Page 49 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

He didn’t know how she had managed to do it all with the children in tow, whose help was usually more of a hindrance. Except that the more attention she focused on the holidays, the more she could avoid him.

That thought didn’t settle well.

“The yew bough looks wonderful,” she commented. “Are we ready to let in the children?”

“Will we ever be?” he grumbled with exaggerated irritation and pushed the stool under the side table that held the special presents from his brother and sister-in-law. Those presents would wait until the morning to be opened.

“Not if you keep teasing them about ponies and the baby Jesus,” she warned.

He flashed her a grin and reached for the doors. With a grand flourish, he pulled them open without any warning, and the four children nearly tumbled forward onto the floor.

They stopped in the doorway and darted their gazes quickly around the room. Then back. Then circled it again before all four sets of little shoulders dropped with disappointment at not finding any trace of ponies.

“What’s the matter, poppet?” Michael feigned ignorance as he scooped Susannah and her doll into his arms.

She craned her neck to look past him, a bewildered expression on her round face. “Where are the ponies?”

He fought to keep from laughing. “Who told you that there were ponies in here?”

Her eyes narrowed to angry slits as she glared down at Margaret, who twisted her lips together and looked away.

“There aren’tponiesinside a drawing room…but there are presents!” He turned to show her the overloaded yew bough and laughed at how her eyes grew as big as saucers and her mouth fell open into a round O.

The other three children let out excited cheers and rushed forward toward the bough. Their eyes were just as big and round as Susannah’s at the sight of the sturdy branch dripping with toys, sweets, yards of ribbons for the girls, and regiments of toy soldiers for the boys.

“The presents on the table are from your father and mother,” Michael explained as he followed after them. “Those wait until tomorrow morning, when you’ll also receive my gifts to you.” He sent a conspiratorial wink at Clara. “Brussels sprouts!”

“Uncle Michael,” Margaret chastised with a roll of her eyes.

Susannah immediately parroted the reaction. “Uncle Michael…”

But the two boys were captivated by the bough and didn’t hear what he’d said, their attentions rapt on the toys dangling just out of reach.

As the oldest child, Margaret was given the honor of lowering the bough on its ropes. The children laughed with happiness as they took turns picking their presents off the branch, with little Susannah needing to be lifted in his arms to reach the cradle filled with new clothes for her doll, whose latest name Michael couldn’t remember.

Then came a rush of little hands as they stripped away candy and peppermints, as the girls untied the ribbons and lengths of lace that Clara had chosen for them, as the boys gathered up the lead soldiers until they’d formed long battle lines across the Aubusson rug.

Tousling Bennie’s hair, Michael left the children to go to Clara’s side, to watch them play with their toys and fuss over their treats. Resting his hand on the back of her chair, he kept his eyes on the children as he leaned over and murmured, “It’s wonderful, isn’t it?”

Before she could answer, Margaret ran to her. “Lady Clara!” She held out the blue satin ribbons edged in gold thread she’d claimed from the bough. “Would you fix these in my hair?”

“Of course.” Clara patted the edge of her chair for the girl to sit, then carefully wound the ribbons through her looping braids.

When Clara finished, she whispered into Margaret’s ear.

The girl jumped to her feet and hugged Clara tightly with a beaming smile before rushing back to join the others.

Michael leaned closer. “What did you say to her?”

“Nothing important,” she murmured, keeping the secret between her and Margaret. She didn’t look up at him, yet he could still see the happy shine in her eyes. “And yes, itiswonderful.”

She reached behind her to tentatively squeeze his hand. It lasted only for a moment before she released his fingers so the children wouldn’t see, but the warmth of her touch seeped up his arm and into his chest.

Together they watched the children, and Michael couldn’t stop smiling. He wanted a Christmas Eve like this every year for the rest of his life.

A noise went up from outside on the lawn.

The children froze. Then they all looked up at Michael with excitement shining on their faces.