His shoulders tightened. He was tired of the cold, tired of traveling, tired of waiting this long to regain something he had lost.
Not Christmas. He had given that up on purpose. Benjamin was after something far more precious.
At tomorrow morning’s reading of the will, his mother’s heirloom would return where it belonged. To Benjamin’s hands. Finally.
The dizzying white castle seemed to mock him from the peak of the mountain. That had been his maternal grandfather’s home. Hisestrangedgrandfather. The same grandfather responsible for converting what had once been a ghost town into a vibrant Christmas village.
A madman. There was no other explanation.
Benjamin directed his driver toward the winding path up to the castle’s imposing front gate. They would sleep here tonight. There were no other inns. Besides, this had once been his winter home.
Although his paternal grandfather had passed down the ducal title, his eccentric maternal grandfather had given Cressmouth a reason to thrive.
From Benjamin, he had only taken things away.
It was past time to take his birthright back. He was here for his mother’s locket. The one meant for him. The one bearing a miniature family portrait inside, painted mere weeks after Benjamin was born.
It was the only portrait he shared with his mother. She had died shortly after his birth. That had been Benjamin’s first Christmastide. The holiday had not improved since.
After all this time, it finally seemed possible to retrieve the stolen necklace. Benjamin had begged for its safe return a thousand times. But his grandfather was as immovable as his castle.
The old man always said he’d give the golden locket back to Benjamin over his dead body, and the blackguard clearly meant it. He was dead now. Time for the heirloom to come home.
Benjamin shook off the ghost of his grandfather’s memory as he alighted outside the castle’s doors. A stream of dapper footmen flowed out to greet him.
Murmurs immediately erupted from a growing crowd of onlookers.
“Why, it’s the Duke of Silkridge!”
“Happy Christmas, Your Grace!”
“It’sJanuary,” Benjamin growled.
He entrusted his carriage and horses to his driver and the footmen, and made his way inside to see if there was room for him in the castle’s crumbling interior.
As he crossed the threshold, Benjamin stared about in disbelief.
The interior was the opposite of crumbling. By all appearances, the abandoned medieval castle had been restored to its former glory and beyond.
In the reception hall, crackling fires roared behind their grates, their orange light dancing over a spotless lake of white marble.
Strips of bright blue carpet guided visitors from the door to any number of destinations. An adjoining salon filled with voices and laughter. A great spiral stair led from one sprawling floor to the next.
At a large buffet, footmen cheerfully handed out plates of biscuits and generous ladles of steaming mulled wine. The butler pointed him in that direction after accepting his greatcoat and top hat.
Benjamin didn’t want warm, sugary biscuits. He wanted a room for the night, he wanted his mother’s locket, and he wanted to be gone.
Before he could have any of these things however, he caught sight of golden blond hair and laughing brown eyes. Just like that, his world tilted on its axis.
Noelle was here.Righthere.
His heart beat uncomfortably fast.
She looked both the same and yet somehow even better than before. Soft curves and gold-rimmed spectacles. Happy and smiling and beautiful. Surrounded by a group of equally cheerful friends.
He’d thought she would be gone. He’dhopedshe would be gone.
So many years had passed since he’d last seen her. For the longest time, he had expected her to have a Season in the capitol, to take London by storm. Perhaps she had done so, and he had missed it. After all, he spent his days in the House of Lords and his nights in his study.
