Read By Winter's Light: A Cynster Novel (Cynster Special Book 2) for Free Online Page A

sweetly turned hips encased in the rich red wool of her pelisse, he murmured to himself, “There’s always the return journey.”
    Making a mental note not to miss that opportunity, he settled to pushing the sled along and making the most of the moment.
    Ahead on the path, Louisa paused at the curve just before the first stand of tall firs enfolded their way in cooler shadow. She took only a second to look back and consider all she could see, then she quickened her pace, catching up with Annabelle, Juliet, and Therese.
    When they glanced at her, Louisa said, “Mistletoe. We need some.” She looked at Annabelle. “Does it grow in this wood? Do you know where?” Without waiting for an answer, Louisa raised her gaze and started scanning the trees.
    Annabelle turned, doing the same. Therese was quick to join in.
    “It does grow here, yes,” Annabelle said. “There should be quite a few clumps, but we’ll need to find some we can reach.”
    “Or that we can climb to,” Therese said.
    “I thought we were only supposed to get holly and fir,” Juliet said, although she, too, was looking for the telltale clumps of draping greenery; her tone made it clear the comment was an observation—a request for clarification, if anything, rather than a disagreement.
    “That’s what they said, but…well, what’s the point in hanging evergreens at Christmas if you don’t have mistletoe as well? Mind you,” Louisa continued as, with a gentle push, she started Annabelle and Juliet walking again, “I suspect Mrs. Meadows will try to discourage us from bringing it in, so I suggest we don’t mention it and hide it amongst the fir and holly.”
    Falling into step alongside Louisa, Therese cast her a sidelong look. “Is the mistletoe just for general fun or”—Therese glanced back along the path to where Claire walked just ahead of Daniel and the sled—“do you have someone—two someones—specifically in mind?”
    Louisa met Therese’s eyes and grinned. “I think Mr. Crosbie is sweet on Mrs. Meadows, and that she would be sweet on him if she gave herself the chance—and I like Mr. Crosbie, so I can’t see any reason why we shouldn’t just…” She gestured.
    “Nudge things along?” Therese chuckled. “You sound just like your grandmama.”
    “There!” Annabelle kept her voice down and surreptitiously pointed to their left, to where a huge clump of mistletoe was growing in a cleft only a yard off the ground. “There’s a clearing just ahead that will be perfect for leaving the sled. Then while we’re gathering fir and holly, we can circle around and pick some of that, too.”
    “There’s more on the right and some up ahead.” Juliet had very sharp eyes.
    “Plenty.” Louisa glanced at the others; the girls met each other’s eyes. “We’ve never played Cupid before.” Louisa grinned. “Think of it as a challenge. Let’s see how we do.”
     
    * * *
    Helena, Algaria, and McArdle were still in their chairs, dozing contentedly in the warmth, when the six oldest children straggled into the Great Hall and sat at the section of table they’d claimed as theirs—just below the dais and the high table at which their parents sat.
    Said parents had already come and gone, breakfasting on ham, sausages, eggs, bacon, and crisply toasted crumpets, leaving behind the tantalizing aromas of coffee and the cinnamon rolls all the ladies preferred. They’d shared their plans for the day with Helena, Algaria, and McArdle; subsequently, the men had headed out to inspect the herd of shaggy-coated Highland cattle, before continuing into Casphairn to lunch at the local inn. The ladies, meanwhile, had retired to Catriona’s solar, to sit, embroider, and talk of their children.
    The children most exercising their parents’ thoughts were the six who belatedly sat down to break their fast. Helena, feigning sleep, watched them from beneath her lashes. She saw them all often, yet because she did not meet them day by day, she