One Perfect Christmas (Short Story) Read Online Free

cellar,” Lucas finished for her. “Come now, Jane. You’re
     letting your imagination run wild.”
    She shook her head to disagree, but stopped suddenly. “I am, aren’t I?”
    Lucas grinned and chucked her under the chin. “Well, yes. It’s always been rather
     an adorable trait of yours. But hardly of use in this situation.”
    Jane smiled shyly at him and leaned in. “Adorable?”
    “Yes, Jane,” Lucas confirmed, fighting the desire to close the small gap between them.
     “Absolutely adorable. One can only assume Lord Needles will be able to see the same.”
    Jane frowned and took a small step back, concern clouding her face. “Quite the opposite,
     I’m afraid. Mother told me he is a botanist and terribly serious. I doubt anything
     is adorable to a botanist.”
    “Botanist?” Lucas repeated, certain he’d misheard her. “Are you sure?”
    “Quite. Mother told me not five minutes before you arrived,” Jane replied, looking
     in the direction of where her mother had disappeared. “I’d mistaken a botanist for
     an arborist—trees and such. A silly mistake, flowers for trees. He’s also a widower,
     did I mention that?”
    So she
had
been discussing trees with her mother earlier. Lucas knew her so well.
    “A widower and a botanist?” Lucas answered, an unattractive sense of satisfaction
     blooming in his chest. No serious scientist with a dearly departed wife could keep
     up with Jane. “Interesting, Jane. He sounds as different from Lord McKee as a man
     could be.”
    Jane returned her gaze to him, a wounded quality mingled with the brilliant blue.
     “Yes, let us hope so.”
    For the first time in his life, Lucas felt clumsy. And nervous. And desperately impatient.
     He needed to tell Jane how he felt, as much for himself as for her.
    “Jane, I wonder, might I speak to you in private?”
    Insecurity and fear could take a bloody dip in the River Styx for all Lucas cared.
     He couldn’t wait any longer.
    “Oh, oh!” Jane whispered urgently, batting at Lucas’s arm as she’d done since they
     were children. “There is Mother. And Lady Pearson. And that can only be—”
    “Lord Needles.”
    Bloody hell, but the man had to be the only handsome widower botanist in all of the
     empire. Lucas looked him upand down, noting, with some reluctance, the apparent lack of infirmities. Nary a hunch
     nor ghastly mole to be found.
    “Oh,” Jane gasped, batting at Lucas once more. “He looks very much like you, only …”
    “Different,” Lucas suggested, nearly gasping himself when the man smiled at Lady Pearson
     and revealed perfectly white, gleaming, straight teeth.
    Jane could not abide bad teeth, this he knew.
    “Yes, different,” Jane observed, mesmerized by Lord Needles’s toothy display. “Dark
     hair, dark eyes. Similar build. But there is something I cannot quite put my finger
     on.”
    Lucas narrowed his eyes over the widower botanist and attempted to refrain from seething
     with irritation. “Let us keep it that way for now, Jane. No need for anyone’s fingers
     to go wandering. Not just yet.”

Chapter Three
    It was remarkable, really. Jane watched Lord Needles approach, taking in his appearance
     more closely. His hair was actually a shade lighter than Lucas’s, with gray at the
     temples. He was perhaps a touch taller than Lucas, that extra bit contributing to
     his leaner frame. And his gait was more controlled—purposeful. Yes, more purposeful
     than Lucas’s often easy stride.
    There was nothing wrong with purpose, Jane reminded herself, forcing a smile for the
     oncoming trio. If she could not have Lucas, perhaps Lord Needles would make for a
     suitable alternative.
    She spied at Lucas from the corner of her eye.
If she could not have Lucas
. There was no question. No “if” about it. She’d asked for his help in securing Lord
     Needles and he’d agreed. If ever he were going to realize he could love her—should
     love her—it was then.
    Blast that word,