Did he ever. They were his heirs presumptive. First cousins with no courtesy title and nothing but free time.
“Miss Pratchett, may I introduce Nicholas and Christopher Pringle. Cousins, this is Miss Pratchett.”
“You must call me Christopher,” his younger cousin said without hesitation. “Two Mr. Pringles are impossible to remember.”
“I can be memorable,” said his elder cousin with a wolfish smile. “Some call me Saint Nicholas.”
“Because he is absolutely wicked,” Christopher stage-whispered. “Don’t worry, my dear. You are safe with me.”
“She is safer withme,” Benjamin said, more forcefully than he had intended. “Why are you here?”
Before the words were out of Benjamin’s mouth, Nicholas had already been distracted by a pretty face across the crowd and took off in immediate pursuit.
Christopher sat down next to him with a wide smile. “Once we heard you were here, we had to see for ourselves. I can’t recall the last time you took a holiday.” He winked at Noelle. “Although, now I understand the attraction.”
“Miss Pratchett lives here in Cressmouth and has been kind enough to show me her town,” Benjamin said quickly. He did not want to imply that there was any more to it than that. There could neverbeanything more to it than that. Best to change the subject. “I cannot believe you followed me here. I did not mean to encourage a trend.”
“Don’t worry,” Christopher assured him. “It was a trend long before your visit. Did you know the Duke of Azureford has a home here?”
“It’s been mentioned,” Benjamin said with a sigh.
“It’s delightful,” Christopher said, glancing about in obvious pleasure. “I have never seen such a charming place in all my life. Who wouldn’t wish for Christmastide year-round? I could live here forever.”
“It’s not—” Benjamin began, but Christopher was already off and running, bubbling over with all the wonderful ways Cressmouth was superior to any other village he had ever seen.
“Heshould be the tour guide,” Noelle whispered in Benjamin’s ear.
He sighed. Men like his cousins flocked here for a distraction, which was a luxury Benjamin could not afford. He ought to focus on his responsibilities. Return to the real world.
“No wonder it is now such a point of pride to have a cottage in Christmas,” Christopher was saying. “I’ve been here all of two hours and I vow I’ve made a hundred friends for life. Have you ever been so charmed, Silkridge?”
Benjamin tightened his jaw. “It’s not called—”
“Maybe I should stay,” Christopher said suddenly. “Or at least take an annual holiday here. Is that a strange thing to do?”
Noelle answered before Benjamin could. “Many have dual residences. Anyone with a title, of course, and several others who have family elsewhere but also consider us their home. I am not at all surprised you’ve made fast friends of my neighbors. That’s the Christmas spirit.”
“I like that,” Christopher exclaimed. “I shall work on my Christmas spirit.”
Benjamin heroically refrained from dropping his face into his palm.
Before his eyes, Noelle and his cousin engaged each other in an animated conversation about all the wintry fun that could be had within the village walls. Sledding, wassailing, roasting chestnuts on an open fire.
If they noticed Benjamin sitting stoically between them, they gave no sign. It was what he deserved, he supposed. His retribution for lack of Christmas spirit. Or punishment for his intense desire to keep all other men away from Noelle.
As much as he longed to sweep her into his arms and carry her out of this amphitheater into the first private corner where they could be alone, he recognized such thoughts for the fantasy they were. A woman like her would not seek his money or title, but his entire heart. She wouldn’t settle for a compromise. She would expect him to make room in his priorities for a holiday he had sworn off entirely. She wouldn’t increase his solitary family by one but rather by an entire town.
Noelle would never leave Cressmouth. It would be like ripping her heart from her body. And he could not stay. Every mention of Christmas was a knife through his chest, a constant reminder of all that he had lost, the pain that he had been through, the suffering his grandfather inflicted even now.
This town would never be his home. It was a living nightmare.
“What is the most famous aspect about this town?” Christopher asked. “Has it a particular claim to fame?”
Noelle thought it over. “I suppose the twelve Dukes of Christmas.”
Benjamin could not stay silent anymore. “Horses do not count. There are currently thirty odd dukes in all of England. I cannot possibly believe that a third of them choose to holiday in this icebox.”
“You’re the odd one,” Christopher said with a laugh.
