Three Kisses Before Christmas, Wilde, Tanya [ebooks that read to you TXT] 📗

did, that I was in love with Langley. He did not wish to interfere with my feelings. The honor of a gentleman, and all that, I imagine.” Rebecca shook her head. Men could be so dense at times.

“Well, he certainly took his honor to heart.”

Rebecca sighed. “What should I do, Caro?”

“There is nothing else to do, dear, but look inside your heart. The answer lies there.”

“What if I cannot find whatever it is I am looking for?”

Caro rose from the bed. “Then, my dear, you must dig a little deeper. You are going to Willoughby Castle. Engage with the world. Treasure hunt with Wicke. Explore the emotions he tempts within you. If there are none, you will have your answer.”

“Wise, as always.”

Caroline nodded. “And, by the by, if you do decide to pursue the course of becoming a businesswoman, I’d rather not be within bellowing distance of your brother when you tell him of your choice.”

Rebecca grimaced. “Noted.”

Caroline chuckled. “Good luck.”

Rebecca sagged against her writing desk as Caroline waddled from the chamber. Caroline needn’t worry. She did not plan on telling her brother anything. She also knew exactly what emotions Wicke enticed. Passion. Strip that away . . .

How had her life taken such a sudden turn? But then, Rebecca should not have been all that surprised. Life had a way of knocking the air from one’s lungs when one least expected it. Look at how she met Mr. Lance. And Caroline’s reasoning had done just that. Treasure hunt with Wicke? Explore all he tempted within her? She could scarcely breathe at the thought.

Chapter 10

“You are aware only seedy characters choose the darkened corner of a pub to loiter?”

Wolfstan took a swig of ale before lifting his eyes to Langley, who dropped into the chair beside him. He signaled the barmaid for another round. His eyes burned. He hadn’t slept for two bloody nights. At least at Westbridge Park, he had tossed and turned. Back at Willoughby Castle, he had no peace. He should never have left. But Christ, what else had he been supposed to do? Lounge about while Rebecca refused to leave her chamber? While she avoided him and the desire he ignited in her? He sighed.

“You missed quite the night, cousin.”

“Oh?”

“The masquerade ball,” Langley said. “Lysander Rothchild stumbled into the ballroom foxed. Caused quite the scene.”

“I am not one for gossip.” Except if the gossip revolved around Rebecca. Then he was all ears.

“Not even Mother badgering me to court Stapleton’s ward?”

Wolfstan’s ears did perk at that, but only because nothing would make him happier than if Langley married Stapleton’s ward.

“Not that I have anything against the chit,” Langley droned on. “Quite fetching but not to my style. Luckily, she hasn’t arrived for the merriment yet. I have another lady in mind.”

Wolfstan’s knuckles whitened as he gripped his mug.

“I am not against taking a bride, but I must at least find my wife accommodating.”

Wolfstan tossed back his ale.

“You must have an abundance of accommodating ladies in your acquaintance,” Wolfstan bit out.

The barmaid sashayed over with more ale.

“None of whom I find the least bit as entertaining as Lady Rebecca.”

He choked back a curse. “You plan to court Rebecca?”

Langley sent him a thoughtful look. “Would you object if I did? I know you have been long-standing friends.”

Abso-bloody-lutely he would object. He would kidnap Rebecca and hold her prisoner in a castle in Wales before he let Langley have her. He would also never admit that to his cousin, who seemed hell-bent on drawing a reaction from him. “Your question would be better directed at Lonsdale.”

“Indeed. Lady Rebecca has grown into quite the beauty, and she possesses an amicable temper. She would make the perfect bride.”

Amicable, Wolfstan’s ass.

He took another swig of ale. The woman had the disposition of a viper when she was provoked. But would Langley know that? Of course, not. He did not know Rebecca at all. Not like Wolfstan did. Langley had never kissed her, touched her, brought her to feverish heights, and he never would.

Langley leaned in close. “Lady Rebecca will be arriving at Willoughby Castle any moment now.”

Wolfstan slammed the mug back on the table mid-swig. Ale spilled over the rim. “What did you say?”

Langley laughed. “Ah, certain gossip does appeal to you, heh?”

“You are out to provoke me.”

“Can’t seem to help myself. You did make a snowwoman out of her.”

“What of it?”

Langley’s eyes crinkled in a way that made Wolfstan want to punch his cousin.

The door of the tavern opened and a gust of wind blew in a cold breeze. Wolfstan nursed his ale, his gaze flicking dismissively over the long black cloak of the small figure who’d entered. “How did you find me anyhow?” he asked Langley.

“I do believe my eyes are deceiving me.”

Wolfstan frowned at Langley. He followed his gaze to the booth Langley seemed to be riveted upon. “What is it?”

“Do not look now, cousin, but Lady Rebecca just entered the Queen’s Arms.”

Wolfstan snorted. “Rebecca in a tavern? Not bloody likely.”

Langley turned to him. “It is not beyond the scope of possibility.”

Wolfstan cocked his head to study the woman. She sat with her back to them, her cloak still covering her head. The tavern was darkly lit, and it was impossible to be sure. Still, Rebecca had no business in a tavern.

“It is not her.” He stared at Langley. “You invited Rebecca to Willoughby Castle and she accepted?”

Langley nodded. “Quite unexpected. I believe she will be attending the Twelfth Night Ball as well.”

“Are the rumors circling true? Are you in the market for a wife?”

Langley’s horrified gaze whipped to him. “Rumors that I am . . . Dammit, my mother must be at it again.”

“So you are not in the market for a wife?”

“No.”

“Yet you plan to court Rebecca?” Wolfstan pressed.

“After the way the two of you bicker like man and wife? No. I was merely teasing a reaction from you.” Langley’s eyes strayed to the woman again. “Are you certain that is not Lady Rebecca?”

“Yes.”

“Would you