A Yuletide Invitation: The Mistletoe Wager / The Harlot's Daughter. Christine Merrill

Harry said firmly. ‘For I would not wish you to be alone. And I hope Christmas will be very much as you remember it.’ He glanced down the hill towards the house. ‘You have brought many changes to Anneslea since we married.’

      ‘Really?’ She looked surprised, as though she did not realise the merriment she’d brought with her when she’d come into his life. ‘Was not Christmas a joyous time when you were a boy?’

      He shrugged. ‘Much like any other day. When I was small my father was often ill, and there was little cause for celebration. My stepfather, Morley, did not hold with foolishness on a holy day. And once I came here, to stay with Grandfather?’ He shrugged again. ‘It was a very quiet festival. There was dinner, of course. And gifts.’ They had arrived back at the house. A footman grinned as he opened the front door, and they entered the front hall to the smells of pine and spices and an air of suppressed excitement. He looked around him. ‘But it was nothing like this. Thank you.’ His voice very nearly cracked on the words.

      ‘You’re welcome, Harry.’ Her eyes were very round, and misty blue in the morning light. Then she looked away from him quickly, letting a servant take her outer clothes and enquiring about tea, which was already poured in the library, just as it had been in years past. It was still early, but any guests who had risen would be in the dining room taking breakfast. For a time it would be just the two of them, alone together.

      In the library, she glanced around the room with a critical eye. And Harry noted with some satisfaction that she seemed unconcerned by the presence of only two cups on the tea tray. Apparently, after his disgrace in the woods, she did not care that Tremaine would be left to fend for himself.

      ‘Do you mean to have Rosalind here for Christmas from now on?’ she said softly.

      ‘It depends, I suppose, on whether Morley allows it. But I do not know what I would have done without her help this year.’

      Elise looked up from her cup, her eyes still wide with sympathy. ‘Does she know that the family recipes as they are written are not accurate?’

      ‘Eh?’

      ‘Rosalind. There are changes in the Christmas recipes, and she should remember to remind Cook.’

      Harry waved a dismissive hand. ‘I expect she will manage as best she can. It will be all right.’

      ‘Perhaps I should help her.’

      ‘No,’ Harry said, worried that her sudden interest in the menu was likely to take her away from him again. ‘There is no need, I’m sure. No one will notice if things are not quite up to standard.’

      She stared at him. ‘Really, Harry. You have no idea how difficult a house party can be.’

      He looked warmly at her. ‘Only because you made it look so easy, my sweet. But you need not bother.’ He gave a slight sigh. ‘I will want you here tonight, of course. When it is time to light the Yule Log. For it is still very much a part of you, since you helped me to choose it. And I’ve still got a piece of last year’s log, so that we may light the new one properly.’

      Her agitation seemed to fade, and she smiled a little, remembering.

      ‘If we have any regrets from the old year we can throw them on the fire,’ he announced. ‘Next year we shall start anew.’

      She set her teacup down with a click. ‘And behave as if none of this has happened?’

      He sighed. ‘Is it really necessary to retread the same ground? If you are ready to come home, then I see no reason to refer to any of this again.’

      ‘If I am ready to come home?’

      He had spoken too soon, and ruined all that had gone before. For the coldness had returned to her voice, and she was straightening up the tea things and preparing to leave him.

      ‘Perhaps I should go to my room and dress for the day. If you will excuse me?’

      He followed her to the door and in a last act of desperation held up a hand to stop her as she crossed the threshold, touching her arm and pointing above them. ‘Mistletoe.’

      She frowned. ‘You can’t be serious.’

      ‘Not even for old times’ sake?’

      ‘Certainly not.’ She reached up and caught the thing by a twig. She pulled it down, then threw it to the floor at his feet.

      He stared at it, unsure whether to be angry or sad. ‘Pity. I would have quite enjoyed it. I think it is your kiss I miss the most. But there are so many things about you that I miss it is hard to tell.’

      ‘Miss me?’ She laughed. ‘This is the first I have heard of it. It seems to me that you are managing quite well without me, Harry.’

      ‘It bothers you, then, that I have put Rosalind in charge?’

      ‘Not particularly.’

      ‘But something has made you unhappy again. Are you ready to discuss why you are here?’ he asked.

      ‘Whatever do you mean?’

      ‘You have come back to me, Elise, just as I knew you would. It was no real surprise, seeing you. I had a devil of a time persuading Tremaine to take the invitation, but I knew if he came you would not be able to stay away. And I was right.’ He looked at her, searching her expression for some evidence that she was weakening again.

      ‘It should not be so terribly strange that I would wish to return with him. I lived here for several years, and associate many happy memories with the place.’

      Harry sighed. ‘Do you really? When you left I thought you never wished to see the place again. Or was it just the owner you wished to avoid? Because you must have known I’d be here as well.’

      ‘I hold you no ill will,’ she insisted, staring at him through narrowed eyes and proving her words a lie. ‘And, since you have not said otherwise, I assume you agree that our separation is for the best.’

      ‘You wished to part, not I. Do not mistake my unwillingness to beg for you to return as agreement.’ And then his desire to hold her got the better of him, and he stepped even closer. ‘There is very little separation between us at this moment.’ He grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, so her body rested tight against him.

      ‘That is none of my doing and all of yours.’ But she did not push him away.

      He calmed himself so as not to alarm her. Then he put his mouth to her ear and whispered, so softly that only she could hear, ‘Kiss me, Elise. Just one more time. I will enjoy it, and you will as well. I would make sure of the fact.’ He felt her tremble and knew that he was right. When his lips met hers he would make her forget all about her argument with him. She would think of nothing but how he made her feel, and that would be the end of their troubles.

      ‘I did not come here because I missed your kisses.’ She pulled away from him, and the small rejection stung worse than all the others combined.

      ‘And yet you were the one to come home.’

      ‘For a brief visit. There are things in my room …’

      ‘Things?’ He laughed, for he had been sure that she would come up with a better lie than that when they finally had a chance to speak. ‘If that is all you wanted, then you could have saved me a small amount of personal pride had you come alone, in January, rather than trailing after Tremaine when the house is full of guests.’

      ‘I am not trailing after him,’ she snapped.

      Harry took a deep breath, for it would not do to lose his temper with her. ‘It is all right,’ he responded. ‘I’ve grown quite used to it, really.’

      But clearly it was not all right to her. He had misspoken again, and she was working herself into a rage. ‘You did not expect me to live for ever alone, once we parted?’

      ‘That is not what I mean, and you know it. I knew when you finally left me that