It Happened Under the Mistletoe: A Holiday Novella by Valerie Bowman Page A

slip through it without looking? Was she brave enough to attempt it or would she merely end up tripping and making a fool of herself only to look up and see Oliver handing over that stupid branch to Lady Selina? She could just picture the smug look on the younger woman’s face now.
    A shadow fell across her slippers. Cerian looked up.
    She gasped.
    There, standing in front of her, offering the bough of mistletoe, was Oliver.
    “Miss Blake,” he said, his bright blue eyes shining. “Would you do me the honor?”
    Cerian’s voice caught. Her breathing hitched. She tried to push the word ‘yes’ past her dry lips but it wouldn’t budge. All she could do was stare up at him with wide eyes and dumbly nod.
    Lady Selina grasped her throat as if she were choking.
    “Your grace?” Lady Kinsey’s voice came cutting through the silence that hung in the room.
    Oliver half turned as if to hear her better. “Yes, my lady?”
    The matron’s face was bright red and she looked as if she was on the verge of an apoplectic fit. “Your grace, I believe you’ve made a mistake, haven’t you ?” The last two words were laced with such venom and innuendo, Cerian wondered at their earlier conversation.
    Oliver didn’t bother to turn and face the woman. “No, Lady Kinsey. There’s been no mistake.”
    Lady Kinsey’s entire body shook with rage. “You choose this nobody ?”
    Oliver spun on his heel to face Lady Kinsey this time. “I’d watch what you say, my lady. You’re speaking of my future wife.”
    Cerian and Lady Selina simultaneously gasped. Lady Kinsey raised a fist. “Your family name won’t withstand this! You’ll both be outcasts!”
    Lord Medford stepped in deftly just then and said, “It appears you’re correct, Lady Kinsey. There has, indeed, been a mistake. A grave one, I’m afraid.”
    Lady Kinsey raised her chin a notch and gave Cerian and Oliver a haughty, triumphant stare. “I thought so,” she intoned without actually turning her attention to Lord Medford.
    “The mistake was made when you and your daughter were invited to this house party, my lady,” Medford said, a completely blank look on his face. “If you’ll allow me to escort you to the door, the mistake can be remedied posthaste.”
    Medford offered an arm. The look of horror on Lady Kinsey’s face rivaled the look of triumphant joy that Cerian knew was on her own. She raised her chin a notch this time.
    Lady Kinsey savagely gripped her skirts in both hands. “I’ll see myself out, Medford,” she lashed at him. She quickly marched past all of the gaping mouths in the drawing room and out the door. Lady Selina burst into fake-sounding tears and followed her.
    Oliver turned back to Cerian and fell to one knee. Cerian clutched the mistletoe like a lifeline.
    “You didn’t answer, Miss Blake. Will you be my wife?”
    Cerian pulled Oliver to his feet and motioned for him to lean down so she could whisper in his ear. “Is this part of our pretend relationship?”
    “No. Why? Would you prefer that?” He grinned.
    “No.”
    “I’m glad you said that because I was hoping you’d agree to be the Duchess of Markingham.”
    “I don’t know how to be a duchess,” she said, feeling the eyes of everyone in the drawing room upon them.
    “You’re in perfect company then because I don’t know how to be a duke. We’ll learn together.”
    “What if I trip in front of the queen or use the incorrect form of address when speaking to a baron or something?”
    Oliver watched her face, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “God, Cerian. You make me laugh even when I’m proposing marriage to you.”
    From the corner of her eyes, Cerian saw Mama turning a mottled shade of purple. No doubt the woman was about to have a fit while her daughter took her time saying yes to a proposal from a duke.
    Cerian bit her lip. Her foot was tapping in its predictably embarrassing woodpecker-like manner. She couldn’t capitulate so easily, however. There