Once Upon a Christmas Kiss by Manda Collins Page B

“I am ashamed of myself for losing my temper like that. If one of my pupils had done such a thing I’d have blistered their ears with a scolding.”
    “Do not be too hard on yourself,” he said patting her arm. “Men have been provoked into duels by lesser annoyances.”
    She was grateful for his reassurance, but felt guilty all the same. However, dwelling on it would do no good, so she moved on to what Mrs. Green had said. “Did you believe her? About my fall and the message, I mean?”
    “I did,” he said with regret. “I really thought she was one of the most likely culprits, but unfortunately, her reaction was just too candid to ignore. There was no hesitation, and I think she was genuinely shocked about the message. For all that she clearly wished she’d thought of them first.”
    She gave a sigh of disappointment. “That’s what I thought too, though I was hoping you’d read her answers differently.”
    “We will find them, Winnie,” he said, turning to look her fully in the eyes. What she saw there was sympathy mixed with grim determination. And something else that she wasn’t quite ready to think about just yet. “I am sure of it.”
    Smiling, she nodded. “I think so too. I just hope we can manage it before too long. I’m tired of looking over my shoulder.”
    “Why don’t we go collect your gifts from Mr. Lindhurst and make our way to the inn,” he said. “I don’t know about you, but I’m ravenous.”
    Nodding, Winnie took his arm, grateful for the feeling of his strong body beside hers. Especially when she felt so vulnerable.

Chapter Eleven
    Lucien had difficulty shaking the sense of rage he’d felt that morning on Winnie’s behalf. He’d never struck a woman, and if Mrs. Green were a man, she’d have been nursing a sore jaw by now.
    The Hursts and their guests had left the warmth of the fire once more today, this time to trek into the wooded bit of parkland surrounding Sanditon House in search of greenery with which to decorate for the holiday. To add a bit of interest to the activity, before they set out, Hurst had divided them into two groups who would compete against one another to see who could bring in the most holly, ivy, evergreens, and mistletoe. Within a minute, wagers had been placed and rivalries had been formed.
    Lucien and Winnie had struck out on their own a little and were working on separate sections of the same tree.
    As he used his pocketknife of cut branches from a young fir, he reflected on his response that morning. There was something primitive about his need to protect Winnie. A new experience for him, but not unwelcome. It merely solidified his confidence that what he felt for her was just as deep as he’d first supposed. Some men might balk at the knowledge of such an attachment, but for some time now he’d felt a growing dissatisfaction with his solitary life. Now he suspected it had been meeting Winnie that prompted his restlessness. His betrothal to the lady gave him license to test the limits of his newfound possessiveness.
    It merely remained to be seen whether so independent a lady as Winnie would tolerate such high-handed behavior. She’d certainly seemed to appreciate it that morning, he thought with a certain smugness.
    “What are you grinning about?” she asked as she gathered pinecones from the snowy ground. “You look like the cat who got the cream.”
    “Who says I need a reason besides being in the company of a lovely lady with the Christmas holiday upon us?” he asked mildly, realizing that he did enjoy that sensation very much.
    “I don’t suppose you do,” she conceded. “Though our team might fare better in the competition if you spent more time cutting and less time flirting with me.”
    In answer, he shook down a bit of snow from the branch he was cutting.
    “You rascal! You did that on purpose.” Winnie untied her hat to shake the snow off.
    “An accident, my dear,” he said unrepentant, dropping the branch and then