But his brother shook his head. “I’ll be somewhere else this evening.”

  It wasn’t like Michael to miss out on an opportunity to dance and flirt, but really, how well did he know his brother, and how much had he erroneously assumed over the years? “Well, have a good night, then.”

  “You too, Anthony.”

  Chapter 14

  Holly glanced in the mirror one last time, drew a deep breath then blew it out. Tonight she would learn the truth. Anthony might not care whether the mistletoe responded or not, but she did. In her heart of hearts, she was certain, but one could not argue with magic. If the mistletoe remained dead then their future would fail and she’d be just as miserable as Ivy’s older sisters. Holly would rather be alone than come to hate Anthony.

  Poor Ivy. Who would push her down the stairs? It nearly broke Holly’s heart when she stopped in to check on her friend and viewed the painful injuries. She’d offered to sit with her during the ball so that Ivy wouldn’t be alone, but she wouldn’t allow it.

  Hopefully, Ethan had calmed some, because Holly need him in better humor when he spoke with Anthony.

  Her stomach flipped knowing that she’d see Anthony shortly, then tightened with fear of what would happen. It wasn’t Ethan who worried her, but the dead plant.

  After one last deep breath, Holly exited her chamber and made her way to the ballroom. Oliver greeted her upon her entrance and she was grateful to have her friend by her side.

  “You’re shaking.”

  “Am I?” she nervously chuckled.

  “Yes. Is it Ivy?”

  “No, she will recover, though I still wish I knew who wished to do her harm.”

  “At least you aren’t blaming a ghost,” he snorted.

  Holly shot him a look. He’d never believe in their existence no matter what she said.

  “Come, come, no scolding me tonight. Let’s enjoy ourselves,” Oliver insisted.

  Holly glanced around, but she couldn’t find Anthony in the crowd. Had he not arrived yet? His family was here, except for his brother, but she’d rarely seen the two in each other’s company.

  Ethan wasn’t present yet either. Her heart began to pound a fierce tattoo. Were they meeting now? What of the mistletoe? Oh, she wished she knew where they were and if they were together.

  “What is the matter with you?” Oliver asked.

  She glanced around and then pulled him away from the others so as not to be overheard. “I believe Redgrave is going to ask Ethan for my hand.”

  At first, Oliver only stared at her, and then he slowly smiled. “Is this what you want?”

  “Yes,” she nearly cried. “More than anything.”

  “As I can’t imagine my cousin rejecting the viscount’s suit, allow me to be the first to congratulate you.”

  Oh, if only it were that simple, but if she mentioned the mistletoe to Oliver, he might very well call her a fool.

  “Redgrave has arrived.” He nodded to the entryway where Anthony stood, glancing over the crowd. Heat settled in her belly when his eyes met hers and then he smiled before making his way toward her.

  “Now, to find my cousin and all will be set,” Oliver murmured.

  “Oh, where is he?” She studied the guests again. “He didn’t change his mind and remain with Ivy, did he?”

  “Look to the entrance again, Holly.”

  There he was, but Anthony noticed him first.

  Her stomach tightened as Anthony approached Ethan. The two shook hands and then he glanced at her, the side of his mouth tilted in a smile and love in his eyes. Holly hadn’t even realized she was crossing to them until she was by their side.

  “I told you it was meant to be.” With that, he opened his hand and the once-dead plant had blossomed to green, healthy leaves, and plump, ripe berries. Her heart lodged in her throat as she looked up at Anthony, unable to keep from smiling. Everything she wanted would be hers.

  “Why the blazes are you carrying mistletoe, Redgrave.”

  “For this, Your Grace.” Then he held it above Holly and leaned in to kiss her. She nearly melted on the spot and grasped his arm to keep upright. Everyone around her faded into the background until it was only Anthony that she was with.

  “Excuse me.” Ethan cleared his throat and Anthony slowly pulled away from Holly.

  “Yes, Your Grace?” Anthony asked while still staring into Holly’s eyes.

  “Is there a matter that you’d like to discuss with me?”

  At Ethan’s stern and warning tone, Holly bit her bottom lip and glanced away as heat infused her cheeks.

  “I’d like permission to marry your ward,” Anthony announced. Most gentlemen would keep the conversation private, but anyone within earshot, and those beyond, must have heard him by the murmurs that surrounded them

  Ethan looked to Holly. “Is this your wish as well?” he asked kindly.

  “Yes, Ethan.”

  “Then how could I possibly object. So long as you are happy, Holly, so shall I be for you.”

  “Thank you, Ethan.”

  Then her guardian turned to Anthony. “Shall we meet, say, the day after tomorrow to discuss details, since tomorrow is Christmas and not a day for settlements.”

  “With all due respect, Your Grace, Holly and I will be traveling to Gretna the day after Christmas.”

  Ethan’s features turned to stone. “Is there a reason for such a rush,” he demanded in a hushed tone.

  “No,” Anthony and Holly blurted out in unison.

  “We simply don’t wish to wait,” Anthony assured Ethan as he took Holly’s hand. “You see, we’ve waited nearly three years and don’t wish to wait any longer.”

  “Three years?” Ethan asked in disbelief. “Why so long.”

  Anthony laughed. “A mere misunderstanding and a story suited for a more convenient time.”

  Ethan frowned at Anthony in confusion, but then changed his focus to Holly. “Are you certain? Your brother would have wanted you to have a grand wedding.”

  Tears misted her eyes at the thought of David. He would have approved of Anthony. Until his death, David had done everything he could to see to her happiness and be both mother and father to her when he could. If he hadn’t cared so much, he wouldn’t have insured that she’d have Westbury as a guardian. Only David could have cared for her all these years better than Ethan.

  “A wedding is not important.” She looked up at Anthony, her heart overflowing with the love for Anthony that she’d tried to keep locked away.

  “Then you shall have your wish.”

  “Gretna?” his mother cried. “Oh do be reasonable. You are a Viscount, heir to the marquisate. You should be married in a church. Why the hurry? Spring is but a few months away and you could be married in St. George’s.”

  Anthony had already anticipated her reaction and was ready to stand firm. For once in his blessed life he was going to do what he wanted, exactly the way he wanted it done.

  Holly stiffened and Anthony placed a hand at the small of her back. They’d not be bullied into waiting even a few months. “We’ve already decided upon Gretna and His Grace has given his blessing.”

  His mother brought a hand to her chest and sank down into the settee in a back parlor. Perhaps he shouldn’t have pulled his parents from the Yule Ball to deliver the news, but enough guests had already overheard Anthony’s discussion with Westbury, and he didn’t wish for his parents to learn before he had a chance to speak with them.

  “If Westbury has no objection to an anvil wedding, then neither do I.” His father shrugged.

  “Will none of my children have a London wedding?” his mother whined. “My only daughter was married by a gypsy, Harry was married in a small church in Cornwall, and now you are running off to Gretna.”

  Anthony grinned at her. “Have faith mother, Michael hasn’t married yet. Maybe he’ll provide the wedding of your dreams.” Except, Anthony didn’t see that happening for some time. His brother wouldn’t have time to court anyone, let alone marry, while he was learning to manage a copper mine. Not that he’d mention that particular topic to his parents. “And there’s always William, though that wedding is at least ten years away.”

  His mother sighed heavily. “Michael is the one I expected to marry in Gretna, not you.”

  “Well, perhaps he will surprise you one day.”

  “Shall we expect you at Halesworth Hall after the beginning of the year?”

  Anthony looked down at his future bride and smiled. “No, Father.”

  “What?” his mother cried again.

  Why hadn’t he ever noticed that she had a flair for drama? Probably because he’d never stepped out of line before. “Holly is in possession of a manor outside of Tintagel. We plan on retiring there for the remainder of winter.”

  “The Season?” his mother asked with worry.

  “I assure you. We will be in London in the Spring.” Besides, his wife had dresses to design and sew, something he had learned recently that she had a passion for. While some may frown upon it, Anthony would never dream of denying her something that brought her such happiness. Of course, he wouldn’t mention as such to his mother as she might very well have an apoplexy. Instead, he’d leave that to Michael, when he finally told their parents that he was going in to trade.

  “I wish you well, Son,” his father said. “Welcome to the family, Miss Prescott. May the two of you share as much happiness as Gwendolyn and I have.”

  “Thank you, Lord Halesworth,” Holly murmured.

  “Now, come along Gwen, and let’s enjoy the rest of the ball.”

  His mother pushed herself up from the settee. “I wish you happy, Anthony.” Then she turned to embrace Holly. “You as well Miss Prescott. All I ask is that you love my son.”

  “I do, Lady Halsworth. With all of my heart, I do.”

  Anthony pulled Holly close once his parents had quit the room. “Is it true?”

  She tilted her head to look up at him. “Is what true?”

  “That you love me with all of your heart.”

  “I’ve already told you so,” she insisted.

  “No, you haven’t, actually,” he laughed. “You only admitted to falling in love over the past three years.”

  “Isn’t that the same?”

  “Almost. So, is it true?”

  “I wouldn’t be marrying you if I wasn’t.”

  “What of the mistletoe?” he questioned.

  “It has no power over my heart, Anthony.”

  “Nor does it mine.” He pulled her tightly against him. “So, is it true?”

  “Of course it’s true.” Then she smiled brightly. “I do love you, Viscount Redgrave, with all of my heart.”

  “And I, Miss Prescott, love you with my entire being, regardless of the mistletoe.” With that, he withdrew it from his pocket and once again held it over her head. “I might just keep this with me always.”

  “You don’t need mistletoe to kiss me, you know.”

  “No, but you can’t ever reject me if it is there.”

  “As if I would.” Her cheeks began to blossom into a lovely pink as she glanced up. “Shouldn’t you be kissing me now?”

  Anthony laughed before he finally brought his lips to hers. Holly melted against him and Anthony was hard-pressed not to sweep her up in his arms and carry her away to Gretna Green at that moment. Two days and then they’d be on their way, and she’d never be parted from him again. For the first time in his life, he was actually looking forward to being confined to a carriage as he traveled across England. With Holly snuggled at his side, Anthony couldn’t imagine a better way to travel.

  What about Michael and Ethan?

  His Mistletoe Miss was part of an anthology since taken out of publication.

  You can find Michael’s story in One Upon a Midnight Clear, written by Ava Stone.

  Only a duke will do for Lady Ivy Dallimore. If her unhappily married sisters have taught her anything, it’s that love is fleeting but a title lasts forever, which is all well and good in theory until she finds herself falling for the scandalous third son of a marquess who is bound and determined to make his fortune in trade! Lord Michael Beck courts scandal, living life to the fullest and dabbling in games of chance. Unfortunately, he’s neither heir nor spare to his father’s title, and the time has come to enter a profession. Michael is no soldier, and he certainly isn’t cut out for the cloth, so he embarks on the most scandalous and risky venture of his life. He will need capital, however, and collecting a number of outstanding gambling debts at a Christmas Eve wedding at Castle Keyvnor seems like the perfect place to start, at least until he stumbles across the lady of his dreams. But what are the odds the practiced gambler can win the girl without losing everything he's worked for?

  Ethan, Duke of Westbury’s story in Christmas Angel written by Jerrica Knight-Catania.

  Ethan Dallimore, Duke of Westbury, would like a little peace in his life. Unfortunately, he has the weight of the world on his shoulders with one demanding sister and one always-underfoot ward. To make matters worse, he arrives at Castle Keyvnor with a debilitating headache that won’t go away. All he wants to do is sleep until it’s gone, but that’s not an option as he’s traveled to the tip of Cornwall to attend a holiday wedding, and even houseguests have their duties. However, Ethan’s desire to sleep is soon replaced with his desire to get to know the mysterious beauty whose mere presence seems to take his pain away. Miss Angel Quinn doesn’t exactly belong at Castle Keyvnor with all its aristocratic guests, even if she does share a bloodline with some of them. But she knows it’s important to accept the invitation to her long-estranged cousins’ weddings, so she puts on her grown-up bloomers and heads for the castle. But so much more awaits her in the mystical village of Bocka Morrow, and the young witch may soon discover just who she was always meant to be.

  A SPIRITED COURTSHIP

  About

  After a failed London courtship left James Bryant, the Earl of Somerton, and Miss Diana Vail both heartbroken from the experience, the pair finds themselves thrown together once again along the Cornish coast. The meddlesome ghosts of Castle Keyvnor are determined the dejected lovebirds are perfect for each other and will stop at nothing to ensure a happy ever after. But is this stubborn pair more than a match for their spirited matchmakers?

  Prologue

  May, 1812, London

  Miss Diana Vail pinched her cheeks to bring more color, smoothed the few wrinkles from her lilac gown, and did a turn before the mirror to make certain all was in place before she exited the retiring room. With each step, she became giddier for she was to meet James Bryant, the Earl of Somerton, in the gardens behind the Hearne grand ballroom.

  “James,” she sighed to herself. She called him James and he called her Diana, though never in front of others, as it simply wasn’t done. Soon, that wouldn’t matter, or at least she hoped, as he’d been courting her nearly all Season. It wasn’t yet an official courtship, but only because her half-brother, Viscount Lynwood, was not in London to grant permission. Regardless, James may not have said the words but after the kisses and caresses they’d shared the night before in Vauxhall, she was confident a betrothal was in her future.

  To think Diana had dreaded this Season. She was four and twenty, no longer fresh from the schoolroom, and feared she might eventually land on the shelf. Instead, she’d met James, he’d courted her, and Diana had fallen in love, ready to secretly meet him.

  “What do you think Somerton is about?”

  Diana paused just outside the door leading to the card room.

  “Since I’ve known him, he’s vowed that ‘if Noah could become a father at the age of five hundred, then I can surely wait to begin producing offspring until age forty’.” The quote was said by several gentlemen, and in unison, as if they knew it by heart.

  Diana stepped away from the entrance to keep from being seen, taking care that her shadow would not cast across the entrance so as to give her away. However, she remained close enough to hear what was being said.

  “His mother is pressing him to marry and has been encouraging young women to make his acquaintance since the beginning of the Season,” one gentleman said. “I assume Somerton simply picked Miss Vail to court so that the others, and his mother, would leave him be.”

  Diana grabbed the wall for support. What they were saying couldn’t possibly be true.

  “I’d wager that Somerton does not become betrothed until the time he set for himself,” someone else declared. “Does anyone wish to wager against me?”

  Diana couldn’t make out the mumblings, but it was clear that no one was willing to take the bet.

  Was it true? Did James have no intention of asking for her hand? Was she simply someone to be used during the Season so he was not bothered by others?

  “Though I will wager that he’ll bed her mother before the Season is through.”

  Diana’s mouth popped open. Not that she was shocked by her mother’s reputation. It was well known that she enjoyed her lovers since becoming a widow, and it was quite embarrassing. However, Diana couldn’t imagine that James would be one of those men. He was soon to be seven and twenty and her mother was five and forty, far too old to be taking lovers to her bed, especially ones that were young enough to be her son.

  “Lady Lynwood does eye Somerton like a cat approaching a bowl of cream.”

  Heat scorched Diana’s cheeks at their raucous laughter.

  “I’m afraid the time for that wager has already passed,” someone said. “Just the other day I heard Lady Lynwood telling my mother over tea that Somerton was the best lover she’d ever enjoyed.”

  This could not be! James had not bedded her mother! He couldn’t have.

  Darkness began to seep into her vision, but Diana forced it away.

  “Perhaps Somerton isn’t courting Miss Vail to discourage other misses,” someone offered.