Page 52 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

“I certainly hope so.” Before she could frown at that cryptic comment, he’d straightened and called out to the vicar. “We’re ready to leave now. Thank you for a wonderful service.”

“Of course, Your Grace!” Vicar Davidson closed the main church doors and scurried down the aisle toward them.

“And for any inconvenience I’ve caused,” Clara added apologetically.

“Inconvenience?” Vicar Davidson smiled pleasantly and held his bible securely clasped in his arms in front of his white and green vestments. “My dear, it’s never an inconvenience to help anyone attend services.” The man gave her a friendly wink and lowered his voice secretively. “I’d carry everyone inside if they were willing to sit through one of my sermons without falling asleep!”

Clara laughed as he retreated toward the side door. She liked the vicar a great deal.

“Speaking of sleep,” Michael interjected, “I think it’s time we returned to the house and put an end to this long day.”

With a nod of agreement, Clara glanced around the empty church. “Where are the children and Mrs. Bailey?”

“They’ve gone ahead in another sleigh with Miss Pritchard.” His smile didn’t fade at admitting to that convenient bit of planning on his part. “They were all tired, and there was no point in forcing them to linger here while I wished all the villagers well.”

Which meant that there would be no children to keep him at a distance and no Mrs. Bailey to interfere if he tried to kiss her again…or do something decidedly more pleasurable than that. She nervously pointed out the obvious. “But we’ll be alone in the sleigh together all the way back to the house.”

His eyes twinkled. “Merry Christmas.”

Before she could give that the tongue lashing it deserved, he stepped into the box, scooped her up into his arms, and carried her down the aisle and out the side door with a nod at Vicar Davidson. He carried her carefully down the short set of steps toward the waiting sleigh.

“This is scandalous,” she complained, having no choice but to wrap her arms securely around his neck. “A bachelor duke carrying off an unmarried miss in the dark of night.”

“Good thing that the dark of night makes it too hard for anyone to see.”

She scowled at him—and at herself for the way her heartbeat raced at being in his arms. Being carried by him was as terribly wonderful as she’d feared, and she was struck hard by the contradiction of happiness and sheer mortification.

“You shouldn’t be carrying me,” she reminded him quietly. “You’re a duke, for heaven’s sake. It isn’t at all dignified.”

“Good thing that I don’t give a damn what’s dignified for a duke.” He set her gently onto the leather-cushioned bench seat in the sleigh and reached for the fur rug. “Show me a man who doesn’t want to have a beautiful woman in his arms, and I’ll show you a fool.” He tucked the rug snuggly across her lap to keep her warm for the ride home and flipped her fur-lined hood over her head. “I might be a duke, but I’m no fool.”

Her flesh heated at the sensuous purr of his voice. She wouldn’t need the furs to keep her warm.

Yet the truth of her situation couldn’t be ignored, and an emotional rasp edged her voice as she pointed out, “Then you at least have to admit what a burden I am now that you’ve been forced to carry me yourself.”

“Not a burden. Just stubborn as hell.” He leaned in as close as he dared, and his warm breath tickled across her lips as he murmured, “And I wouldn’t want you any other way.”

She gaped speechlessly at him from beneath the fur edge of her hood as he strode around the sleigh, untied the horse, and climbed onto the seat. Michael flipped the ribbons, and the chestnut horse started forward through the village. Their sleigh glided over the bridge and into the open fields of the countryside beyond.

Instead of going directly to Northbourne, though, they drove across the empty fields and along the edge of the woods to the icy river. Moonlight danced silver across the layer of white snow that seemed to cover the entire world, except for the black ribbon of the narrow river that laced its way through the countryside, whose iced banks sparkled like diamonds. Above them, a field of stars stretched across the blue-black sky from horizon to horizon. The night was hushed and still, and only the muffled sounds of horse hooves crunching on the snow and the swishing glide of the sleigh runners beneath them broke the silence.

Clara nestled down into the warm furs and let herself be swept away in the magic of the midnight sleigh ride. The brisk air chilled her cheeks, although the sensation was more exhilarating than cold, and she could barely take in all the stillness and beauty around them.

Michael stopped the horse at the edge of the woods near the frozen pond. In the distance through the barren tree branches glowed the lamps of Northbourne, but the dots of light were so far away that they seemed little more than a continuation of the stars filling the sky above them. Silence and stillness fell over the world, and she felt as if they’d slipped into a dream.

She turned her head and caught him staring not at the countryside but at her. A pleasant warmth seeped into her limbs, the sensation as soft as the furs tucked around her.

He tore his eyes away from her and gestured a hand at the frozen pond and the fields beyond. “I thought this would be a good spot to give you your Christmas present.”

Her breath caught in her throat. For one desperate moment, she suspected he meant to propose—

“I hope you like it.” He reached into his coat pocket and withdrew a small box tied with a ribbon. He held it out to her.

She hesitated to take it. The roiling emotions inside her left her not knowing if she wanted it to be a ring or terrified that it was.

His brows drew together in a frown. “What’s wrong?”

“I…don’t have a gift for you,” she lied.