Page 3 of One Naughty Christmas Night

Heath kept his opinion on the matter to himself, preferring to avoid a fight.

“I understand.” His glass met the table with a loud clink. “If you’ll excuse me.”

It took him a half hour, but he located Victoria in the library, curled up on one of the many chaises in the room.

“Knock, knock,” he said, peeking into the room.

She glanced up from the book in her hand. “Hello there.”

“May I join you?” he asked.

“Of course,” she replied, tucking her skirts under her feet. Her shoes lay next to her on the floor, the gray the same shade as her morning gown.

He stepped inside and shut the door, looking around the large room.

The library was huge, with multiple floors of large bookshelves that covered almost every wall. There were two large windows in the back of the room, with an assortment of tufted couches placed up against them for readers to enjoy.

Three large wooden tables sat in the middle of the room, with a smattering of papers scattered across the tops. Heath and Quinn used those tables for studying when they were children and visiting the castle. Often when the Murray children were here with them, Mimi, their cook, would serve luncheon for them in here.

In the front of the room sat multiple chaise lounges like the one Victoria currently occupied, each one fitted in dark-blue silk, the frames intricate in design.

“Woolgathering?” she asked, drawing his attention back to her.

She lay against the side of one of the chaises, her book in her lap.

“Indeed,” he replied, coming to sit on the end of the chaise.

“Quinn told me an interesting fact before I left the parlor,” he said, reaching out to pick up one of the books that laid on the small table in front of him.

“Did he?” she asked, not looking up from her now-open book.

“He did. He said that James Bastion is coming to the Christmas party.”

“Is he?” she asked, still avoiding his gaze.

“I can only assume that’s the reason behind your hasty exit from the parlor. Lucinda does enjoy tormenting you so.”

The book thumped closed in her lap. “It might have been. I also might have mentioned to Lucinda that rumors of Ophelia’s beauty were abundant. And that she has a delightfully pert and small… nose.”

Heath steeled himself to keep from laughing.

“I know it’s petulant of me to say such a thing,” she said, her dress slipping from its tuck as she straightened. “I couldn’t help myself.”

“Lucinda was quite devastated when Bastion turned his attentions to you,” he replied, tugging the book from her lap. “Her excitement was unparalleled when he flattered her.”

“I felt awful when he tossed her aside for me, but I fell for the charm and was thoroughly entranced by him.”

“Well, we were all fooled by his charade as a gentleman,” he replied, her hand cold against his skin when he took it.

Bastion had requested an audience with Lord Murray, and the week before he was to meet with him, Bastion was discovered with Ophelia in her bed in her father’s house, effectively ending any chance he had with Victoria.

As far as he knew, there had been no apology on Bastion’s behalf, no attempts to make amends, and that made Heath’s blood boil.

He loved Victoria dearly, and for her to be hurt in such a way made him angry on her behalf.

“Woolgathering again?” she asked, squeezing his hand with hers.

“It’s nothing,” he said.