Holly, Mistletoe, and Midnight Snow by Collette Cameron EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Collette Cameron
- Language: English
- Genre: Tudor Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
19 DECEMBER, 1826 ~ LATE AFTERNOON
Why did I let Leonidas Westbrook talk me into this ludicrous farce?
Taking in the ostentatious manor—every window glowing with
a warm welcome—and the immaculate grounds dusted with
snowfall as if God Himself thought the tableau needed a sprinkling of
festivity, Owen Lockington swore inwardly.
I’ve lost my everlasting bloody mind.
Slinging a battered satchel over his shoulder before dragging an equally
dilapidated leather valise from the hackneyed coach’s interior, he caught
sight of his humble, less-than-fashionable attire and his scuffed boots, badly
in need of a good polish.
I’m as out of place as feather dusters at a duel.
A crooked, self-deprecating grin skewed his mouth upward on one side
as he gave a contemptuous shake of his head.
Nothing new there.
How long had it been since he felt he belonged anywhere?
Since his mother had been alive.
Dour, pensive, and resembling his mother’s large, rough Gaelic tribal
ancestors, Owen had never fit in. It was a wonder, in truth, that he and
Leonidas had become such good friends at university. A friendship that had
prevailed for over a decade now, though they seldom saw each other.
When they did, however, they resumed their acquaintance as if no time
had passed.
A good-sized male Dalmatian pranced over to inspect the new arrival.
After thoroughly sniffing Owen’s feet and calves, the chap lifted his head
for a pet.
“I’ve passed muster, have I?” Owen scratched behind the dog’s solid
black ears.
The dog thumped his thick tail thrice before trotting off, sniffing several
bushes, and marking his territory along the way.
Unease scraping sharp talons the length of his spine, Owen once more
skimmed his gaze over the stately mansion, smoke winding lazily skyward
from multiple chimneys. Yet rather than turn around on his next breath, leap
into the cold, smelly conveyance, and order the burly driver to make haste
back to the village as common sense admonished, Owen sprinted up the
steps.
At least this year, he wouldn’t spend Christmas with only a bottle of
brandy and a book for company, as he’d done for nearly a decade.
Leonidas had assured Owen that his parents, the Duke and Duchess of
Latham, would welcome a guest for the holiday. Wholly out of character,
Owen had accepted the invitation from his only close friend after running
into him in London.
He already regretted his impulsive decision, but there was dashed little
he could do now. Unless he stole a horse from the stables or walked, his
chance for escape rumbled down the gravel drive, leaving dual ribbons in
the glistening snow.
Filling his lungs with crisp winter air, he braced his shoulders.
A week at Hefferwickshire House was survivable, even for a social
outcast such as himself.
He’d trimmed his hair this morning, and the unfashionable, unruly sable
locks only brushed his collar now. He’d even deemed to shave his beard,
lest the servants think him a vagabond and direct him to the back of the
house for a crust of bread.
Sighing, Owen rapped upon the entrance with his forefinger’s knuckle
and veered a glance heavenward. The gray, lackluster sky and dusky
horizon portending nightfall and, perchance, more snow matched his sour
mood.
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