Lady Crenshaw's Christmas by Heidi Ashworth Page A

born a boy, and they might well return to the relative obscurity enjoyed by a mere baronet and his lady wife.
    So deep in thought was she that she was startled to find herself wrapped in a pair of gentle but unrelenting arms.
    “Anthony! I didn’t hear you come in!” she said.  She felt a little breathless but couldn’t be sure if it was due to the squeezing of her lungs or the smoldering in his eyes. 
    “You look ravishing in red,” he said between a pair of heady kisses. 
    “I shall be sure to order a dozen red gowns straightaway.  But first I must catch my breath!” Ginny pleaded. 
    With a sigh, he released her and pointed to the kissing ball with a twinkle in his eye.  “If we are to have only one ornament this Christmas, I am delighted it is this one!  However, the night of the ball, you shall go nowhere near it, if I have anything to say to it.”
    “You have nothing to say to it,” she said with a playful toss of her head.  “I am the hostess and as such expect to be kissed by a great many lords, all of them free of their wives’ tethers and sure to be slightly addled with drink.”
    “Hmmm,” Anthony intoned.  “I suppose one can expect nothing less, especially if your gown is as fetching as this.”
    “This old thing?” Ginny teased.  “True, it is silk but I intend to wear velvet for the ball.”
    “Velvet!  Between the mass of humanity, the roaring of the fireplace and the countless candles, it will be hot as Hades in the ballroom.  Are you sure?”
    “Yes,” Ginny insisted, weary of having all of her party plans questioned by one Crenshaw or another.  “It is much stiffer than silk and won’t cling so to my expanding girth.”
    “So long as it is red, none shall be able to tear his eyes away from the beauty of your face,” Anthony said, leaning in for another kiss.
    “Oh, no you don’t!” Ginny chided.  “I have much too much to do.  I am off to the library to sit by the fire and go over my lists,” she said, heading off at a brisk walk.  “That is to say, the final lists, those that have been approved by You Know Who.”
    Anthony, following along, took her hand and kissed it.  “Lead on.  I can think of nothing so welcome as to sit by the fire and reflect on the beauty of my wife for as long as she will have me.”
    Ginny suppressed a smile and pretended to be irked.  “What ever shall I do with you?  Shall I never know a moment’s peace?”
    Anthony cocked his head and looked thoughtful.  “I don’t expect you will,” he said with an air of great assurance.
    Laughing, they threw open the doors to the library to find themselves face to face with their shared relative, Ginny’s Grandaunt Regina, also known as Grandmama to Anthony.
    “Where have you two been?” she asked, aiming a glare of annoyance down her pointed nose.  “I have been waiting this age.”
    Ginny and Anthony exchanged a look.  “Grandaunt, did we have an appointment?” Ginny asked in as contrite a voice as she could muster.  “I am sorry.  I seem to have forgotten it.”
    “You are excused due to your condition,” the old lady said with a wave of her hand.  “But you, my most beloved grandson, have some explaining to do.”
    “Grandmama, if you recall, I asked that you put off this conversation.  I don’t wish to discuss the baby until after the Christmas celebrations.”  The severity of his voice was softened by the kiss he dropped onto his grandmother’s highly rouged cheek. 
    “If you recall, Tony, I refused to agree to such terms.  In a few days time the house will be full of guests, all of them rife with questions regarding Ginny’s all too obvious condition.  If you had thought to keep it a secret thus long, you should have insisted she stay away from sweetmeats and other goodies.”
    Ginny heard the gasp escape her mouth before she could stop it.  Biting her lip, she turned to face the fire, hoping the heat of the flames would be blamed for the rising tide