The Christmas Vigil (19 page)

EPILOGUE

Duncan

Grafton, New South Wales

Christmas Day

The delighted squeals of the children sent a surge of joy straight to Duncan’s heart. Riley’s twins, Rosie and Daisy, chased after one another around the living room with dolls and spades and sand buckets clutched beneath their arms. Their parents shook their heads in exasperation and asked for them to stop, but to little avail.

Brandon and Alex snuggled on the couch, their three-day-old baby son, Justin, cradled lovingly in their arms. Their daughter, Bella, sat at their feet, engrossed in a new toy that rattled and rolled and played music.

Chloe returned from yet another trip to the bathroom looking pale and drawn. It might have been Christmas Day and she might have been three months along, but her morning sickness hadn’t let up and was beginning to take its toll. She took her seat beside Declan and Jessie and offered her husband a shrug and a tiny smile. Declan pulled his wife close and pressed a loving kiss on her forehead.

Tom and Lily sat together at the other end of the couch. With their fingers entwined, they murmured and softly laughed while they watched the younger children play. Cassie and Joe had gone outside, enthralled with their Christmas gifts. For Joe, it was an iPad and for Cassie, a new smart phone.

Clayton and Ellie stood off to one side, their faces taut and distant. Duncan sighed inwardly and hoped they’d work things out. He’d tried to talk to his son earlier, when he’d noticed the obvious strain between Clayton and his wife, but Clayton had brushed his efforts aside and Duncan backed away. He respected their need for privacy and to sort out their problems on their own. He only prayed there wouldn’t be lasting damage; the kind that never heals.

Olivia had removed herself from the gathering as soon as the gift giving had finished. He hadn’t failed to notice she’d only thanked her father. Of course, the boys had more than made up for her lack of exuberance. Mitchell and Damon had almost bowled Ellie over in their enthusiasm to show their mother what Santa had left for them under the tree. She’d smiled and hugged both of them close, but Duncan had caught the sparkle of tears in her eyes. The sight broke his heart.

He stirred from his position in his favorite armchair and the girls at his feet turned as one, identical expressions of concern on their faces.

“Are you all right, Dad?” asked Josie.

“Can I get you anything, Daddy?” asked Chanel.

He leaned forward and ruffled their hair with his hand, like he used to when they were young. “No, thank you, sweetheart,” he said to his youngest and then turned his gaze on Josie.

“I’m fine, darling, but I think all that gift giving has worn me out. Not to mention the huge portion of Christmas lunch I consumed. I think I might go upstairs.”

Josie smiled. “Okay, Dad. Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

He looked across at his wife who stood on the other side of the room. She was untangling a toy fishing line from the hair of one of Clayton’s sons. The boy’s brother looked on nearby, trying desperately to hide his guilt. Duncan covered his mouth to contain a chuckle.

As if she sensed his gaze, Marguerite looked up and smiled. His heart thumped hard with emotion.

God, he loved her.

He raised an eyebrow and indicated the stairs with his head. Her smile widened and her eyes sparkled with sudden mischief. He pushed himself upright and his daughters moved out of the way. Suddenly eager to get to the bedroom, he made haste across the living room floor.

“I’m taking a nap,” he muttered to anyone who cared to listen.

He’d barely turned down the bed when he heard her open the door. She closed it silently behind her and swung slowly around to face him. She stared at him with eyes that were already shadowed with desire. The familiar spark surged through him. After all these years, he still wanted her.

“It’s not too soon, is it?” she asked.

“No, the doctor cleared me for gentle exercise yesterday morning and then he wished me a Merry Christmas.”

She smiled and her eyes teased him. “I guess I can be gentle.” With tender fingers, she touched the wound on the side of his head. The bandages had been removed before he’d been discharged, but the incision had been covered with a dressing. Marguerite had been given the job of cleaning it twice a day with Betadine and peroxide.

She stepped back and he watched while she undid the buttons of her blouse of Christmas red. It fell from her shoulders. Her straight, fitted skirt soon followed. She stood before him, proud and beautiful, in nothing but her underwear.

He moved to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Reaching inside, he pulled out the red velvet jeweller’s box. The police had recovered it from the hotel and had given it to him, along with the suitcase of other things. The constable who had handed it to him had blushed to the roots of his hair. Duncan had refrained from making a comment.

He came up behind his wife and put his hands on her shoulders, pressing his lips against the silkiness of her bare skin. She shivered under his attentions and his body stirred in anticipation.

“I have a gift for you,” he murmured between kisses.

“Mm?”
she murmured and moved her head to give him greater access to her neck.

He kissed her again and then withdrew. She turned slowly to face him. He held the necklace in both hands. “Happy anniversary,” he whispered.

Her eyes went wide. “Duncan, it’s beautiful. Where ever did you find it?” She reached for it and he laid it flat against his palm.

“In a jeweller’s store up the coast. It reminded me of you the moment I saw it. The diamonds remind me of your sparkle and light. The rubies remind me of your lips. The sapphires remind me of your beautiful eyes and then there’s the heavy gold chain. It reminds me of the color of your hair and your skin in the summer sun—and the price of it…” He winked at her and smiled. “The price of it reminds me that no money could buy what you’ve given me over the years. Your value can never be measured.”

By the end of his little speech, she had her hands up to her mouth and tears sparkled in her eyes.

“Hey,” he protested gently, “I didn’t mean to make you cry.”

“They’re tears of joy,” she whispered and kissed him softly on the lips.

“I’m glad, because I haven’t finished yet.” He went over to the closet. Pulling open the door, he retrieved the second gift he’d stowed there. “Merry Christmas, my darling.”

“What is it?”

“You’ll have to open it.”

Carefully, she unwrapped the large present and then gasped when she saw what it was. A painting of the two of them as they’d been not long after they’d married. Young and just as in love as they were now.

“I commissioned Susan to paint it. I meant to collect it the day I fell ill. I guess that’s why it was playing on my mind; why I mentioned Susan’s name in the hospital. I was concerned I’d forgotten to get it. I didn’t want it to go missing.”

“Oh, Duncan, it’s beautiful. I love it!” She leaned close and offered him a kiss.

“I’m glad,” he murmured and kissed her back.

The kiss turned heated and his lips moved over hers. Pulling away, he undid the clasp of the necklace and fixed it around her neck before taking her back in his arms. He slanted his mouth against hers and deepened the kiss, loving the feel of her. She tasted of brandy and Christmas pudding and custard. She tasted of love.

With increasing urgency, his hands went to his polo shirt and he dragged it over his head. His shorts followed. Glancing across the room, he spied the windows and cursed beneath his breath. Striding across the room, he drew the drapes against the summer heat and flicked the thermostat on the cooler to low.

Marguerite’s hands went around her back and she fumbled with the clasp of her bra.

“Here, let me,” he murmured and brushed her fingers aside.

The lacy, black undergarment fell to the carpet and joined the growing pile of clothes. His hands went immediately to her breasts and he sighed in contentment. He bent his head and pressed kisses across her chest.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

She blushed and looked away. “I’m sixty-five years old.”

“Twenty-five. Sixty-five. Ninety-five. Age is just a number. It’s what’s in here that counts.” He pressed a hand to his heart. “You’ll always be the girl that I married and I’ll love you until I die.”

She put her arms around him and her eyes filled with love. “You’re my one and only, Duncan. You’re my love. You’re my life.”

He pulled her closer and rested his cheek on the top of her head, breathing in the sweet scent of her hair. As tall as she was, he was taller and she fit neatly under the crook of his arm. It had always been that way and it always would be.

’Til death do we part.

NOTE TO READERS

I do hope you have enjoyed reading Duncan and Marguerite’s story. Please feel free to leave a review for The Christmas Vigil. Every review is appreciated and really helps a new author like me.

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The Ransom—Book Seven in the Munro Family Series
is the next book in the Munro Family Series and is Lane and Zara’s story.

Here’s a sneak peek:

When Ellie Cooper married Clayton Munro, she was hopeful his daughter, Olivia would accept her into her life. Six years later, despite all of Ellie’s efforts, the ten-year-old continues to reject her at every turn. Then Olivia goes missing while in Ellie’s care…

Detective Senior Sergeant Lane Black of the New South Wales State Crime Command catches the case. A child is missing, presumed kidnapped and time is of the essence. To complicate matters, the State Attorney General’s youngest daughter was present at the time of the kidnapping. The girls look very alike. Could it be a case of mistaken identity?

When the Attorney General, David Dowton, is told his daughter’s best friend has been kidnapped, he’s immediately assailed with guilt. He knows the abduction has nothing to do with his daughter or her friend. He agonizes over what to tell the police. He certainly can’t tell them the truth.

When Lane interviews David, his suspicions are aroused. Why is the man so nervous? David’s oldest daughter, Zara, is also on edge. Immediately drawn to her exotic beauty, Lane does his best to remain unmoved and impartial. A child is missing. He needs to put together the pieces to find her before it’s too late.

Will the Dowtons cooperate with his investigation? What are they hiding…and why?

The Ransom
will be released on 5 January, 2015 and is AVAILABLE NOW for pre-order.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Chris Taylor grew up on a farm in north-west New South Wales, Australia. She always had a thirst for stories and recalls writing her first book at the ripe old age of eight. Always a lover of romance and happily-ever-afters, a career in criminal law sparked her interest in intrigue and suspense. For Chris to be able to combine romance with suspense in her books is a dream come true.

Chris is married to Linden and is the mother of five children. If not behind her computer, you can find her doing the school run, taxiing children to swimming lessons, football, ballet and cricket. In her spare time, Chris loves to read her favorite authors who include Richard North Patterson, Sandra Brown, Kathleen E Woodiwiss and Jude Devereaux.

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