The Mistletoe Kiss. Janet Lee Barton

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The Mistletoe Kiss - Janet Lee Barton Mills & Boon Love Inspired Historical

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are going to the Ladies’ Mile and out and about,” Emily informed him.

      Millicent hoped Emily didn’t mention the suffrage meeting she and Julia were going to before they went shopping. But Emily put her fears to rest when she turned the conversation around. “What are you men doing today? Got another ball game lined up?”

      “As a matter of fact, we do.” Matt’s gaze caught Millicent’s and his smile made her chest tighten. He seemed to be in a very good mood. “How did your shots turn out? I’d like to see them before you hand them over to John and Elizabeth.”

      “I’d be glad to show them to you once they are completely dry. I want to get them to the Talbots before Monday.” And then she could forget about going back to Park Row for a few days at least.

      “I’ll be glad to walk you over, if you’d like,” Matt offered.

      Why was he being so nice? He didn’t like any of this and it’d been obvious yesterday. “I’ll telephone Elizabeth now to ask if this evening or tomorrow will be better—unless you have plans?”

      “No, after dinner or tomorrow will be fine with me.”

      Millicent nodded and hurried out of the room and asked the operator to ring through to the Talbots. Elizabeth picked up after only two rings and was quite excited to hear the photos would be ready that evening.

      “Oh, please do bring them over tonight, if it’s not too much trouble.”

      “Not at all. Matt said he’d walk me over, so we’ll be there after dinner.”

      “Wonderful. We look forward to your visit.”

      Millicent hung up the receiver and turned around to find Matt standing behind her. She placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart. “Oh! I—”

      “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you. Emily just left for work and Julia has gone upstairs to get ready for your outing, so thought I’d save you a trip back to the dining room. When did she say would be best?”

      “This evening.”

      “Good. I’m sure they’re eager to see them.”

      “I think so. I’m excited about showing them. You can look at them at the same time since you’re escorting me over.”

      “That will be fine, as long as I get to see them.” He grinned. “I’m sure you got some great shots. It was interesting to watch you at work.”

      “Really?”

      “Really.”

      He seemed almost as surprised at his answer as Millicent was at his comments. She shrugged. “Well, I do love what I do and I hope it shows in each photograph I take.”

      “I understand. That’s how I feel about what I do, too.”

      “Millicent!” Julia called. “Are you down here? I’m ready to go when you are.”

      “Yes, I’m right here.” Millicent hurried into the foyer, with Matt right behind her. “I’ll go get my hat and reticule.”

      Julia looked surprised to find Matt with her. “Oh good. We don’t want to be late.”

      She turned back to Matt. “Have a good day.”

      “You, too.”

      Millicent started up the stairs as she heard Matt ask Julia, “How can you be late for shopping? The stores are barely open.”

      Her steps slowed as she waited for Julia’s answer. “We don’t want to be late for any sales. Things fly off the shelves if it’s a good one, and they usually are on Saturdays.”

      “Oh. That makes sense.”

      Millicent took a deep breath and hurried up the rest of the stairs. At least he didn’t ask if they were going to another one of those meetings.

      He’d been so agreeable this morning, she didn’t want to start anything up about the suffrage movement. If she thought he’d listen, she’d gladly have a conversation with him, but Matt and the other men’s minds seemed to be made up about it. And their stubbornness about it all was a reminder of why she needed to guard her heart from any man—and she must keep it in mind at all times. Particularly on those days Matt was so nice to her!

      Millicent pinned on her favorite autumn hat, a brown straw trimmed with green-and-blue ribbon and peacock feathers, grabbed her reticule and hurried back downstairs. She breathed a sigh of relief to find only Julia in the parlor waiting for her. “Did the men leave already?” she asked.

      “Yes. Although I don’t know where they were all going, only that Stephen went to work and Joe and Matt were going to meet at the Polo Grounds for the ball game later,” Julia said.

      “Why is it they don’t seem to think they need to tell us where they are going, but they want to know every little thing we’re doing?” Millicent asked.

      “Good question. I’d like to know the same thing.”

      “My dears, it could be my fault,” Mrs. Heaton said, entering the foyer.

      “Your fault? How could that be, Mrs. Heaton?” Millicent asked.

      “Well, you know I opened this boardinghouse in order to give young women a safe place that felt like home away from home, but I wanted you safe when out and about after dark, too. That’s the reason I opened it up to men, too. Julia can probably remember when there were almost no men living here except for my son Michael.”

      “Yes, I do. But it didn’t last long, once I told you I was walking to the soda shop that first summer.” Julia chuckled and shook her head.

      “That’s when I made the rule that women must be in a group or ask a man to escort them to and from wherever it was they wanted to go at night. Michael was called into service that night.”

      “And he was quite gallant about it.” Julia chuckled. “But he was only one man and there were around six ladies living here at the time. Soon thereafter—the next day, I think—you put an ad in the newspapers and that’s when Ben and John and Luke arrived.”

      “Quite true, Julia. And I inform the men who live here of my rules when they move in and perhaps they think of themselves as your protectors.”

      “Maybe so,” Millicent said, her heart sinking just a bit. If she were going to have a protector, she’d much rather it be because the man cared about her and not because he’d been asked to. But Mrs. Heaton’s explanation made sense. “But we don’t want them to know about the meetings, Mrs. Heaton. They get all riled up when they’re mentioned.”

      “I understand, and I support you not telling them about the meetings you’ve been going to, as they are all in the daytime. But should you ever decide to go to one at night...” Mrs. Heaton’s brow wrinkled as she paused. “I think it might be time I spoke to the men about all of this.”

      “Oh, Mrs. Heaton,” Millicent said. “The last thing we want is for you to feel you must defend us or—”

      Their

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