On the Twelfth Day of Christmas (Surprise! Dukes)

Chapter 1

“Is there anything more wonderful than Edinburgh at Christmastime?” Lady Amanda Kincaid sighed happily, kicking a pile of snow that had built up along Princes Street, and spun in a circle for good measure. “Every building decorated, such wonderful things in each shop window?”

“Indeed, Lady Amanda.” Hiro’s dry intonation told her he didn’t agree. “Such delightful sludgy snow. Such wonderful freezing rain. Such excellent red noses.”

She halted her spin—more out of self-preservation than a care for what others thought. The snow was a bit sludgy, and she didn’t need to land in it when her dizziness caught up.

Instead, she plopped her hands on her hips and raised a brow at her companion.

Best friend. Lover. “The rain turned to snow quickly enough and we were snug inside. I suppose I should have asked: Is there anything more wonderful than Edinburgh at Christmastime when we are curled up by the fire with good books?”

Finally, Hiro’s lovely lips twitched and he offered a little bow. “No, Lady Amanda. I suppose not.”

She sniffed, hating the Lady Amanda game he felt obliged to play whenever he thought they were in danger of being recognized. Edinburgh—only a few short hours by train from her brother’s dukedom—and its Society presented some dangers, indeed.

Not the kind she preferred.

Perhaps her souring mood showed because Hiro’s smile shifted to something like regret before he glanced around and offered his arm.

She accepted his silent peace offering and slid her arm through his, loving his strength as he tucked her up against him and they continued strolling on, now in silence.

Princes Street was the finer part of the city, with expensive shops and gorgeous, snow-covered gardens. It was also where Society frequented, so she was delighted Hiro was willing to be seen like this.

With her.

“Do you wish to stop in any other shops?” he murmured.

A flutter of pleasure soared through her chest as she noticed he’d quit tacking Lady Amanda on every other sentence. She didn’t need the reminder.

“Not right now.” Taking a deep breath, she tipped her head back to the dull winter sunshine, trusting Hiro to keep her safe even if she ignored her surroundings, as he had so many times before. “Do you think Benny will like it?”

Amanda watched him lift the bag the shop had handed them after their last stop. “A train set? Complete with a bell and tracks which he can build on?” His dark eyes twinkled beneath the brim of his winter hat. “Just what every wee lad wants.”

Chuckling at his attempts to mimic the local brogue, Amanda knocked her hip against his as they walked. “I hope so. And I thought it would be a convenient series of gifts. You know, buy him another piece of the set each year?”

“Or on your travels. A Russian train car, a Brazilian train car…”

Your travels. Hiro’s casual comment caused a lump in her throat.

In her mind, in her heart, these last three years had been their travels. He’d been at her side through it all, even when Society frowned at them, and it stung to think he didn’t consider them his adventures as well. Did he only follow along because it was expected?

Still, she forced a breezy air when she continued, “A luggage car, a cold car.”

“Oh, I hope not,” Hiro intoned seriously, gaze sweeping the walk ahead of them in that alert way of his. “I’d hate to think of you giving young Lord Benedict an achoo-achoo-train.”

It took her a moment to get it, but when she did, Amanda snorted and bumped his hip again. “That was terrible!”

“Was it?” he deadpanned. “It’s difficult to stay on track.”

“Hiro, darling, if your parents were Spanish instead of Japanese, I would say you have a loco-motive to make me groan.”

Now it was his turn to snort and roll his eyes. “I would ask if you’ve run out of steam, but that might derail this ridiculous conversation.”

Oh goodness, he’d doubled up on the puns. She tapped her chin in thought. “Are you certain we do not have our signals crossed? I am a-freight we should not continue.”

“A freight?” he repeated with a scowl and a shake of his head. “Afraid? You’re grasping at straws. I declare myself to still be pun champion, despite your best efforts.”

Amanda sighed dramatically. “Not fair.”

“That’s because you have tunnel vision,” he quipped, apparently unable to resist throwing in one more stupid train pun.

She couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Do you mind if we continue our walk?” she asked. “Even with the snow it is a lovely day, and we can take a hack back to the hotel.”

They were now quite a few streets from the Royal Hotel, but Princes Street was fascinating and Amanda was enjoying herself.

“It is overcast and gray and those clouds are threatening additional snow,” Hiro rebutted.

All of that was true, but she still wanted to continue. “So?”

“So,” he sighed, “we shall continue.”

Amanda snuck a peek at him from under her winter hat as they walked along the sidewalk. Was it really such a burden for him to stroll with her?

Or was it that he didn’t want to be seen with her?

During their adventures, they had been equals; sleeping in Bedouin tents or adobe huts in the American desert. Exploring their world, holding one another. But whenever they returned to civilization, Hiro slipped back into his role of servant.

As her brother’s butler.

It was frustrating…and heartbreaking.

She loved him.

It wasn’t something they’d ever spoken about, but somewhere between him vowing to protect her as she went gallivanting around the world, and her inviting him into her bed, she’d fallen in love with him.

And she had absolutely zero idea how he felt about her.

It was galling.

Oh, well, clearly he enjoyed her company and their lovemaking…but then they’d return to a city or to Britain, and suddenly he was all proper and stiff—sadly not in the good way—once more.

Lady Amanda this and my lady that.

When they had been together on a xebec, sailing past Malta, he’d called her Mandy.

Ahead of them, the fine shops and fancy shoppers were thinning as if they were leaving the best part of Princes Street behind. Amanda wasn’t concerned; she was enjoying having him at her side, the corded muscles of his forearm pressed against her as they walked.

Hiro tilted his head toward her, grabbing her attention once more. When she glanced up at him, his lips curled slyly. “Still, you have to admit, this is no Cairo.”

Such a simple comment, but it relaxed her, made her sigh. Amanda found herself smiling at the memories and the reminder that he remembered too. “This is true. Do you remember Ali?”

“The lad who claimed he could guide us through the pyramids, only to lead us to his cousins who wanted to relieve us of our wallets?”

Chuckling, Amanda pressed her temple against his shoulder, just briefly. “I remember how you fought them all off with your umbrella.”

“And I remember how you nagged because you thought the umbrella was unnecessary.”

“In Cairo,” she laughed, her heart light. “We had no need for an umbrella in Cairo.”

“Clearly we did,” he reminded her drily. “And I’d brought it along for the sun.”

This was the kind of moment she cherished with Hiro; reminiscing about their adventures as equals, as old friends. As if they didn’t have the accident of their births to stand between them.

As if she wasn’t the sister of a duke, and he wasn’t her bodyguard.

“As I recall that German gentlemen helped you chase off Ali’s friends, and the lad ended up helping us hire a real guide.”

Hiro paused as they reached South Charlotte Street, but not seeing any carriages or horses, led her to the opposite side. “Herman Kisch, as I recall. You joked that you couldn’t marry him.”

“It was not a joke! Amanda Kisch? Terrible!”

He smirked at her affront, but Amanda was serious. It was something she and her sister Amelia had teased for years; Amanda’s name sounded sufficiently like A-man-to that she would have to be very careful about which last name she would agree to take. As a result, Amanda had vowed never to marry.

But in reality, it was because there was no man she wanted to marry.

Or rather, there was, but he wouldn’t have her.

“Last month in Dublin the head waiter was named Lynn.” His words were mild, but she could hear the teasing tone hidden beneath.

“Lynn?” she repeated, trying to work through his point. “Amanda…Lynn? Amanda Lynn.” It wasn’t until she said it in a sing-song tone that she understood. “A mandolin? Oh Lord, Hiro!” she groaned, smacking his arm. “That’s terrible.”

“Oh, you think so?” His tone was too innocent. “Did I tell you I met a Jacques Suchard in the hotel yesterday?”

Amanda snorted as they passed the last of the shops. “Suss-chard? It is a good thing it is not pronounced suck-hard. I likely should not marry him either, just to be safe.”

“Likely,” Hiro agreed drily as he turned them near St. John’s. “And Joseph Slapp? He was your brother’s solicitor who wrote last week.”

“Amanda Slapp?” Chuckling, she pressed her cheek to his arm again, not caring how her hat brim would bend, or that people would see them.

There were fewer shoppers here, and those who were out and about seemed inclined to keep their heads bowed against the cold as they hurried on their way. “Actually, I could live with that.”

Hiro knew she didn’t mean it, because he snorted. “A man to slap? Yes, Mandy, I could see that working for you.”

It was the Mandy which did it for her.

Until now, Amanda had managed to rein in her desire to touch him more than she currently was, in deference to their surroundings and Hiro’s obvious discomfort. But he’d called her Mandy again, and they were chuckling about three years of shared adventures and jokes.

She couldn’t help herself.

In one movement, she reached for his other arm to stop him, surged up on her toes, and kissed him.