The Five Kisses Read Online Free Page B

throat as she wondered if this would be the last year he would join their festivities. He was an earl now and was going up to London to take his place in society. Would he come back?
    As if he had heard her thoughts, Chad turned toward her and smiled. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a piece of paper. Gillian laughed, inordinately pleased that he had remembered to bring his letter to Father Christmas. She dug in her pocket for her own.
    “Well, children,” Ethan said. “Throw them into the fireplace and we shall see if you will get your wishes.”
    Gillian let Chad go first, watching as he threw his letter into the back of the fireplace. Wriggling with excitement, she followed suit, waiting anxiously to see if the flames would consume the parchment. With a flutter of white, the two letters danced upward until the draft caught hold of them and pulled them up the chimney.
    “Not even singed,” Gillian bragged, hugging her father in her enthusiasm.
    She smiled at Chad, noting with satisfaction the hint of triumph in his eyes. He was still not too old for such childish games. If this were to be their last shared Christmas Eve celebration, she was grateful that he could enter into the spirit of the festivities. She glanced up at her father and realized that he was aware that Chad’s departure for London would change their relationship forever. She took comfort from the compassion in his eyes and raised her chin to show that she understood. Ethan patted her shoulder then took her empty chair. Gillian remained in front of the brightly burning Yule log, ready for her part in the proceedings.
    “In his youth, Papa knew a man called John Newton,” Gillian said. “He had not seen him for many years when he heard that a minister by that name was holding a lively prayer meeting in the Parish of Olney. Papa went to hear the preaching and found that it was indeed his old friend.”
    Gillian turned toward Miss Pennington anxious to see her reaction to hearing this story for the first time. By the shine in her governess’s eyes it was apparent that the woman was enjoying the evening very much. Since Penny was especially fond of history, Gillian spoke directly to her.
    “The minister proclaimed that he had once been an infidel and a libertine. He had gone to sea, carrying items from Liverpool to Africa. He traded his goods for slaves. One night he couldn’t sleep and went up on deck. It was Christmas Eve.”
    Ethan cleared his throat and Gillian grimaced at the lowered eyebrows of her father.
    “Well, we don’t know exactly what night it was,” she said in defense of her fabrication. Then lowering her voice, she said, “It makes a better story, Papa.”
    “Nothing is as good as the truth, poppet,” her father said. “Wouldn’t you agree, Miss Pennington?”
    “The truth is always best, Professor Foster,” she replied formally. There was a twinkle in her eye as she noted the exasperation on her pupil’s face. “However there is such a thing as dramatic license, Gillian. Perhaps you might just say that no one knows for sure what night it was but that it might very well have been Christmas Eve.”
    “Good show, Miss Pennington,” Chad said, grinning his approval.
    Slightly mollified, Gillian continued with her story. “It seemed very cold on deck and John wondered if it might be Christmas Eve. It was a very dark night and below decks he could hear the groans of the slaves. Suddenly he knew that it was wrong to take away anyone’s freedom and he vowed to change his life. At journey’s end he came home to England and became a minister. When he began to preach he thought it was important for the people to understand that no life was so bad that it couldn’t be saved. He wrote songs in the vicarage, late at night, when no one else was awake.”
    Hearing Chad’s snort, she quickly added, “And sometimes he wrote during the day, although he never liked that very much. Papa went to the weekly prayer meetings when he