Marian's Christmas Wish (32 page)

Alistair groaned. “Oh, do not mention our name. He has
two grandsons—”

“And they are perfect idiots,” declared Lord Ingraham. “I
mean to recommend St. Stephen’s to the archbishop when I write to him.”

Alistair groaned again, dragged himself to his feet,
and stirred the Christmas pudding vigorously. “For me, this time, Mare.”

Gilbert kissed Marian and cast a musing eye on the pot.
“I would like to eventually trounce you soundly at chess.”

“You and who else, my lord?” Marian asked.

He smiled down at her. “No one else, brat. My wish
stands.”