Page 80 of How the Belle Stole Christmas

Catriona found herself feeling exhausted from the events of the day. After eating the stew, she headed straight to bed.

When she awoke the next morning, her bedroom was uncommonly bright. Stuffing her feet into her slippers, she crossed to the window, then gasped.

As far as the eye could see, the landscape was frosted in brilliant, white snow. It wasn’t the usual soggy half-inch that would be trod into mud by noon. It looked as if at least two feet had fallen overnight.

Not bothering to dress, Catriona pulled on her wrapper and padded down the stairs in her slippers. “Mother?” she called as she descended. “Father? Where is everyone?”

She made a quick search of the downstairs chambers. The castle certainly appeared deserted, but there was only one way to be sure.

Duff kept a pair of old boots and a greatcoat near the back door. Catriona slipped them on, then trudged through snow that came halfway up her thighs to the stables.

Inside, things were as still as a tomb. There wasn’t a horse to be seen, and even the barn cats seemed to have abandoned their duties in favor of a snug spot in the hayloft.

Catriona returned to the castle in a daze. Her family had not returned. The snowfall must’ve prevented them from making the journey. Except… it hadn’t started to snow in earnest until after nightfall. Surely, they would have noticed her absence earlier than that!

Wouldn’t they?

One thing was clear—the roads were now impassible, and given the frigid bite of the air, the snow wouldn’t be melting away any time soon.

Which meant she would be spending Christmas without her family.

Catriona closed the door behind her, turning that thought over in her head as she exchanged Duff’s boots for her slippers. ’Twas a bleak prospect, spending Christmas all alone.

Wasn’t it?

“What is the matter with you?”

“You’re what the French call passé.”

“Quit yer blethering!”

“Your little trinkets aren’t that important.”

“There’s no room for you.”

“There are thirteen of us going on this trip, and ye’re the only one causing trouble.”

“Look what ye’ve done, ye little eejit!”

Much to Catriona’s surprise, her chest expanded. She felt as if a weight she had been carrying for so long she no longer noticed it had been lifted from her shoulders.

Reaching the entrance hall, she spun in a circle, a grin splitting her face. “I’m spending Christmas all alone!” she shouted toward the rafters above.

She practically skipped down the stairs to the kitchen.

Embers still glowed in the hearth. She tossed a few peat bricks into the grate, and the room started to warm.

Catriona didn’t know much about cooking, but there were two loaves in the bread box.

After putting on the kettle, she cut four thick slices of the bread, then toasted them over the fire until they were crisp.

Cackling aloud, she pulled out a pot of marmalade and placed it on a tray along with her tea and toast. Marmalade was Meaghan’s favorite, and any time Catriona reached for it, her parents would swat her hand away, insisting that she should save the expensive treat for her sister.

She had observed that they never did the same thing to Duff when he wanted some.

But there was no one to stop her today! Catriona carried her breakfast into the great hall and set it before her father’s place at the head of the table.

With an evil grin, she settled into his chair, propping her stockinged feet on the table.

She smeared a thick layer of gooey marmalade across her toast. “I’m eating yer marmalade, Meaghan!

” she called, even though there was no one around to hear.

“I’m sitting in Da’s chair! And I have my feet up on the table! ”

“Shiver me timbers!” came a voice from the door. Catriona started but relaxed when she saw that it was only Morrigan, who came hopping into the room.

“Morrigan!” She patted the table, which was normally forbidden territory for the raven, encouraging her pet to fly up. She tore off a piece of her toast and offered it to the bird. “Do ye like marmalade, too? Let’s find out, shall we?”

It turned out that Morrigan did, indeed, like marmalade, and they passed a companionable breakfast together, with Catriona feeding her pet bits of toast.

When she finished eating, Catriona rose, not bothering to clear her dishes. “Let’s see what Duff has been hiding in that trunk he keeps locked, shall we?”

Morrigan fluttered off, so Catriona headed upstairs alone.

Once she reached Duff’s room, she made a quick fire, then spent ten fruitless minutes trying to pick the trunk’s lock with a hairpin.

She decided to snoop through the rest of the room and, in a stroke of luck, she found the key inside a silver cup Duff had won in a golfing tournament.

Kneeling before the trunk, Catriona gave a wiggle of anticipation.

She lifted the lid and discovered… mostly books?

To be sure, there was also a stack of letters tied up with a red ribbon, which she felt too guilty to read, and a purse containing fourteen pounds.

That could come in handy in an emergency, not that she could reach any place where she could spend it.

But the rest of the trunk’s space was occupied with stack after stack of books.

Catriona pulled out one of the large ones and opened it to a random page. What she saw made her gasp and drop the book.

She picked it up with trembling fingers.

It fell open on the same page. Six naked bodies were displayed before her—one man and five women.

Three of the women were touching the man—two of them stroking his man-part, which was pointing upward.

Catriona squinted at the hitherto mysterious member.

The proportions shown seemed unlikely, at best. The remaining two women were touching each other, and she meant between their legs!

The man had a dunderheaded sort of smile on his face.

Well, no wonder he was happy, with five women to fawn over him!

Catriona flipped the page, then immediately checked to make sure she wasn’t holding the book upside down. Was that position even possible? Both anatomically and according to the laws of gravity? She shook her head and turned the page again.

Once she’d finished flipping through the first book, she glanced through the other books in the trunk.

They proved to be more of the same. Duff had quite the collection—Catriona counted seven hardbound books that were primarily prints.

Some of them were even in color! There were even more cheap-looking chapbooks that had only the occasional picture and appeared to contain tawdry tales.

Catriona was definitely planning on reading those.

Her father wouldn’t even let her read Gothic novels, so this was a good opportunity to obtain some useful information.

Although… Catriona wasn’t sure the information would prove all that useful.

What man would want to marry a strange girl who spent her spare minutes digging in the mud, looking for Viking artifacts?

She was never going to have a husband with whom to engage in the scandalous acts depicted on the pages.

Nevertheless, she was curious. Selecting a few of the books, she flopped onto Duff’s bed.

Looking at the pictures made her feel strange inside.

Sort-of… squirmy, if that was even a word, and oddly loose-jointed, as if her thighs might fall open for absolutely no reason.

Also, a bit itchy, as if she wanted to scratch herself between her legs.

Although perhaps itchy wasn’t quite the word…

Catriona closed the book with a snap. She wasn’t sure what was happening to her, nor could she decide whether she liked it or not.

Deciding to go outside, she headed for her own room.

It was a stroke of luck that she had allowed her sister to fill her trunk with the flimsy silks and satins she seldom wore.

Otherwise, her more practical garments would be halfway to France by now.

She donned three flannel petticoats and a warm wool dress.

Her boots didn’t fit after she layered on three pairs of stockings, but that was all right. She could wear Duff’s again.

She pulled on her plain wool cloak and went downstairs.

After exchanging her slippers for Duff’s old boots, she headed outside.

The snow was deep, but it was of a light, fluffy sort, and she was able to trudge through it without too much trouble.

She didn’t have much luck at packing it into snowballs, but Morrigan fluttered over, and they had a grand time gallivanting about in the drifts, kicking up sprays of fluffy, white crystals.

Catriona even tried her hand at making a few snow angels.

That caused the snow to seep through her cloak. She was about ready to go inside for a warm-up, anyway. She changed into dry clothes, hanging her wet things before the fire in her bedroom, and went downstairs in search of some lunch.

Catriona was slightly stumped as she entered the kitchen, as she didn’t have any experience with cooking.

Then, it occurred to her—toasted cheese!

It was once her favorite meal, but after she turned fourteen, her father had insisted it was too childish for a young lady.

Well, a quick search of the kitchen revealed that she had all the ingredients at hand.

It seemed simple enough to prepare, and her father wasn’t here to stop her, now was he?