How the Duke Stole Christmas: A Stolen Kisses Novella

by Alanna Lucas

  Greystone had heard crying and assumed it was Clara. How would he ever deal with a wailing child? What would he say to her? He wasn’t any good at expressing his own feelings so how was he supposed to deal with those of others, let alone a child’s?

  He sucked in a deep breath and prepared to enter the parlor when he heard Patience’s calming voice. “My parents are gone, too.”

  He stood outside the parlor listening to Patience ease his little niece’s pain.

  “Did you cry a lot?” The little girl’s sweet question touched him in a way he had not thought possible. Pain and something else struck his pounding heart.

  “Yes, and sometimes…I still cry.” But whereas Clara’s question had warmed his heart, Patience’s response nearly broke it.

  When he was young, he’d always imagined he would marry and have a family of his own. It had been one of his greatest desires until he was deceived by Olive. His dreams had been shattered and every desire to marry had died the day he’d seen his brother swiving her like a common tavern whore. Worse had been what she said. “I only pursued you because my father wanted me to be a Duchess.” She had been prepared to marry him and take his own brother as a lover, but even worse than her betrayal was his brother’s. Arthur had stood by her side, choosing Olive over his family.

  And here he was, watching his brother’s daughter and the woman who seemed resistant to him, sharing an intimate moment.

  A torrent of emotions crashed through him. His heart pounded against his chest, threatening to burst through. He needed to escape, to think, to figure out this surge of want and need and…hope.

  Chapter 7

  Patience’s eyes burned, and her body ached from lack of sleep. She did not think the morning would ever come after spending an anxious night with the covers pulled over her head. A gale had rattled the windows and rumbled through her room. She detested the howling wind; it always reminded her of the night her mother had died.

  Rubbing her sore neck, she walked to the window. The landscape was saturated, the trees weighed down from the torrential rain, some branches fallen, but the sky…the sky revealed patches of brilliant blue. She inhaled deeply, her lungs filling with hope. Puffy pink clouds sat on the horizon, the sun edging its way up behind them.

  By the time she had completed her morning toilette and ventured outside, more dark clouds had encroached, resting on the horizon and threatening to chase away the joy of a pleasant winter’s day. She realized she might have an hour in the glorious sunlight before she would have to retreat inside. Best to make the most of it.

  The mild air left by the storm was a soothing balm, chasing away the ill-effects of the night. She traversed across the footbridge that led to a Grecian temple, enjoying the splendor of nature.

  Soon, her thoughts strayed to her mother’s last Christmas, before the illness, before tragedy had struck her family. Patrick had helped Father bring in the Yule log while Parnell played the pianoforte. Patience had sat within the folds of her mother’s warm embrace on the sofa. It had been the single most wonderful moment of her life. They were all together and happy. Then her mother had become sick and their lives had been turned upside down.

  Seeing her mother lying still, all the color and life drained from her face, had devastated Patience, who had been barely fourteen. But that had been only the beginning. It was the first time she had ever seen her father in his cups. He had been barely able to hold his head up, so consumed was he with grief.

  A pang struck her heart with such force that she gripped the fabric at her chest, hoping, praying, her heart would settle. Uncontrollable tears rushed down her face.

  “Are you ill, Miss Leybourne?”

  “Ah!” Patience let out a little scream as she faced His Grace. She didn’t think it possible but the pounding in her heart had grown. She swallowed hard, attempting to regain her breath. “Yes...no. Please go away.” She turned, not wanting him to see how upset she’d become.

  He stepped closer.

  “Please,” she began on a choked whisper, “just let me alone.” She wiped the tears away, but the sting was still there.

  A warm hand cupped her shoulders, and that was her undoing. A torrent of emotions and tears consumed her. She did not know how it happened, but she found herself nestled into Greystone’s warmth, crying into his chest. His large hand caressed her back. She was certain he offered some soothing endearments, but they were lost in the sea of her grief.

  After countless minutes, he lifted her chin and looked into her eyes. There was something different about him. Not on the outside, but within. There was a gentleness in his gaze that she did not expect to find. There were so many secrets hidden within those depths, but at present, she saw only caring and compassion.

  “Let me take away the pain.”

  The Duke began to lower his head. Should she push him away? No, definitely not. She leaned in, desperate to feel more, to experience more.

  His warm breath stroked her cool cheek. His lips were so close, yet still too far away. The anticipation was killing her, but before she could protest at the distance, he brushed a soft kiss across her lips before pulling back and staring into her eyes. He seemed just as confused as she.

  Within seconds, the confusion was gone and replaced with searing desire as he bent his head and took her lips in another kiss. He pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Velvet tongues danced, enticed. It was the most glorious feeling in the world.

  The dampness of the day disappeared with the fire of their kiss.

  Greystone was not cold and hard, or made of stone. He was warm and muscular, very much a man. His hand traveled down the length of her back, settling on the curve of her hip. She leaned in, desperate to close the distance, desperate to feel more. Passion and desire raced through her veins. She’d never experienced anything quite like this before. No wonder ladies swooned over rakes.

  All too soon, he slowed the kiss. His hand cupped her cheek as he studied her. Silence lingered between them as their bodies fought for control. Part of her was afraid of the words that would come out of her mouth if she were able to speak: Kiss me again.

  He pulled her shawl about her shoulders and then offered his arm. “We should be returning before my mother sends the hounds after me. She believes that I might flee at any moment.”

  “Will you?”

  He looked down into her eyes, heat and desire shining bright. “I think I might have found a reason to stay.”

  Once they’d returned to the house, duty called Greystone away. Patience didn’t know what to make of everything. When they were alone he was passionate and caring, but the moment anyone was around, he became distant, and not just with her.

  Tonight’s meal was the first since Greystone had arrived that Aunt Agnes was well enough to attend. Even Clara was allowed to stay up late and join the family for the intimate dinner. Thankfully, no other guests had been invited. What with her aunt’s continuous—and extremely lively—flow of questions about everything she’d missed since taking ill, Clara feeding Max under the table, and Greystone staring at Patience from across the table under Clarice’s questioning gaze, Patience was on edge. She’d still had not had a moment alone with Greystone to discuss that kiss.

  By the time dinner had ended and they’d retired to the parlor, Patience’s insides were beyond knotted. She needed answers. A man did not kiss like that and not mean it, or perhaps she was reading too much into it, just like she had at the ball. Her heart sank. She was slowly losing her heart to Greystone. Her spirits plummeted even further with the realization that he would never feel the same, probably never allow himself to feel anything more than attraction, and she would not settle for anything less than love.

  Clara’s voice broke through her musings. “What do you think, Miss Patty?” Clara had decided that ‘Miss Leybourne’ was too formal and instead informed Patience that she looked like a Miss Patty.

  “It is a lovely sketch. What kind of bird is it?”

  Without even pa
using, the little girl responded, “It is an eagle that will carry me up to the sky.” She picked up her pencil and added a cloud.

  “That’s far away from the ground. What’s up in the sky?” Patience adored Clara’s imagination and all the things the child said.

  “Mama said Papa went up into the sky, past all the clouds to heaven, and I want to visit him. Do you think Mama went to heaven, too?”

  A faint snort crept from across the room. Patience looked up and saw Greystone standing in the open door.

  She ignored the mocking sound and instead reassured Clara. “I’m sure she is with your papa and both are watching over you.”

  Clara smiled brightly as she jumped to her feet, startling Max, and gave Patience a hug. “I’m going to draw you a picture, Miss Patty.”

  “I can’t wait to see what you create.” Patience kissed Clara’s cheek before the child gave Max a big hug then plopped back down on the floor and set to work on a new drawing.

  “I’ll be back shortly to see your progress.”

  Patience ignored Clarice’s inquiring gaze and approached Greystone. Narrowing her eyes with displeasure, she nodded her head toward the hall, hoping he would take the hint to follow, but didn’t say a word. Patience could not trust herself not to unleash her full wrath.

  They had not even taken two steps into the hall when Greystone growled out, “What’s this all about?”

  “Not here,” she whispered. Grabbing his hand, she pulled him down the dark hall. Whispering over her shoulder, she said, “I don’t want her to hear us.”

  When she believed they had traveled far enough from earshot, she turned to face Greystone. Barely able to keep the anger from her voice, she began to scold him. “Regardless of your feelings you cannot shatter that little girl’s memories.”

  “You know nothing of my feelings.”

  “It’s clear that you cannot let whatever happened in the past remain in the past. You appear cold and insensitive at times.”

  “Really, after the kiss…” He looked around before he lowered his voice. “After the kiss we shared?”

  “This isn’t about that kiss. And besides, I know how you feel about love. You stated your position quite clearly.” He opened his mouth to speak, but she held up her hand to keep him from speaking. “This is about Clara and all that she’s suffered. She lost both parents and now finds herself in your care.”

  “Why are you so protective of Clara?” The words shot from his mouth without thought.

  Patience seemed taken aback by the question. Truth be told, he was too.

  Her blue eyes were full of sadness, warmth, and compassion. “I know what it’s like to have lost both parents. The pain never leaves.” She inhaled a shaky breath. “And the gossip only makes it worse.”

  “I…I’m sorry.” Greystone didn’t know what to say, and worse, his half-arsed apology sounded weak, even to his own ears.

  “It’s not your fault.” Patience worried her bottom lip. In that moment, he wanted to take away all her pain and heartache.

  “Patience,” he breathed out, hoping she wouldn’t pull away from him.

  “Your Grace,” she murmured.

  In a moment of pure insanity, he offered what he had never offered to anyone before. “Theodore.”

  She seemed hesitant at first, and when her lips parted, it felt like an eternity before she said what he longed to hear. “Theodore.” His name came out on a breathy whisper.

  There was no more time for words. Greystone lowered his lips to hers and brushed soft kisses along them, savoring the sweet taste of her lips. The kiss was slow, thoughtful, and surprisingly gentle, considering how desperate he was to have more. He wanted to savor the moment, never wanting it to end.

  Sounds of laughter and Max barking drifted from down the hall, interrupting their interlude.

  Patience pulled back out of his embrace and looked into his eyes. “Promise me that whatever may come, you will be kind and loving to Clara.” Her request had a morbid undertone that darkened his joy. What could she mean? “Promise me, Theodore.” Her intense stare went straight to his heart. He would have promised her the moon in that moment.

  “I promise.”

  “Oh, there you two are.” His mother’s timing was impeccable. “Patience, your aunt was wondering if you would play the pianoforte before the evening comes to an end?”

  “Yes, of course.” Patience stepped away from him, leaving him cold and wanting.

  Mother raised a quizzical brow, but thankfully kept her thoughts to herself. He was at a crossroad and he didn’t know what to do.

  “I believe I will retire now.”

  A couple of hours later, his mind was still at odds with what had occurred with Patience. She had stood up to him on Clara’s behalf and then asked him to be kind and loving to his niece. The wall surrounding his heart was slowly crumbling and a surge of emotions was muddling his thoughts.

  He pulled the stopper off the decanter and poured a healthy serving of brandy. He stared at what had become his usual form of escape over the past six years. He didn’t like what he’d become.

  “Damn,” he swore as he tossed the glass and its contents into the dying embers. Flames rose high in the massive fireplace. He would not succumb to this poison any longer.

  He flung open the door of his suite and headed toward his study. He would begin to set things to right tonight. He had assumed everyone would have retired by this hour, but as he neared the music room, a soft hum reached his ears. Halting just outside the door, he peered inside and spied Patience draping a garland of ivy and ribbon across the mantle.

  “What are you doing?” Although his tone held none of the anger it had before, when Patience turned around, he could see she was ready to argue. Her next words confirmed it.

  “I know you don’t approve, but for Clara’s—and your mother’s—sake, please let me decorate just this room. They deserve a happy festive season.”

  He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “I…” He inhaled deeply, not knowing what to say. The emotions he’d been avoiding for the past six years rushed through his body, practically paralyzing him with fear and an all-consuming need that he’d been suppressing.

  Patience came over to him. “I don’t know all of what you suffered in the past, but can’t you put that behind you and look to the future?”

  The need she constantly stirred was going to be his downfall.

  “I…don’t know if I’m capable.” The words tore from his mouth on a ragged breath.

  She placed a gentle hand on his arm, leaned in, and brushed a kiss on his cheek. “You’re standing under the mistletoe,” she whispered.

  Something snapped in his mind. The room began to spin, and he jerked away from her.

  Mistletoe.

  He looked up and saw, hanging in the doorway, a spray of the plant with large white berries. Images of his brother and Olive rushed to the forefront of his mind. Without thought, he reached up and tore the sprig down and tossed it to the floor.

  “What are you doing?” Shock laced every syllable as the words echoed off the walls, but he could hardly discern Patience’s words as the anger built inside him to epic proportions.

  “I do not want my house decorated.” He glared down at her. “Not now, not ever! You are not to disobey my orders.”

  “Do you not care for those around you?” Despite his efforts to try and move around her, she continued to plead her case. “What of your mother and Clara? They will be so disappointed.”

  “The world is full of disappointments. Better for Clara to learn and accept that now than to have her heart ripped from her chest by…” His words trailed off, halted by the intense beating of his heart.

  “Are we speaking of Clara or you?” Crossing her arms, Patience continued to hold her ground. “You are so consumed with your own disappointments, as you put it, that you cannot see that there is a little girl who needs you, needs your love.”

  The words that he’d been trying to conv
ince himself of for the last several years spewed from his mouth. “Love, hah! It is a stupid sentiment that—”

  “Thank you for explaining your position.” Patience looked at him in horror, as if he were an uncaring monster, but her voice was calm. “I believe I shall take my leave now.”

  “Patience, wait—” he called as she began to retreat down the hall.

  “No. I have finished waiting. I have been waiting for years to find love, passion, and happiness.” She let out a cynical laugh. “I never want to be so coldhearted. I believe your heart to be two sizes too small, Your Grace.” She turned partway before halting and speaking over her shoulder. “I suppose I should thank you. You’ve opened my eyes to the world.” And with that, she walked away along the dark hall, leaving a hole in his heart.

  Chapter 8

  Patience was past the point of being upset. She was livid. Every time she thought Greystone and she were growing closer, he did something to push her away. She could see the struggle in his eyes. Why wouldn’t he just talk to her? Tell her what had happened to cause such angst. She paced the length of the room contemplating her next move. She felt as if she were playing a game of chess. There was only one problem; she didn’t know how to play chess, and she suspected that she was losing miserably. Perhaps it was best if she left Castle Greystone. She inhaled deeply, contemplating that decision.

  Knock, knock.

  She swirled around. Who could it be at this hour? Another very soft knock sounded.

  She opened the door, half expecting to see her aunt. “Clara? What’s the matter?”

  The little girl clutched her blanket as she edged into the room, followed by Max. “May I sleep in your bed, Miss Patty?”

  Patience bent down and picked up the little girl, the fresh scent of sweet peas encircling her once more. For the rest of her life this scent would always remind her of Clara. Her heart ached with the thought of never seeing the child again.