joined them, looking dapper in gray. He held out his hands. “See? I survived a night with that mob of children. I played hide and seek twice and read two stories before I had to retire from exhaustion.”

“You enjoyed every moment,” Evan said, shaking the duke’s hand. “I’m surprised Catherine’s not with child again.” He paused. “Or is she?”

Jeremy’s brows arched and he shrugged. “We’ll have to wait and see. How are you treating my sister?”

“Extremely well, Your Grace,” Evan replied. “If I didn’t, I believe you mentioned you’d have my head. Actually, Rachel is very content these days. She’s been busy designing a new conservatory for some viscountess. Can’t remember her name. The woman has a love of flowers and more money than she knows what to do with so Rachel is creating a wonderland for her.”

Luke noticed the crowd beginning to quieten and glanced to where Catherine now stood. “It looks as if it’s time to begin,” he told the others.

The three men moved to the side, each finding their children and making sure all were accounted for, as Caroline introduced the Duchess of Everton. Catherine smiled graciously and moved gracefully to the seat, picking up the book resting there and placing it in her lap.

“How many of you are ready for Christmas?” she asked, her eyes bright.

As always, the duchess quickly won over the large group gathered. She opened her latest book and began reading about a very nice caterpillar who wanted to celebrate Christmas every day by being kind to all he encountered. Luke’s gaze met Caroline’s and warmth flooded him. He’d made a wonderful life with her and their children.

Then his thoughts turned once again to the young girl from the previous evening. He wondered where she was now and thought how much she would have enjoyed sitting with these children and listening to Catherine read. Sadness engulfed him. He didn’t know why one small girl had touched his heart so much, only that she had.

And he was determined to find her.

Catherine turned the last page in the book and read the final lines. For a moment, the children in attendance sat mesmerized and then they broke out in enthusiastic applause. Catherine acknowledged their praise with a brief nod before she moved to the author’s table Stinch had set up, where she would sign copies of her books purchased by the adults. Many of the children moved to the play area that had been created especially for these times, filled with books, puzzles, and toys. Luke spent the next hour keeping a watchful eye on his children while visiting with customers, many of them old friends, catching up on the latest gossip since he’d last been in London several months ago.

Finally, the line in front of Catherine evaporated and she rose. That was the signal for the fathers to gather all their children and they followed their wives into the tearoom, where Stinch had reserved space for the three growing families.

Daisy and Kitty brought out numerous trays for the large group, filled with a variety of sandwiches and then all kinds of sweets. Mrs. Baker herself came out from the kitchens, something she rarely did, in order to deliver the chocolate tortes and toffee cakes to the table.

She watched Luke carefully as he bit into the first. The rich taste of chocolate filled his mouth and he groaned.

“Finish all of the torte first,” Mrs. Baker instructed. “Then try the toffee. I’ll bring you more if you wish to sample it.”

“My dear Mrs. Baker,” Jeremy said. “Are you only bringing Lord Mayfield extra sweets? If so, what do I have to do to get in your good graces?”

The older woman blushed. “You may have all you like as well, Your Grace.” She scurried away.

As they ate, Rachel touched his arm. “I hear we need to talk about ponies.”

They kept their voices low so as not to be overheard by any of their children at the two nearby tables and hatched a plan to have ponies delivered to Edgemere so they would be waiting for the older children on Christmas Day. Their plans finalized and all of the food now gone, Luke bid all his relatives goodbye and gathered up his children. Caroline spent a few minutes giving Mr. Stinch last minute instructions since she wouldn’t be seeing him for a few months and then they left Evie’s.

As the carriage pulled away from the bookstore and he balanced his youngest on his lap, Luke caught a glimpse of the young girl from the night before, walking away from the bookstore. When they arrived at the townhouse, he allowed Nanny to take charge of the children and then took his wife’s hand. Leading her to the library, he closed the door.

“I have something to discuss with you,” he said.

Caroline slipped her arms around his neck. “I love a good discussion,” she murmured.

“No, love, I really mean to talk.”

Luke removed her arms and saw the hurt appear on her face. He swept her into his arms and sat in a wing chair, keeping her in his lap. She appeared slightly mollified.

“I want to tell you about someone I met last night when I returned for your reticule.”

With that, he shared with his wife the brief conversation he’d had with the innocent-looking child who had most likely seen far too much for her years.

“I want to help her, Caroline. I’m not sure how. I don’t understand how one little girl has captured my mind and heart so.”

She placed her palm against his cheek. “Because you have a kind heart, my love. Just like Catherine’s sweet little caterpillar.” She kissed him. “We’ll go look for her tonight. After we put the children to bed. And I know exactly what to do when we find her.”

‡
Chapter Four

Lucy didn’t know why she’d returned to the book place today. Maybe it was because of the man she’d talked to last night. He’d been nice and even told her he wanted to give her a book. She’d never held a book before, much less owned one. She didn’t even know how to read. But she’d spent a long time looking at the books in the store’s windows. They had beautiful covers. Some of the books’ pages were open and she could see the pictures inside. Of animals and trees and houses. Green grass and a shining sun. Lucy wished she could climb into the pages of one of those books and then have someone close it. She’d belong inside the book then and would never have to leave.

At first, she’d thought the man wanted something from her. Something bad, like what Jem wouldn’t tell her about. That’s why she ran from him. The more she thought about it, though, she thought maybe she’d misunderstood. Maybe there were nice people in the world and he really did want to give her a book. That’s why she’d returned today. Hoping she might see him and that he would remember who she was and give her a book. He said his wife owned the store. Lucy didn’t know women could own anything. She was curious as to what his wife looked like and if she was as nice as the man. Luke. That was his name.

When she arrived, there had been so many people waiting in a line outside. It ran down the entire block and around the corner. Children everywhere, all dressed in fancy clothes. Their mamas and servants looked after them, also dressed up so nice and pretty. Lucy felt ashamed, knowing her cloak had gotten dirty and her clothes rumpled. She’d slept in an alley last night, her back pressed against the bricks, rats scurrying nearby. The ground was wet, thanks to the melted snow, and she’d sat on her cloak in order to keep her clothes dry. That had gotten it muddy and wet, though, and the slush had seeped through to her dress. Her stockings also had dirt running along the back of them now. She must have stretched her legs out while she slept.

Knowing she didn’t belong with this crowd, she crossed the street and watched. Sure enough, she saw the man climb from a fancy carriage. He helped a beautiful lady from the vehicle and Lucy wondered if she might be his wife. They went inside the book place before everyone else did. She waited and watched as the store finally opened and all those who waited eagerly crowded inside. With the sidewalk in front of the store now empty, she felt brave enough to cross the street and peered inside. She could see all the children sitting in front of a chair. The adults stood talking.

Then a carriage pulled up, the biggest Lucy had ever seen, with a colorful crest on its side. A tall man jumped out and helped a whole bunch of children down. They all ran inside the store as if they knew where they were going and she decided they must come here a lot. Then another beautiful lady stepped from the carriage. The man grabbed her by the waist and swung her down. They looked at each other and smiled. And he kissed her! Right there on the street. Lucy had never seen anyone do that. The man took the woman’s arm and they went inside.

She pressed her nose against the glass and saw the woman go stand by the book lady who owned the place and then she sat in a chair that was in front of all of those children. It looked as if she read the book to all the people inside. Lucy picked out Luke standing to the side with the man who’d kissed the woman and thought how handsome he was. She looked from Luke to the other man and thought that they might be brothers because they looked a lot alike.

Though she couldn’t hear a word being spoken, she watched, fascinated, as the lady sitting down turned the pages. Her face was so animated as she read aloud. Lucy wished someone would read aloud to her. Maybe if Mama hadn’t died, she would’ve read to Lucy.

The lady finished and the children and adults all clapped. Lucy turned away, hungry and feeling lonely. She’d found a few scraps in the trash the night before but her stomach cramped now. Though she knew it was wrong, she wished she knew how to pick a pocket and take just a little bit of money from someone. She’d never done it before and was afraid what would happen to her if she got caught. She wandered down the street and through alleys, picking her way through garbage, finding a few bites here and there. Somehow, she found herself back at the book place again and saw Luke and his family come out of it. They got into a nice carriage and pulled away from the curb. She turned away, sadness washing over her. She would never ride in style like that. Never own a book or wear a pretty dress, no matter how hard she wished.

Lucy walked away, letting the crowd swallow her up, tears streaming down her face.

*

Luke tied Caroline’s cloak about her neck and handed her the muff. She slid her hands inside it and he took her arm.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked. “It’s very cold outside tonight.”

“I’m dressed warmly, darling. And there’s a little girl out there who is cold—and needs us.”

He nodded and opened the front door of the townhome and they set out toward Evie’s. Caroline had insisted they walk, saying it would be easier to spy the girl if they weren’t moving so quickly.

As they turned the corner and crossed the street, he said, “She may not come back. We may be on a fruitless mission and not find her at all.”

“You said you found her gazing into the window last night. And you saw her again today. She’ll be there, Luke. If she isn’t, we’ll come back tomorrow during the day and tomorrow night.”

“We can’t come back every day, Caroline. We’ve got to return home. I’ve business to attend to before we leave for Edgemere and our holiday celebration.”

She smiled at him. “Then we’ll find her before we leave. I know it.”

Bolstered by her calm confidence, Luke led Caroline toward Evie’s, glancing in doorways and across the street as they strolled. They rounded the corner and he halted in his tracks.

“Is that her?” his wife asked.

“Yes,” he said quietly. Afraid she would hear them. Fearing she would run again. Would he chase her down? If he did, would that terrify her? He prayed the girl would not flee, especially seeing he was with his wife and no threat.

As before, she had her nose and palms pressed to the glass of the window, her focus on the books within. They approached without conversing but as they drew near, he called out a soft greeting so as not to startle the child.

“Hello, again.”

The girl jumped back, looking from him to Caroline, alert and watchful, poised on the balls of her feet as if she were ready to spring away at any moment.

“We met last night. I’m Luke and this is my wife, Caroline. Remember, I told you she owns this bookstore and the tearoom.”

The child nodded cautiously. She looked bedraggled now and he knew it was because she’d spent the night out on the streets. Her cloak was filthy. A smudge of dirt rested against her cheek. The neatly braided hair was coming loose. Something had happened. Wherever she usually stayed, she hadn’t gone there last evening. He supposed she’d been out in the elements ever since he’d seen her the previous night and a lump formed in his throat.

“Hello,” Caroline said, her musical voice low and inviting. “My husband told me about meeting you last night and that you like books. What is your name?”

“Lucy.”

Luke noticed she gave no last name and wondered if she even knew what it was.

“Do you live around here?” Caroline asked.

Lucy shrugged.

“Are you hungry?”

A violent shiver shook the child and it took all he had not to gather her in his arms and warm her.

She nodded.

“Well, I think we can go inside and find something for you to eat in the tearoom. Maybe a scone or some biscuits?” Caroline asked.

She pulled away from him and moved slowly toward Lucy, pulling her hands from the muff and offering it to the girl. “Here, put your hands inside to warm them up. It will be hard to hold a macaroon if your fingers are cold.”

Warily, Lucy accepted the muff and jammed her tiny hands inside. Surprise filled her face.

“It’s so soft,” she exclaimed in wonder.

“It is,” Caroline agreed, slipping an arm about the girl and leading her to the door.

Luke quickly produced the key and admitted them to the bookstore. He ushered them toward the arch but then backed off, allowing Lucy to glance at the books as they passed. He exchanged a look with his wife and saw that her heart had also been touched by the too-thin waif.

Leading them to a table after they crossed into the tearoom, he said, “Why don’t the two of you sit here and I’ll make some hot chocolate and find what Mrs. Stinch and Mrs. Baker have left.”

He thought it best to leave Lucy in his wife’s company, thinking the girl might be more comfortable with a woman. He was no stranger to a kitchen, having spent hours with the two bakers in this very kitchen, helping to prepare and sample items to place on the tearoom’s menu.

He put on a kettle to boil and rounded up several sweets before making a sandwich. By then, the water boiled and he mixed in the chocolate. Placing the food on a plate, he set it and the cup and saucer on a tray and delivered it to the homeless child.

She looked at the cup with interest. “What’s this?”

“This, is hot chocolate. And it’s heavenly, I can promise you that. Be careful and only sip it, though. It’s quite hot.”

Lucy took a small sip and sighed. She took a macaroon and ate it. Before they knew it, she began devouring everything on the plate, making quick work of the meal, taking sips of the chocolate to wash it down as she went.

Caroline leaned over and whispered, “She reminds me of Cynthia.”

Cynthia had been Caroline’s only sister. The two had been close until Cynthia’s death many years ago.

A long look passed between them, understanding only the closest of married couples shared. Luke couldn’t save the whole world.

But he and Caroline could save one precious life.

He excused himself and returned to retrieve a book before joining them again. Sitting, he handed the book to Lucy.

“This is The Kind Caterpillar’s Christmas. It was written by my sister-in-law, the Duchess of Everton. It’s yours, Lucy. Forever and ever.”

The girl gazed at it in wonder, her hand stroking the book as if it weren’t quite real.

“Did she read it to the children today?”

Luke realized Lucy must have peered into the windows while the reading occurred.

“She did. The duchess writes all kinds of wonderful books for children and when they are ready for sale, she comes to Evie’s Bookstore and reads them to others.”

Lucy gripped the book tightly. “I saw her. She’s very beautiful.” She looked up from the book to Caroline. “You’re beautiful, too.”

“Thank you,” his wife said, her gaze tender as she looked at Lucy.

“Where is your home, Lucy?” Luke asked quietly.

The little girl’s face tightened. “I don’t have one anymore. The street is my home.”

He strained to keep the shock of her words from registering on his face. It was one thing to suspect it and another to hear his suspicions confirmed. “Do your parents live on the streets with you?” he asked carefully.

“No. Mama died after the baby was born. He died, too.” Her bottom lip quivered. She hugged the book tightly to her.

“And your papa?”

Lucy shrugged.

“You can tell us,” Caroline said, slipping her hand around the girl’s tiny one.

“Papa sold me. He didn’t want me anymore. I saw him in an alley later. He was dead.”

Luke’s gut tightened in anger, knowing what that meant. Anger surged within him, thinking of grown men taking a piece of this child’s innocence from her over and over.

“My new papa, Driskell, taught me to work the streets.” She glanced up at him. “Do you know what a pickpocket is?”

“I do,” he assured her, comprehending that this child had been utilized as a thief and not one used by vile men for other purposes.

She smiled at him sadly, placing the book on the table. “I know stealing’s wrong but my new papa said I had to help Jem do the work. So I would cry and act lost and people would stop to help me. That’s when Jem would pick the mark’s pocket.”

“How long have you and Jem worked for your new papa?” Caroline asked.

“I came last Christmas. Jem . . . Jem’s dead now. He got run over yesterday.” Tears began streaming down Lucy’s face. “I couldn’t do it anymore. With Jem gone, I didn’t want to go work upstairs. Jem said bad things happen to the girls upstairs. I think that’s where Driskell wanted to take me. I didn’t want to go there.”

Lucy began sobbing violently. Luke scooped her up and placed her on his lap, his arms enfolding her. He wanted to protect her from all she’d witnessed. Caroline stood and stroked the girl’s hair, murmuring soothing words. He slipped his hand around Lucy’s and she eventually cried herself out.

“Do you have anywhere left to go, Lucy? Any family at all?” he asked.

When she looked up at him, she shook her head. “No.” The whispered word hung in the air.

Caroline’s hand squeezed his shoulder encouragingly.

“Then you’ll come home with us,” he told the orphan.

An array of emotions crossed the young’s girl’s face. Fear. Excitement. Frustration.

And hope.

“I can help in the kitchen,” she said eagerly. “I’m strong. I can carry things. I learn fast. Driskell said so. Maybe I could learn to be a maid when I’m bigger. Or help—”

Luke cradled the girl’s face. “We don’t want you to come as our servant, Lucy.”

Her face fell. She wriggled away, sliding from his lap. Once again, a mask slipped over her features, making her appear far older than her years. She picked up the book and handed it back to him.

“I can’t take this.”

Lucy turned and began walking away on shaky legs.

“Wait,” Caroline called out.

Luke held his breath as the girl turned, eyeing them with suspicion.

“We don’t want you as a servant, Lucy,” Luke gently explained. “We want you as our daughter.”

Shock rippled through the child, visibly jarring her. She began quivering from head to toe. Caroline closed the gap between them, dropping to her knees and wrapping Lucy in her arms.

“I know it’s hard to trust, Lucy, but I’m asking you to trust us,” his wife said.

“But I saw you,” the girl said. “You have other children. You don’t need me. I’m . . . nobody.”

Her declaration angered Luke and yet touched him deeply at the same time. He joined the two, kneeling beside them.

“You are somebody to us, Lucy. We have enough love in our hearts for another child. We may even have more someday. Right now, though, we hope you’ll want to come home with us and be our little girl. Be a sister to the other children we already have and to those that may follow. What do you say, Lucy? Would you like to be a St. Clair?”

The young girl hesitated a moment and then whispered, “Yes.” She threw her arms around Caroline and then Luke, saying yes over and over.

Luke rose and then helped Caroline to her feet. Laughing, he picked up Lucy and twirled about with her in his arms. Joy filled the child’s face and she joined in his laughter. Her laugh sounded rusty, as if she hadn’t used it in a long time. He promised himself he would make Lucy laugh every day from this one until the last he spent with her. That he would make her believe in life and love.

“You’ll be a part of our family forever and ever,” he told her, reaching for the book and returning it to her. “Christmas isn’t the only time to be kind, just as Catherine’s book says. We must be kind to each other every day.”

Lucy hugged the book to her chest and grew thoughtful. “Do I call you Luke?”

“No,” he said firmly. “I am Papa and Caroline is Mama. And you are our darling Lucy.”

With that, he slipped an arm about his wife’s waist and they left Evie’s Bookstore. He gave Caroline the keys to lock up, not wanting to set his precious Lucy down for even a moment. His children would be surprised with a new addition to their family but Luke knew they would grow to love Lucy as he and Caroline already did.

Luke glanced up into the night. A myriad of stars were scattered across the sky, shining brightly down on London. Caroline slipped her arm through his and they walked down the street, his arms secure about his newest daughter. Lucy relaxed and fell asleep, her soft breath coming evenly.

“Christmas will be upon us soon and a new year will follow,” he told Caroline. “A new life for Lucy St. Clair—and us.”

He paused and gazed down at his wife and kissed her tenderly. “Thank you,” he said. “For having enough love in your heart.”

“Thank you for finding Lucy,” she said. “We are so fortunate, Luke. So blessed. I can’t wait to share her with all of the St. Clairs and show her just how powerful love can be.”

Luke kissed Caroline again. “Once we get Lucy settled tonight, do you think we might find time to read another chapter in our special book?”

Caroline’s smile shone as bright as the stars that looked down upon them.

“We can do more than read, Luke,” she said, mischief in her eyes.

“I was hoping you would say that,” he replied.

THE END

About the Author

Award-winning and international bestselling author Alexa Aston’s historical romances use history as a backdrop to place her characters in extraordinary circumstances, where their intense desire for one another grows into the treasured gift of love.

She is the author of Medieval and Regency romance, including The Knights of Honor, The King’s Cousins, The St Clairs, and The de Wolfes of Esterley Castle.

A native Texan, Alexa lives with her husband in a Dallas suburb, where she eats her fair share of dark chocolate and plots out stories while she walks every morning. She enjoys reading, Netflix binge-watching, and can’t get enough of Survivor, The Crown, or Game of Thrones.

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