Miss Mistletoe Excerpt


Miss Mistletoe - A Sealed With a Kiss Christmas Novella
Excerpt

She closed her eyes, assaulted by a barrage of memories so strong, it was as if she were once again standing in Aunt Vivian’s ballroom, surrounded by the trimmings of Christmas and the low roar of a hundred guests laughing and making merry.
She had strategically situated herself beside the mistletoe, hoping against hope that Finn would reemerge from wherever he and Richard had gotten off to. She knew there wasn’t much time, and each second that ticked by was both unbearably slow and entirely too fast. Nervousness had her belly doing somersaults, and she pressed a hand to her middle in the vain effort to quell her fluttering nerves. Her eyes darted to the arching doorway above her for perhaps the twentieth time in the past ten minutes. Of course, nothing had changed in the last fifteen seconds.
There were still only two berries left on the mistletoe.
Two.
She swallowed, glancing around the crowded room. Blast—where were they? She willed the people around her not to approach the alcove in which the bough was hung, not to kiss one another and carelessly strip one of the few remaining precious berries from the mistletoe. She knew the tradition—once the berries were gone, that was it. No more kissing until next Christmas.
The problem was, she couldn’t wait until next year. There was no telling if he would even be here then. She had waited for at least seven of her sixteen years to be noticed by him—if it didn’t happen tonight, then it never would. Since he had graduated from Eton last spring, she knew there would be no more summers together at Hertford, where she visited her cousins, and Finn rusticated with Richard for a few weeks before their next semester began. Soon he would be off to university—Oxford to Richard’s Cambridge—and if he was to think of her ever again, she had to do something he wouldn’t forget. Something that would open his eyes to her, and force him to see her as the young lady she was becoming, and not the girl she had been.
And this was her chance.
At last she saw him, his dark mahogany head catching her eye as he and Richard entered the back of the ballroom. Relief and hope washed through her like a cool breeze in the overheated room. She had only to catch their eye—a friendly wave should be enough to get them to come say hello.
Another guest, Mr. Brody, stepped into her line of vision then, and Cece suppressed a groan. Being short was such an inconvenience. Her irritation was quickly replaced by alarm as the man started toward the mistletoe, Miss Carrington giggling at his side. Oh no—the two of them were practically betrothed! They wouldn’t hesitate to take part in this particular Christmas tradition.
But even as she longed to block their path, Cece knew there was nothing to be done. She watched helplessly as they stepped beneath the waxy green leaves. Mr. Brody pressed his lips to his sweetheart’s cheek, then winked at the crowd as they smiled indulgently. When the deed was done, he reached up and plucked a berry from the arrangement before escorting Miss Carrington to the punch table.
Only one berry remained. One precious, irreplaceable berry that could mean the difference between finally catching Finn’s notice and losing him forever.
As if sensing her desperation, Richard suddenly looked up. Their eyes met and she lifted a hand to beckon him over. Her cousin grinned and nodded, tapping Finn on the shoulder and pointing in her direction.
Cece’s blood went first cold then boiling hot as the corner of Finn’s lip tilted up in a slight smile before he started toward them. He was coming! The knot of tension in the middle of her chest loosened a little more with each step they took. It was an absolute wonder that no one seemed to notice the thundering of Cece’s heart as she looked from the last, tiny white berry, to Finn, and back. They were almost there. If no one else stepped up in the next fifteen seconds, then her plan might work.
Richard and Finn were saying something to each other, laughing as they slipped through the crowd toward her. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Cece stepped to her right, finally positioning herself beneath the mistletoe. She desperately tried to act as though she had no idea that the festive greenery was suspended above her, an earthly halo that would make her dreams come true.
“Well, look who it is,” Finn said, smiling at her as he and Richard came to a stop in front of her. “How different to see you in your Christmas finery, and not the light muslins of summer.”
Cece smiled, allowing herself to be lost in the deep green of his eyes. “Good evening, Finn—I mean, Mr. Edgerton. You are looking well this evening.” She imagined that she could make out his woodsy scent among the cinnamon, nutmeg, and spirits flavoring the air.
He leaned the slightest bit forward, his eyes flitting down her frame and back up again. “Not nearly so well as you, Cece.”
The hair on the back of her exposed neck stood on end, and she scarcely dared to breathe. This was it. He would lean in now, he would kiss her, and the taste of his lips would flavor hers for eternity, as she would never let anything touch them again.
“Thank you,” she responded, her throat so tight the words were barely above a whisper. She unconsciously licked her lips, glad that the beeswax balm she’d stolen from Evie had made them soft and supple despite the punishing weather they were having.
“Well, look at that,” Richard said, pointing above Cece’s head. “You’re under the mistletoe, little cousin.”
The heat that swept Cece’s cheeks was swift and searing. Leave it to her cousin to get to get to the point of the matter. Cece looked up and gave a nervous little laugh. “I am, aren’t I?”
Her eyes flitted to Finn, but she was so nervous she couldn’t even meet his eyes. Instead, she let her gaze fall to somewhere in the vicinity of Richard’s shoulder while she lifted her cheek slightly, like an offering to the gods.
Richard chuckled. “Well, never let it be said that we Moores don’t appreciate tradition.”
What? What did he mean by . . .
Her eyes went wide as she realized what he was about to do. No—Finn was supposed to kiss her, not Richard! But before she could muster any sort of response, her cousin pecked her upturned cheek, exactly as a brother or father might. She stood frozen in horror as he reached up, plucked the very last berry from the mistletoe, and held it aloft. “Last of the kisses, my friends.”
There was a smattering of applause from those nearby, all completely oblivious to her devastation. Richard smiled at her and turned to leave, and Finn followed suit. No, this couldn’t be happening! This was supposed to be her moment, the one she had waited hours, days, perhaps even years for.
As Finn took a step away, she saw the moment for what it was: her absolute last chance. If she didn’t give him a reason to think of her as a grown woman, then he would walk away and forget her for the girl she was.
Without thinking, she lurched forward, not even knowing what she was about to do. Her hand closed around his wrist and he stopped at once, turning with his brow knitted in question.
She didn’t pause, didn’t consider any of the thousands of repercussions the moment, played out in front of a whole room full of people, could bring. Instead, she sucked in a breath, raised on her toes, and pressed her lips to his.