Bunty laughed and ran to him, kissing him on his rosy cheek.
“As if you need mistletoe to get me to kiss either of you!” she exclaimed. “But it’s very pretty. I shall put a red ribbon on it and hang it up for you.”
“Oh, Master Luca, you look chilled through,” his nurse said as she bustled into the hallway. “Let’s get you in the bath and into clean clothes, quick smart, or you’ll not be ready in time for dinner.”
For once Luca needed no chivvying, as he’d seen the splendid feast Widdy had been preparing for days now.
“Baby is sleeping, and I’ll bring Miss Rose down to say goodnight in a bit, my lady,” the efficient Nurse Robinson informed Bunty, with a quick curtsey, before taking Luca’s hand and leading him off for his bath.
Bunty turned back to her husband.
“And what about you?” she asked, smiling at him. “Do I need to get you into a hot bath before dinner?”
Ludo returned a pleased grin but shook his head.
“No. Or, at least, in a minute,” he said. “I have something for you. Close your eyes.”
Bunty laughed and did as he asked, knowing that Ludo would spoil her this Christmas, as he always did. He was forever bringing her presents no matter how often she reassured him she did not need them, but he seemed to enjoy making a fuss of her, and she was hardly going to complain.
“You can open them now.”
Bunty gasped at the bouquet of Christmas roses he held out to her, and was at once transported back to their wedding night. He’d decorated his sparse rooms with Christmas roses for her, wanting to make the place welcoming for his new bride.
“Oh,” Bunty said, taking them from him with care. “Oh, Ludo, they’re so beautiful.”
“We found them down near the woods,” he said, his blue eyes alight with pleasure at having made her happy. “I’m going to get Mr Widdershins to plant some in the garden, too, outside your parlour. Then you’ll have them every Christmas.”
Bunty blinked hard and sniffled. Ludo chuckled, pulling her into his arms, careful not to crush the roses.
“Don’t cry.”
“I’m not crying,” she protested, as tears slid down her face.
Ludo touched her cheek and lifted his wet finger for her inspection.
“Proof positive. You’re a proper watering pot these past days, anyone would think—”
He closed his mouth with a snap and took a step back, inspecting her.
Bunty huffed. “Oh, and now you’ve spoiled my surprise. I was going to tell you in the morning.”
Ludo gave a crow of triumph and lifted her up into the air, spinning her around as Bunty shrieked. One of the downstairs maids came running to see what the commotion was about, saw them, blushed furiously, and darted away again.
“She’s new,” Ludo said, grinning. “She’s not used to us yet.”
Bunty snorted, wondering how she ever looked any of her staff in the eyes. Only the knowledge that they were all wildly jealous let her hold her head up.
“You’re sure?” he asked, setting her down gently, one large hand moving to cup her cheek.
“I am,” she said, smiling at him.
“How perfect,” he said with obvious pleasure. “You are quite perfectly perfect.”
Bunty made a sound of incredulity, but he smothered it, kissing her with slow and thorough attention until she remembered they were still standing in the hallway for all to see.
“That’s enough,” she protested half-heartedly. “Come along. You must get ready. Widdy will have your guts for garters if you make her spoil dinner. Besides which, I have something for you.”
“Oh?” he said, waggling his dark eyebrows at her suggestively.
“Not that,” she said, tsking at him. “There’s not time for that though… later.”
He sighed heavily, shaking his head with a mournful expression.
“Well, what is it, then? Nothing else will be half so exciting.”
Bunty waited until he had closed the bedroom door before setting down her bouquet and handing him the letter which had been burning a hole in her pocket. Ludo stared at it and his eyes met hers.
“Well, open it, then,” she said, praying it gave him the news he had been longing for.
Ludo tore open the seal and Bunty held her breath as he read, not daring to breathe until he looked up, his excitement palpable.
“It’s from him… from my father. He… he wants to meet me.”
Bunty gave a little shout of joy, for she knew what this meant to him. He laughed and pulled her close before turning his attention back to the letter.
“He’s been travelling the past few years, which is why we’ve had such trouble finding him. He says….” Ludo swallowed and tried again. “He says my mother was the love of his life, and he is overjoyed to discover he has a son, and… he can’t wait to meet me.”
“Oh, Ludo, that’s marvellous. I’m so happy for you.”
Ludo nodded and set the letter down before tugging her back into his arms. “He says he’ll come as soon as the weather improves.”
“He’ll be so proud of you, love,” Bunty said, hugging him. “I know I am.”
She watched him as he nodded, believing in himself now in a way he never had when she’d first met him.
“Do you believe in luck or fate?” he asked, frowning a little.
Bunty shrugged. “Perhaps, a little at least, but I think we make our own luck on the whole. Perhaps fate gives us a nudge now and then, but it’s what we do with it that counts.”
Ludo nodded and reached for one of the roses he’d picked, carefully threading it into her dark hair, behind her ear.
“Everything changed that night in the library. I’d never wanted anything like I wanted you, Bunty, so badly I could taste it. I’d have done anything to get you to marry me. When you practically landed in my lap….” He laughed, shaking his head. “I don’t know if it was fate, or luck, but whatever it was I thank my lucky stars, every day, and certainly every night.”
“I love you, Ludo,” Bunty said, holding him tightly, staring up at him, her own heart echoing everything he had just said.
He touched his finger to the flower in her hair and smiled. “And I you, my own Christmas rose.”
About Emma V. Leech
As an accomplished romance author, Emma won the world's largest online writing competition 'The Wattys' two years running. In 2018 two of her Rogues and Gentlemen novels were shortlisted for the Amazon UK Storyteller award, with two of the Girls Who Dare series shortlisted in 2019
Emma's novels have garnered attention worldwide. When she's not writing she strives to live as far from the real world as possible, otherwise, she can be found in Darkest Dordogne, South West France with her husband, three children, assorted cats and a wild imagination.
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