“Sit with me,” Juliet said, her gaze holding his as she continued to play.
Giles settled on the mahogany bench beside her and wrapped his arm around her waist.
She leaned closer as she continued to work the keys. Her voice soon filled the parlor. “Peace on earth and mercy mild…Sing with me,” she said to everyone.
He did as she asked, lending his voice to the song. His mother followed his lead, jumping into the carol in the next stanza, followed by the rest of their guests.
Giles could scarcely recall the last time he had enjoyed carols so much. Perhaps he never had. Of course, he had looked forward to gathering around and singing as a child, but that was a wholly unique experience. The holiday as seen through a child’s eye when everything held magic and each day dawned full of hope. Now he was a man, fully grown and soured by life’s experiences.
Juliet changed all of that. She brought him a new hope and filled his life with happiness.
When the last key had been struck and their voices faded, Giles stood and held a hand out to her. “Surely you are parched. Join me for a drink, sweating.”
She placed her hand in his and smiled.
He led her to the sideboard, then poured her a glass of wine. “Thank you for making this Christmas special.” He glanced around the room. “Even in spite of the interruption to your plans. You are a wonderful hostess and an amazing wife. I do believe I owe you a boon.”
A becoming blush painted her cheeks. “You can count on me collecting it the moment we find ourselves alone.”
He reached out and brushed a curl from her temple. “You are my Christmas angel. The best gift I have ever received.”
“Did I disappoint?” She tipped her wineglass to her lips, a slight grin playing at the corners of her mouth.
“You could never disappoint me, darling.”
She sipped from her wine as she gave him a flirtatious glance. “Would you be terribly disappointed if I wore my bow tonight?”
He slid closer, his thigh pressing to hers. “You can wear whatever you wish. Or nothing at all. Either way, I intend to make you moan my name.”
“That is quite enough, Giles.” Mother approached from behind.
He and Juliet turned to meet her, and he forced a welcoming smile even as he begrudged Mother’s interruption. She had bloody bad timing, to be sure.
“I wish to become better acquainted with you, Duchess.” She threaded her arm through Juliet’s. “Come along, dear.”
Giles suppressed a groan as Mother led Juliet over to a nearby sofa. He begrudgingly followed, then seated himself in a high-back chair beside Thorne.
He sipped his wine as Mother regaled Juliet with tales of his childhood shenanigans and peppered her with questions.
On occasion, Olivia or the countess shared tidbits about Juliet, and when they did, Giles paid close attention. All the while, he longed to get his wife alone.
They spent the following two hours in much the same way. Everyone sipped wine, feasted on fruit, and laughing as they traded tales and engaged in general conversation. Unable to stand another moment, Giles met Juliet’s gaze. “It has been a long day.”
As if she could read his intention, she stifled a yawn. “I fear I am rather tired,” she said, then turned her attention to the dowager duchess. “Might we be excused?”
His mother patted Juliet’s hand. “Of course, dear.” She turned to Giles and gave him a knowing peer. “Let the poor dear sleep. She needs her rest after such a busy day.”
He nodded at his mother as Juliet stood, though he had no intentions of obeying her edict.
The rest of the company rose as well, and Giles and Juliet bid them all a good night before he led her out of the parlor. As they mounted the stairs, he took her hands in his. “I had a wonderful time tonight.”
“As did I.” She smiled. “Your mother is rather amusing.”
“She is a pain in the arse,” Giles said, then clasped Juliet’s hand a little tighter. “That nonsense she said about sleep…” He turned his gaze on Juliet, questioning. Perhaps his wife was exhausted. He’d not blame her if she were. “We needn’t make love if you are tired. I will be content to just hold you.”
Juliet shook her head. “I have no intention of sleeping. Not when you teased me so relentlessly earlier.”
He brought his hand to his chest. “Me?” He pretended innocence as he added, “I am not the one who did the seducing in the parlor. Why, I’m still hard from the sight of you in that scrap of red silk.”
