Miss Edith’s Mistletoe Miracle (Beau Monde Bachelors: Scandals and Rogues #8)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

“You shot it down? What were you thinking, you daft man?”

Helena jumped. The ear-piercing screech disrupted the tranquility of the library.

She sighed and murmured, “Oh, dear.”

Looking up from her place at the small writing desk, she met her husband’s gaze.

Sebastian grinned and closed the book he’d been reading. “It sounds like Edith is displeased with Fergus again.”

“Yes, it does.”

Returning his smile, Helena replaced the quill before scrubbing her ink-stained fingers with an old handkerchief. A response to her sister Cora’s letter would have to wait. She couldn’t write a word with her lady’s companion and land steward bellowing in the next room.

“How long do you think it will be before they storm off to separate parts of the house?” she asked.

“It could be a while.” Sebastian’s dark brown eyes glittered with amusement. “Edith is scolding him good this time, poor sap.”

“Your expression of sympathy lacks conviction, my love. I think you enjoy Fergus’s suffering.”

Sebastian shrugged, still smiling. “Perhaps a little. After all, he caused me to suffer a time or two during my courtship of you.”

Helena feigned a disapproving frown, but it dissolved into a chuckle.

Setting his book aside, her husband rose from his seat beside the crackling fire to approach her, hands outstretched.

She eagerly abandoned her task for the thrill of his touch and melted with pleasure when he wrapped her arms around her. He brushed her hair from her eyes and placed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

She never would have believed she could be happy wintering at her first husband’s estate. Before his death, her older husband had controlled every aspect of her life, isolating her from her family.

Aldmist Fell had felt like a prison, but now it was a home—one she shared with the love of her life, her youngest sister Gracie, a most gracious mother-in-law, and servants she loved as family.

Even Edith was earning Helena’s admiration with her unwavering devotion to Gracie. Though she acted more like Gracie’s nurse than Helena’s companion, Helena found she didn’t mind.

Sebastian drew her closer, his warmth surrounding her. “I’ll go to Fergus’s rescue if you wish,” he whispered into her ear, gently capturing her earlobe between his teeth.

Her heart launched into a wobbly gallop.

After five months of marriage, Helena loved Sebastian Thorne even more than on the day they exchanged vows.

His patience and good humor when dealing with her colorful family—whether they were actually blood relatives or close friends she loved like kin—never ceased to amaze her.

“Fergus can defend himself,” she whispered. “I would prefer you kiss me.”

Her husband needed no further encouragement to claim her mouth, causing her to forget about the squabble in the foyer for a moment.

A sharp scream startled Helena and Sebastian apart. Tense silence fell over the other room. Apparently, Edith had gotten Fergus’s attention.

“You could have easily missed,” Edith said in a quieter tone. “What if you had hit a bystander?”

“How else was I supposed to retrieve it?” Fergus’s booming voice echoed in the vast foyer.

And the yelling began again.

Her hopes that the two would lay aside their differences for Christmas, especially with two more of her sisters arriving any day, were fading.

Fergus and Edith had seemed out for each other’s blood ever since their travel party arrived in Scotland.

Helena felt at a loss for how to handle either one.

“What manner of idiot discharges a firearm with no regard for anyone else?” Edith said.

“I canna climb a tree, so what did you expect me to do?”

“I expected you to leave Gracie out of your foolishness, you blasted oaf.”

“I dinnae answer to you, Mistress Gallagher, so stop your caterwauling.”

Sebastian hissed. “Och, I dinnae think I can rescue him now, lass.”

His impersonation of Helena’s dear Scottish servant was very good. She had never mastered the brogue herself, but Sebastian even had Fergus’s forbidding glower perfected.

Helena’s ten-year-old sister entered the library and retrieved a book from the shelf, as if the two adults in the foyer weren’t screaming at each other. “They are quarreling again.”

“We heard,” Sebastian said, releasing Helena from his embrace. She smoothed her skirts.

“What are they fighting about today?” she asked.

Rolling her eyes, Gracie plopped into the seat Sebastian had vacated. “Fergus and I went hunting for mistletoe.”

“Mistletoe?” Sebastian raised a dark brow. “Now, that sounds intriguing.”

Gracie nodded. “Ismay said it isn’t Christmas until the mistletoe is hung, and I want it to be Christmas now.”

Gracie had been following Helena’s lady’s maid around like a pup ever since their arrival at Aldmist Fell. Born and raised at the estate, Ismay knew all the best places to explore, making her the smartest person to ever be born, in Gracie’s eyes.

Another silence fell over the foyer, stretching out much longer than before.

Sebastian tipped his head. “We should intervene.”

He entwined his fingers with Helena’s, leading her from the library.

Gracie tossed her book aside and hurried to catch up, giggling in anticipation of what Sebastian had up his sleeve this time. Helena’s husband was full of mischief and usually provided ample entertainment for the household.

As they approached, they found Edith and Fergus locked in a death stare at the drawing room threshold opposite the library.

“At least they are quiet,” Helena murmured.

Gracie giggled.

Fergus’s hand rested casually on an upper rung of the ladder he’d used to hang the mistletoe, but his ruddy complexion hinted at anything but calm. Even the tips of his ears, peeking through his mop of brown hair, glowed pink.

Edith, for her part, showed no signs of intimidation by the hulking Scot or his fierce temper. With her fists planted firmly on her ample hips, she faced him with fire burning in her blue gaze.

Her spectacles had slipped down her slim nose, and she peered at him over the wire rims. If she shook her finger in his face, Helena wouldn’t be able to maintain her composure.

What a picture they presented!

Sebastian cleared his throat, and the servants turned their heads in unison. As soon as Edith realized she had Sebastian’s ear, she threw her hands in the air.

“This addle pate took Gracie into the woods with a firearm in his possession.”

“The lass was perfectly safe,” Fergus grumbled, his fingers curling tightly around the ladder rung as if he were reining in his temper.

“Fergus is a capable marksman,” Gracie said.

“Thank you, Miss Gracie.” A corner of Fergus’s mouth slanted up in a smirk, which only seemed to infuriate Edith further.

It was silly for them to argue over the girl, as both were very fond of her.

Edith—having lived with Gracie and Helena’s sister Lavinia before Helena found and reunited with her four sisters—might have known Gracie longer, but Fergus was completely wrapped around the girl’s finger.

If Helena’s sister insisted on hunting mistletoe with him, he would have found it hard to deny her.

He had always been just as helpless to say no to Helena.

Sebastian released Helena’s hand and crossed his arms, tilting his head as if assessing the situation. He nodded slowly.

“I see your point, Edith. The man is clearly an idiot of the first order.”

Helena gasped. “Sebastian!”

He shrugged one shoulder. “See for yourself, love. He has an attractive woman standing directly under the mistletoe, and he would rather quarrel than kiss her.”

Edith’s mouth opened and closed several times, but no words came out. Fergus’s gaze lifted to the mistletoe he’d fixed in the doorway. His face flushed a dark red.

“Yes, do it!” Gracie rushed forward, clapping her hands. “You must kiss her, Fergus! She is under the mistletoe. Kiss her! Kiss her!”

Fergus aimed a glare at Sebastian before addressing Helena’s sister.

“I’m certain Mistress Gallagher would prefer I not impose upon her.”

Edith sniffed. “Don’t be daft, Mr. McTaggart. It’s tradition. Just kiss me and put this ridiculous matter behind us.”

“That is the spirit, old girl,” Sebastian said with a laugh.

Not that Edith was truly old, perhaps no more than thirty. She had smooth skin and a voluptuous figure. The only feature that made her appear older was her pale blonde hair, which she wore in a tight knot, along with her wire spectacles.

Fergus simply grunted. Edith’s thin brows rose in challenge.

The muscles in Fergus’s jaw bulged as he flexed his fingers on the ladder rung.

“Crivvens!”

At last, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her against him for a loud, smacking kiss on the mouth. When he thrust her away, Edith stumbled. He held on until she regained her balance, then snatched his hands back as if contact had scorched his skin.

She gaped at him, her eyes wide and round behind her spectacles.

Gracie cheered and turned to Helena and Sebastian. “Now it’s your turn. Go stand under the mistletoe, Helena.”

Sebastian gave Helena a gentle nudge. “You heard your sister. We have memories to make, remember?”

Helena chuckled as she complied with their wishes. She hadn’t celebrated Christmas with her family in nine years, and Gracie had been a baby when Helena was taken to Scotland to marry. Sebastian was right; they had many memories to create together.

Edith shuffled to the side while Fergus carried the ladder further into the foyer, clearing the way. Helena centered herself beneath the mistletoe.

One come-hither glance had her husband crossing to her in three long strides. His hands encircled her waist, and the smile he bestowed nearly made her swoon.

Sebastian Thorne was the most handsome man she had ever seen, and with every kindness he showed to her and her family, he became even more irresistible.

He sent a teasing smile in Fergus’s direction. “This is how you kiss a woman.”