Page 18 of Marquess of Mistletoe

“I think they’ll suit,” Leo said. “I think they’ll suit wonderfully.”

“Not as wonderfully as we will,” Marielle replied. “When did you acquire this impetuous streak, Leopold? Kissing me without warning where any might see?”

Leo was happy to improve on his capacity for impetuosity, but he pointed upward. “Not impetuosity, Ellie my love. Seasonal good cheer.”

“Very well,” she said. “I will simply tell our children I married the Marquess of Mistletoe.”

“And you shall be my marchioness,” Leo replied, kissing her all over again.

Rafe and Petunia had enjoyed a full pot of tea before Leo and Marielle joined them, and Marielle’s endearment became a family legend—Leopold came to expect seasonal revivals of his title as Marquess of Mistletoe, and with the aid of his devoted marchioness, lived up to her expectations every single time they found themselves beneath a bundle of holiday mistletoe.

THE END!