He shook his head. “I wanted to come . . . because you were here.” He turned to look at me and gave a shy shrug. “I hope that doesn’t come across wrong. Everything else about why I wanted to bring my auntie here is entirely accurate, I assure you. I simply left out that one little tidbit.”

“That’s not a tidbit, Arthur. That’s huge.”

He blushed.

“It is rather, isn’t it?” He tugged on his earlobe. “I imagine that was a big part of why I reacted so poorly when I got here and found out the website was a fabrication. It reminded me of Astrid and how I’d liked her and trusted her and got hurt when she lied. Once I calmed down and got to know you, and this town called Christmas, I realized how silly I was behaving. You and Astrid are so different.” He shook his head. “Thank God.”

“You came to Christmas for me?” I whispered.

He nodded. His dark eyes were wide and vulnerable.

Giddiness danced in my heart. “I didn’t think you even liked me,” I told him.

“I like you very much. From the moment you took my favorite seat in class.”

“Since then?” I was incredulous.

He nodded again. “What other girl would wade into a freezing pond in December to save a tiny bee?”

“No one sane.”

“No one so extraordinary.”

I reached over and took his hand. It was warm and felt as perfect now as it had in the sleigh. “You hid the liking really well.”

“I thought myself rather obvious.”

I shook my head. “No. But I’m starting to learn how to read you better.”

I placed my hand against his chest and didn’t think twice as I leaned forward and kissed him. His lips were warm and gentle. The smoke from the fire mixed with the roasted chestnuts and the distinctive amber woodsy scent I’d come to associate with Arthur Chakrabarti Watercress. My head swam.

I drew back enough to whisper in his ear, “Merry Christmas, Arthur.”

He slowly smiled, a sense of relief coming over him. Beneath the warm blanket, he squeezed my hand and leaned forward to kiss me a second time and a third and then I forgot to count. When we finally did stop, we smiled at each other and snuggled under the wool blanket, an endless array of stars shining overhead.

“Happy Christmas, Finley,” he said, pulling me close beside him.

It had been a happy Christmas after all, despite how it had started, and the several bumpy points along the way. And as I sat by the fire, Arthur’s arms around me, listening to his heartbeat, I had a feeling the new year was also going to be very interesting once I returned to school. Our school. There would be challenges, of course. Some I anticipated, like Bronwyn, and others I wouldn’t see coming.