Love, need, and desire joined into one as he kissed her, as she kissed him, and he knew his limits were fast approaching. He gentled his kisses, one hand moving to cradle her jaw so his thumb could stroke soothingly there as he tried to calmher, and himself.

Their lips parted, but hovered close as their brows touched. Their breath mingled in the confined space, panting unsteadily on both sides in the silence.

“I never knew,” Elinor whispered as her hands slid back down to his chest. “I never even imagined, Hugh…”

He shook his head against her. “Nor did I, love.” He kissed her lips softly. “Never.”

She exhaled slowly, almost sagging against him. “What do we do now?”

Hugh chuckled and lifted his head, kissing her brow. “Now I think you had best go up to bed. I warned you mistletoe was dangerous.”

Elinor hummed, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t know. I found it all rather exciting.”

“That’s enough,” he warned with a smile. “You need to go up to bed while you still can.”

She giggled and laid a hand alongside his face. “And will you sleep, too?”

“I will,” he vowed, taking her hand and pressing his lips into the palm. “And I anticipate very sweet dreams.”

“One can hope,” she said on a sigh. She winked at him, then stepped away. She picked up her candle, and gave him a coy, almost heated look. “Good night, Hugh Sterling.”

Hugh bowed to her, casting her a wink as he did so. “Good night, Elinor Asheley.”

Elinor nodded, hesitated, then moved away, laughing to herself in a way that made him grin outright.

“Merry Christmas, Hugh Sterling,” he murmured to himself as he sank back against the door jamb, completely and delightfully exhausted. “Very merry indeed.”

Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

Upon reflection, perhaps in our lives there should be more reflection and less reaction.

-The Spinster Chronicles, 20 August 1818

“She’s smiling.”

“Of course, she’s smiling. Why wouldn’t she be smiling?”

“But she’s… she’s smiling. Not a usual smile, but… Just look at it!”

“I can see it, Elle. I’m not blind.”

“E! Do something!”

Elinor glanced over at her younger sisters, still smiling the peculiar smile that was frightening her sister so. “Are you opposed to my smiling, Elle? Does it upset your breakfast?”

Ellen’s expression was utterly comical. “No one should smile in that manner, at breakfast or any other meal.”

Elinor looked at Elizabeth, who only rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the meal. “I’m done with the conversation, Elinor, but feel free to continue to engage her.”

“Must I?” Elinor murmured, taking a bite out of her toast and chewing thoughtfully.