Page 1 of It's a British Christmas

MISS MERRY’S CHRISTMAS

CHAPTER 1

Hamptonshire, England

October, 1813

Miss Meredith Chambers took a deep breath and smiled at the two little girls staring up at her with wide eyes. “Well, it appears we’re here.”

Her smiled faltered when they both grabbed her legs and hid their faces in her skirts. “What’s this?”

“I don’t want to live here,” Charlotte, the older of the sisters at eight years, wailed.

“Me neither,” Clare, the younger one at six years echoed.

Merry dropped to her knees and pulled them both close. “You are the duke’s wards. He is a very important man, your father’s best friend. You will love living here.”

Two curly, blond-haired heads shook furiously.

“Madam?” The front door of the massive house opened, and a tall, thin butler, his nose as long as the rest of him, glared down at them. “His Grace awaits you in the library.”

Merry stood and patted her hair, which had come loose from her knot. Well, no time to fuss with it now. She took each girl’s hand in hers and made her way up the steps. The sound of the well-sprung coach that delivered them, its wheels clattering on the cobblestones, rang in her ears, the last link to their old life.

“Girls, release my hands, you’re squeezing too hard.”

They ignored her request as they made it to the top of the steps.

The butler viewed the group without expression. “This way if you please.”

Merry followed the man, still dragging her charges.

Goodness, the house was huge. The marble entrance hall was filled with delicate tables, over-stuffed Queen Anne chairs, and an immense clock, its sound almost as loud as her pounding heart.

“Madam? Do you wish assistance?”

Realizing she gaped like a ruffian from the street, she attempted to step forward, still impeded by the girls who had dug their heels in. “Ladies, you must move forward.” They clung tighter. She flashed a smile at the butler, whose countenance remained impassive, leaving her to wonder if a smile ever graced his stoic face.

Despite her best intentions, Merry twisted back and forth, amazed as she took in her surroundings. Plush carpets, silk wall coverings, priceless lamps, all reminding her of the wealth and status of the girls’ guardian. Her nose smacked into something solid as the butler came to an abrupt stop, but her body, with her two charges still dragging behind her, did not.

Lips twitching, but maintaining his austere demeanor, the butler opened a large wooden door with elaborate carvings, and sniffed before announcing, “Lady Charlotte Spencer, Lady Clare Spencer, and Miss Meredith Chambers.”

The girls moved with her, but with their heads down, staring at the floor. Breathless from her effort, she looked up into the most arresting brown eyes, with specks of gold, she’d ever seen. Above the eyes, sharp black eyebrows rose almost to the hairline of wavy black hair. Below the eyes an aristocratic nose led to sensual lips drawn into a tight line.

“Your Grace.” She puffed and attempted a clumsy curtsy.

The only sound in the room was the soft click of the door as the butler exited. Merry waited patiently to be invited to sit. Instead, the brown eyes kept staring at her, then leisurely slid their way down her person, and obviously from the additional tightening of his full sensual lips, finding her wanting.

Eventually, a long-fingered hand flicked in the direction of one of the two leather chairs in front of his desk. “You may sit.”

Merry sat abruptly, feeling like a dog panting in front of its master. The two girls ended up on her lap, still examining their shoes.

“Is there something wrong with the young ladies?” The deep voice rolled over her, setting her heart to pounding.

Merry grasped the girls’ chins and attempted to have them face their ward. Without success. She had no idea their neck muscles were so strong. “No, Your Grace. They’re merely a bit anxious.”

“Indeed.”

How was it possible to put so much disapproval into one word?