They were pleasant but aloof toward one another in her grandfather’s presence and walked past each other like polite ghosts when the older man was not around. They remained that way until Christmas Eve.

The tradition at Whitmore Manor was for everyone to exchange their gifts on Christmas Eve. Not on Christmas Day or Boxing Day or even Twelfth Night as other households did. Sebastian had chosen his gift for Veronica with care. He’d sent a footman back to London for it that first day. Now he wondered if it was too much. But it was already here and already wrapped. He supposed he might as well give it to her. He’d also chosen gifts for the other members of the family. A bracelet for Jessica, a book for Elizabeth, and gifts for the others each carefully selected…but none as important as the one he’d picked out for Veronica.

Her gift had been hidden in his trunk in his dressing room and now, in the magnificent drawing room, with the entire family gathered, busily preoccupied with exchanging their own gifts, he presented it to his wife. They might be in a quiet standoff, but it was Christmastide and what was the sense of letting their same old fight, the one they apparently could never resolve, keep them from a joyful holiday?

“What’s this?” Veronica asked, staring at the large box he handed her, a frown marking her brow.

“It’s a gift for you…for Christmastide,” Sebastian replied.

She glanced up at him with uncertain eyes, biting her lip. She was wearing a lovely ruby-red gown with a white satin sash along the empire waist. She looked like a Christmastide gift herself.

A smile covered his face. “Open it.”

Veronica carefully pulled at the wide red bow atop the box until it fell to the sides, and she could remove the lid. Inside was a pretty, silver-painted wooden box. She pulled it out and set it atop her lap, giving Sebastian a tentative smile. Oh, dear. She hoped it wasn’t jewelry. If it was, he needn’t have spent so much. She’d tell him so. They’d been cordial to each other for the past several days. They’d fallen into a courteous sort of détente that Veronica quite relished as a respite from their constant sniping. But she still regretted leaving that stupid note on his pillow. He hadn’t tried to touch her in days. And she certainly hadn’t expected a gift from him.

“Go ahead,” he prompted, nodding toward the box.

She carefully lifted the lid to reveal a set of paints in a variety of colors and several well-made wooden brushes of various sizes.

Veronica’s voice caught. “Paints?”

He nodded, a tentative smile on his face.

“It’s a very fine set.” Veronica ran her fingers along the beautiful brushes.

“Do you like it?” Sebastian asked, biting at his lower lip, and looking so much younger and hopeful than she’d seen him in an age. Was he truly worried she wouldn’t like it?