Christmas At Thorncliff Towers by Marina Myles Page A

was rendered, his curse would linger forever, unless he changed his heartless ways.
    It had been suggested that Lord Winthrop’s beautiful wife, Isabella, was in the midst of increasing the earl’s capacity to love. But Constantin doubted she could.
    Considering his brother to be in danger, Constantin had done everything in his power to persuade Winthrop to allow him to take Viktor’s place. Winthrop had finally agreed—but not without a fight.
    “No one steals from me!” the stone-hearted earl had thundered during that confrontation. “I demand that the debt your brother incurred be repaid in full!”
    An eye for an eye.
    One brother for another.
    Two punishments for a single mistake.
    That’s what Winthrop had insisted on.
    It wasn’t fair . Still, Constantin thought, here I am, stuck at Thorncliff Towers . . . risking my own life under the threat of Winthrop’s werewolf shadow.
    Christ. He picked up a pebble and tossed it over the cliff. There was only one person to blame for his predicament: Karina Petri.
    “I’ve always said she was nothing but trouble,” he murmured.
    Like day contrasts night, Karina and Constantin were opposites. He wasn’t the most boisterous man in the room, but he was decent and good. Karina, on the other hand, was mischievous, bold, and stubborn. God. Why the hell couldn’t he shake the memory of her from his mind?
    Because they’d been friends since they were children, that’s why. Karina always claimed Constantin was a stick-in-the-mud that never bent the rules. And he would tease her that her knack for trouble might land her in prison one day. But the teasing was always done in jest. They’d been best friends, comrades in adventure. At one point, he’d considered making Karina his girl.
    At remote Thorncliff Towers, Constantin missed her dark, flashing eyes, her beautiful face, and the excitement she brought to every situation. More than that, he missed their strong friendship. For years they’d shared a bond of trust.
    All of that had changed when Karina talked Viktor into stealing food from Lord Winthrop’s kitchen.
    Constantin shook his head. “Forgiveness” was one notion that couldn’t be likened to himself and Christmas.
    There was a gentle tug at his coat hem. He looked down. “Grace Ann!”
    An adorable six-year-old girl smiled up at him. He smiled back.
    “Hello, Constantin.” When she reached her chubby hands toward him, he picked her up and gave her a cuddle.
    “Whatever are you doing out here, my dear? And without a coat.”
    “I just had the most delicious hot cider.” She dropped her grin a moment later. “And the most disgusting fruitcake.”
    He laughed. “Usually Mrs. Tidwell is a better cook than that.”
    She hugged him tightly around his neck. “I do like her game hens. I’ll miss them when I leave next week.”
    “Yes.” He pushed a lump down his throat. “Back to London it is, eh?”
    Grace Ann nodded. “I’ll miss you.”
    “I’ll miss you, too.”
    “You and Lady Winthrop are the only nice people here.”
    “I was nice enough to give you horse riding lessons, wasn’t I?” he teased.
    “Oh, yes! Thank you for letting me practice on Sugarplum.”
    Constantin’s lips quirked. The horse’s real name was Dante, but Grace Ann insisted on calling it something sweeter. “You’re welcome.”
    Bundling her in one arm and leaning on his cane, he headed back to the house. “Did Lady Winthrop help you trim the tree?”
    “The decorations are hung but I want you to help me put the angel on top.”
    “You know I’m not allowed in the drawing room,” Constantin said. “Lord Winthrop’s orders.”
    “Lord Winthrop is a mean old man.”
    “Old? He’s not even thirty!”
    “Well, he acts as though he’s old.”
    “And how do old people act?”
    “Crotchety and impatient.”
    “Then you’re right. He’s very old.”
    “You’re not like him,” she said.
    “Thank heavens!” he whispered in her ear, making her giggle until