Page 30 of A Prince for Christmas

Mom beamed. “We do this every Christmas morning. The rest of the time it’s just eggs, meat, bread, and fruit.”

Dad came in with an armload of wood for the fireplace. “The cows are milked, and all the animals have had their Christmas breakfasts. Is it time for me to eat?”

“In a moment, Dear,” Mom said, putting the final drizzle of icing on the rolls. “After you get rid of that wood, why don’t you take these to the buffet?”

Her smile was dazzling.

Dad gave a deep, theatrical sigh. “If you think you can’t manage…”

“Well, I thought you’d want butter and marmalade, and a few other little treats…”

I hardly noticed them, since they went through the same routine every year, but Nick was grinning broadly. He followed my dad into the living room.

Mom turned to me. “How’s it going, Dear? He seems so charming. So much better than that last one.”

“He’s wonderful,” I agreed. “But I have to be realistic. Where can it go? I’m not cut out to live in London.”

“I know you think your soul is here, and it always will be, but your body can be where your heart is.” She looked at me soberly. “You can always come back here, for as long as you want, but it’s not an either-or choice. Wherever you go, a piece of your heart will be here, ready when you come back. Don’t be foolish. You don’t have to choose between love and family.”

Completely stunned by Mom’s words, I gathered up homemade jams and marmalades, sweet butter from Bessie, and my favorite, a tray of smoked salmon with capers and cucumbers, and headed for the buffet.

Breakfast itself was casual and protracted. Everyone started with a plate of their favorite foods, but once that first plate was empty, everyone went back for more of whatever they wanted. I watched my sisters packing in the sweet rolls and sausage, not to mention the kid-mosas.

After breakfast, we all settled around the living room and opened gifts. The embers from the Yule log still glowed in the fireplace, putting off a gentle heat. Strains of soft music floated in from the kitchen, and my heart swelled with love for my family. Just being there was the greatest gift.

My Christmas gifts were like a whole-semester care package, which was just what I wanted. My sisters’ gift to me was more surprising. Before presenting it to me, Jenny and Lizzie had an extended conference behind the Christmas tree. Finally, they emerged, and picked up two packages, which had obviously been wrapped with great care.

Jenny held her present out first. It wasn’t heavy, but the shape was strange. For once I was mystified.

“Be careful when you open it,” Jenny cautioned somberly. “It’s fragile.”

“I promise,” I assured her, and began peeling off the excessive amount of tape they had used to wrap it. I finally got it untangled from the Scotch tape, paper and ribbons, and was holding my gift. I hate to admit it, because I had no idea what it was. Almost weightless, mainly shades of green, it looked rather like a psychedelic bird’s nest made of netting, feathers, flowers and ribbon. “It’s… Lovely,” I said, turning it over.

“It’s a fascinator,” Nick said, lighting up. “And a beautiful one. I love the greens, they will go perfectly with Em’s hair.”

My sisters exploded into an eruption of excitement, shrieking, giggling, and dancing around the Christmas tree.

I slowly figured out that I was looking at a hat, British style. I tried to imagine wearing the odd little bird’s nest in public, but I couldn’t. Still, these were my sisters, my little chicks.

“Yes, the color is perfect for me!” I exclaimed, deciding that my sisters’ feelings were more important than anything. Besides, it really was a great color.

“Try it on! Try it on!” the girls shrieked.

“But my hair…” I protested, laughing.

Nick slid onto the loveseat beside me, reaching around my neck to begin undoing my French braid. I tried to ignore the warm and wonderful feeling of his hands on my neck, my hair…

I wanted to sigh and close my eyes and melt, my breathing beginning to pick up speed.

He leaned close and whispered, “Remember, your sisters are watching us, and your parents…”

That stiffened my spine and brought me back to reality. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome.” His arrogant grin made me think he knew exactly the effect he had on women.

He fluffed my freed hair a couple of more times and producing a couple of hairpins which he used to attach the fascinator at a jaunty angle. He sat back and looked at me and gave me a cocky little smile. “You look quite fetching, Emily Miller.”

“So what’s the second present?” I asked, turning away in embarrassment.