He snorted.
“They do,” she insisted. “Information about people. All kinds. And the human heart.”
He came over to her and pointed. “There are some novels here.”
She squinted at the shelf.
He took his spectacles out of his tailcoat pocket. “These were made for me so they might not help. But try them.”
She put them on and her eyes widened. She looked back at the shelf. “Oh. Oh, Kit. The letters are so crisp. I can read the spines.” She turned to him and threw her arms around his neck and bussed him on the cheek.
He was too slow to turn his head and capture her mouth with his, to get his arms around her. She had already let go and turned back to the books.
“I’ve heard this is funny.” She brought down a fat volume he recognized.Tristram Shandy.
“That book is utter nonsense.”
“Perfect for me.” She hugged it to her chest and took off his spectacles and held them out. “Thank you.”
“You keep them.” He went in his other pocket. “I have a spare.” He showed her his other pair.
She bit her lip and looked down and curtsied. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
“None of that, now.”
She looked up. Embarrassed? No. Just reluctant to take his spectacles even though he didn’t need them.
“It’s an accident of birth, having money. And the money has never made me happy before. So, I know now what I want for Christmas. I want to give you things with no fuss and no protest and noYour Graces. I want to buy food for a feast. Buy presents for you to give your brother. Buy enough greenery so the house looks like Sherwood Forest. I want extravagance. I doubt I’ll ever be interested in Christmas again, so I might as well make this the biggest, bloody Christmas ever.”
“I can’t let you do that.”
“I let you give me a pie.”
She frowned. “Only one, though. I wanted to give you two.”
“You like giving things, Franny. So give me Christmas. Give the Duke of Kittredge the chance to give. Don’t be selfish and keep all the giving to yourself.”
She ducked her head and smiled. “All right.”
“But I’ll take the spectacles back if you don’t thank me properly. As Kit.”
She looked up. “Thank you, Kit. You’re the most generous man I know.”
He had hoped for another kiss, but his stomach flipped just as if she had kissed him.
The most generous man I knowwas lying hyperbole—no, it came from her own generosity. But he didn’t care that it wasn’t true. He would clutch at any compliment she gave him.
They settled in front of the fire, Bevel at Franny’s feet. But Kittredge could not keep his attention on the page. He kept looking up at Franny. She was enormously fetching wearing the spectacles, the firelight gleaming on the lenses while also flecking her hair with gold. Franny laughed, of course, while reading the book, and Kittredge decided he had better reread the ridiculous thing when she was done. Maybe he had missed the point the first time.
It was a long, lonely night in his very big bed with only Bevel for company.
“How old is your brother again?”
“Thirteen.”
He looked around at the brightly-painted things in the toy shop. “Should we really be buying his Christmas presents here?”
Her face fell. “We didn’t celebrate last year becausePapàdied, and I think Ren liked the chess set I gave him the year before.”
