Page 42 of One Naughty Christmas Night

“I love you, too,” she replied. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

They stepped back into the ballroom and rejoined their families.

The next morning, Victoria opened her eyes to the sun streaming through her window.

She buried her face in the pillow, squealing as loud as she could into it.

Hopping out of her bed, she rushed to the vanity, her cheeks flushed and her eyes sparkling.

I’ve never felt so happy in my entire life.

“Heath loves me,” she whispered to the mirror, covering her face with her hands.

She took extra care with her dress for breakfast, deciding on her favorite white silk gown. The dress was cuffed with velvet and similar to the one Willie wore the night before.

A maid put her hair up in a high chignon, leaving curls to frame her face.

On her ears were the diamonds that Heath gave her for her eighteenth birthday, along with the pearl and diamond choker that her parents gifted her for Christmas when she was sixteen.

She floated down to breakfast, her mother immediately commenting on how happy she looked this morning.

“It’s Christmas!” she announced, coming over to kiss her mother. “I love Christmas.”

“Silly girl,” her mother replied, a grin filling her face.

Sammy entered the room and bounced over to the sideboard, her eyes rounding when she saw Victoria.

“Victoria, you look like a Christmas princess!” she cried, coming over to hug her legs.

“Do I?” she asked, setting the plate in her hand down.

Kneeling, she set the little girl back from her, taking in her Howard family plaid dress; her hair was barely contained in a bow of the same plaid.

“Sammy, you look like a plaid princess of Scotland,” she said, her little arms crossing.

“Plaid princess? Don’t be silly, Victoria, there’s no such thing,” she stated. They both turned to the door when Heath announced, “Of course there is. Plaid princess is the highest rank one can attain in Scotland.”

“Even higher than Grandpapa as a Duke?” she asked, looking at her grandparents.

“Of course,” the Duke boomed. “We all bow to our plaid princess.”

He bowed at the waist, Heath joining him as Victoria curtsied.

“You all are very silly,” Quinn announced, coming into the room, with Valentina on his arm.

The vision of Heath with a daughter of his own appeared, and Victoria’s stomach flip-flopped.

He set Sammy down, and she took off toward her parents.

“Good morning,” he said, warmth in his eyes.

“Good morning,” Victoria replied, forcing herself to keep a respectable distance between them.

They gathered their breakfast and took chairs next to one another, their legs pressed together under the table.

Everyone finished their breakfast, chatting among themselves when Quinn stood, taking Valentina’s hand to assist her.