Lord Gladsby, who had been nearly out of the room himself, turned. Grace bid him goodnight and was about to leave herself when Bradley called to her.
“Oh, Grace.”
“Yes?”
“I win.”
She looked at him quizzically. He pointed up. Above her hung the mistletoe she and Lord Gladsby had found, and next to her, the man himself. In the soft candlelight, the tips of his hair shone like spun gold. The shadows deepened the angles in his face, making them appear more pronounced.
Grace ducked her head, the thought of kissing Lord Gladsby far more pleasing than she could ever admit. But it was only a game. A Christmas lark that people played every year. It would mean nothing, at least to him. To her…
Oh, how she wished mistletoe kisses were real. At least she wished this one was.
Reaching up, Lord Gladsby plucked a white berry from the cluster and held it out to her.
“May I?” His voice was hushed.
He would most likely give her a brotherly kiss on the cheek, or one upon her forehead. Certainly, he would never give her a real kiss.
She tried to speak, but her first attempt came out more like a squeak. Finally, she managed a breathy, “yes” as she took the berry.
He drew near, and she was grateful that only Bradley and Diana remained in the room to witness her first kiss fromsomeone unrelated to her. Prudence would have made things exceedingly embarrassing with calls to rush the thing along.
Lord Gladsby placed a gentle hand on her cheek and then ever so softly brushed his lips over hers. It was light and feathery, like a butterfly’s wings, but the feel of it mixed with the heady scent of his aftershave sent Grace’s heartbeat tripping over itself again.
All too soon he stepped back. “Goodnight, Grace.”
She smiled shyly, her hands trembling, the overwhelming urge to beg for more on the edge of her lips. But good sense won out. “Goodnight.”
It was not until she reached her room that she realized he had called her by her Christian name. She floated about her room, readying for bed, hardly knowing what she did. There was something so intimate in the use of such a personal name. He must have meant something by it.
A rhythmic rapping sounded on the door, and she did not even bother answering. Prudence would let herself in if she answered or not. Sure enough, a dark head of curls popped around the door.
“I saw that.”
“Whatever are you speaking of?”
“Lord Gladsby kissed you.”
“How did you—”
“Every hall in this house looks into the interior court. It is not hard to see the door to the drawing room from the stairs. How was it? Is kissing everything you hoped it would be?”
“Prudence!”
“Come now, Grace. You cannot say you have not thought about it or wondered. From my vantage point, it seemed rather brief. Did he fully touch your lips or just the side on your cheek? Does it have a taste?”
Grace placed her hands on her cheeks and spun away. Prudence was far more forthcoming than she could ever have been. She’d never even wondered if kisses had a flavor.
“Do not hold out, Grace. It may be years before I get to experience my first kiss, and I want to know what to expect.”
Grace giggled nervously. “Did you not kiss James Lisonbee at last year’s Christmas party?”
“It’s not the same. That was just for larks. You got to kiss the man you have been in love with for the past year.”
The giddiness in her chest subsided, her expression sobering “You knew?”
Her whispered question was met with a cheeky grin. “Of course I know, silly. Everyone knows. Why else do you think Bradley and Anthony planned to bring you two together this Christmas?” Prudence’s hands flew to her mouth and her big grey eyes widened. “I was not supposed to say that.”
