The Christmas Countess

by Adrienne Basso

“Of course with you. And with Miss Tremaine.”

  Rebecca was glad she had not just put a fork filled with beef in her mouth, for she surely would have choked.

  “But it is December,” Lady Charlotte sputtered. “The marriage mart has ended.”

  “Don‘t be so silly. Husband hunting is a year-round pastime,” Lady Marion insisted. “Thankfully, there are not too many young misses in attendance, which makes it much better.”

  “Not for me.” Lady Charlotte met Rebecca‘s eyes with a panic-stricken gaze. “If there were a few pretty young girls here you would concentrate your efforts on them and shift your attention away from me.”

  “And me,” Rebecca chimed in, hoping Lady Marion was teasing. The very idea of being matched with any of these exalted gentlemen set her teeth on edge.

  “Oh, posh, young misses can be so boring and grating on the nerves,” Lady Marion said. “Most have a tendency to giggle and titter like hens around a rooster when in the company of an eligible man. ‘Tis maddening and most unbecoming.”

  “Ah, I believe we have found our escape from this matchmaking nightmare, Lady Charlotte. We need to learn to giggle and titter.” Rebecca smiled, more confident now that Lady Marion was being lighthearted and amusing.

  “Titter?” Lady Charlotte repeated, lowering her gaze. “Oh, dear.”

  “Yes, and we must learn to cackle also, for a loud cackle will surely drive everyone in the vicinity mad,” Rebecca added, warming to the spirit of fun.

  She turned to Lady Charlotte and noticed a slight grin appear. Rebecca flashed her an encouraging, reassuring smile. Lady Charlotte sat up a fraction in her chair.

  “There now, you have been given fair warning, Marion,” Lady Charlotte said. “If you persist on your matchmaking quest, Miss Tremaine and I will be forced to take drastic action.”

  Lady Marion‘s gaze narrowed. “I see that you are both planning to be difficult, but that will not deter me,” she replied. “You forget, but I was arguably the most impossible debutante for more Seasons than I can recall. My mother used to repeatedly tell me it was her greatest fear that I would never have a home of my own.”

  “That is because she knew how bossy you can be,” Lady Charlotte said with a shy grin. “She needed you to be in charge of your household in order to gain peace within her own home.”

  “Oh, how true.” Lady Marion laughed. “But Mother also wanted me to have my own happiness.”

  Rebecca looked at Lady Marion. “Not every woman‘s happiness is found with a man.”

  “Another excellent point, Miss Tremaine, which proves that in addition to your beauty and charm, your intelligence is but one more of your outstanding qualities.”

  “Must I again remind you that it is December?” Lady Charlotte interrupted.

  “Oh, fiddle. Courtship is a sport that is conducive to any time of year.”

  “And a husband is the prize?” Lady Charlotte squeaked.

  “In a manner of speaking.” Lady Marion took a bite of her fish and chewed thoughtfully. “Yet I prefer to think of a husband as the trophy.”

  “That would look best when displayed on a mantel?” Rebecca asked.

  “Since you are unmarried ladies, I shall not say precisely where, and in what condition, a husband looks best, though I will give you a strong hint and remark that a prime location is above stairs. Behind a closed bedchamber door.”

  Rebecca was so surprised she let her fork go limp. The sizable serving of creamed potatoes that was resting there slid off, missed her plate and dropped on to the linen tablecloth. Lady Charlotte, she noted, had blushed to the roots of her hair.

  “Marion, you are wicked!” Lady Charlotte exclaimed.

  “I am indeed and it is one of my finest qualities. Richard tells me so all the time.”

  After a heartbeat of stunned silence, all three women burst into laughter.

  “You truly must have set the ton on its ear,” Rebecca said. “I do believe I would have enjoyed seeing you in action.”

  “I was willfully incorrigible, truly a sight to behold,” Lady Marion admitted modestly. “But then I met Richard and everything changed.”

  “How?” Rebecca wanted to know.

  “I fell in love. I fought it at first, rather spiritedly. But in the end I discovered a fundamental truth. No matter how hard you try, you cannot control love. It controls you. The heart wants what it wants. And my heart wanted Richard.”

  “It was terribly romantic,” Lady Charlotte said with an envious sigh. “And a great relief to the family to have you safely wed at long last.”

  “Ha! They are mainly relieved that I am Richard‘s problem now and not theirs,” Lady Marion exclaimed.

  “Well, yes there is that too,” Lady Charlotte concurred and all three women burst into another round of laughter.

  They finished their meal in companionable conversation. Lady Marion was droll and witty, while Lady Charlotte proved to be a gentle foil to her cousin‘s rapier tongue. Rebecca was surprised to find herself enjoying the company very much. It had been years since she had indulged in fun, female dialog, and she realized she missed the unique perspective and companionship that could be found among women similar in age.

  Yet as much as she was enjoying their company, Rebecca declined Lady Marion‘s invitation to join her and the larger group of women who were anxious to engage in holiday activity planning. Lady Charlotte also declined to join the group in the green salon and took her leave. Rebecca commented that she was feeling slightly fatigued from the trip and would probably indulge in a nap.

  It was, of course, a lie. Knowing that Lily was so close would make it impossible to sleep, no matter how exhausted Rebecca felt. But she could hardly barge into the nursery at this time of day. During lunch Lady Charlotte had mentioned it was filled to near bursting with children, since all the guests were bringing their entire families. What possible, legitimate reason could Rebecca give for wanting to be among all that chaos?

  She was nearing the staircase when she heard her name called. Rebecca turned to see the earl hailing her. As he drew near, she was briefly distracted by his handsome, chiseled features, his wide shoulders and firmly muscled physique. She was confused too, because her reaction to him was almost physical. Her heart thumped in an uneven rhythm, the breath rushed from her lungs, the foyer suddenly seemed too stuffy and warm.

  Nerves? Fear? Or something else that was too dangerous, too distressing to acknowledge.

  The sophisticated elegance she so naturally associated with him was once again in evidence this afternoon, which was odd given his casual, country attire. With no small measure of regret, she concluded he was one of those rare individuals blessed with the confidence, good looks and poise that put women at a disadvantage.

  “I apologize for not greeting you earlier, Miss Tremaine. Estate business called me away.”

  “Your mother kindly explained.”

  “Have you eaten?”

  “Yes, with Lady Marion, and your sister Charlotte. Everything was lovely.”

  “Good.” He glanced at the staircase, then back at her. “And now?”

  Rebecca felt a pang of guilt. He was trying to give her the benefit of the doubt and thus refused to accuse her outright of trying to find Lily, but he must be wondering where she was heading at this time of the day. “I thought I might rest in my chamber. The journey from London was tiring.”

  “Pity. I was hoping to persuade you to join me in the nursery.”

  Her hopes soared. Rebecca gazed up at the earl, testing his sincerity. His expression was unreadable, yet in truth his motives did not matter. As she had previously told him, it was his actions that interested her.

  “Of course I would like to visit the nursery. I assume Lily will be there?”

  “She should be. If she hasn‘t run off from Mrs. James.”

  Rebecca‘s eyes widened in concern. “Does she do that often? Run away from her governess? It can be dangerous, you know.”

  The earl smile
d. “She enjoys more freedom here in the country than when we are in town, but whenever she “hides” she does so within the house. She is always safe.”

  Rebecca nodded in relief. The thought of Lily in any sort of peril frightened her more than she could say.

  Silently, they climbed to the top floor of the manor, the earl leading the way. As they neared their destination, Rebecca could hear the shrieks of laughter on the other side of the closed nursery door. The instant the earl opened it, silence fell. A multitude of small heads jerked up, anxious to see if it was another young friend coming to join in their playtime.

  Discovering it was only two adults, most of the youngsters returned to their activities. Several were congregated in the center of the room around an impressive castle they were constructing out of painted wooden bricks. Others were sitting together at tables, a few of the younger children were contentedly nestled on the laps of their nurses.

  Rebecca counted nine children before the earsplitting cry of “Papa!” cut through the air.

  Lily hurled herself at the earl, literally jumping into his arms. He caught her easily and swung her high.

  “She enjoys being dramatic,” he explained as he carefully set the little girl back on her feet.

  Well, she certainly does not get that from me, Rebecca thought.

  “You are the lady with the brooch,” Lily said. “Did you find it at the park?”

  “Alas, no, but I do believe I left it somewhere else,” Rebecca answered, feeling so pleased that Lily had remembered her. “Thank you for taking the time to help me search.”

  Lily squared her shoulders. “I wanted so badly to find it before my friend, Jane. She looked again the next day, you know, but Mrs. James wouldn‘t take me to the park because we had to come to Windmere.”

  Hmm, dramatic and competitive, Rebecca thought, unsure about the origins of those qualities. She wondered what other things she would discover about the child, but then her attention was momentarily diverted from Lily by a loud commotion in the center of the nursery.

  The earl was playing with a boy she judged to be seven or eight years old. The child was yelling and laughing with delight as Lord Hampton dangled him upside down. Beside them, two others were jumping with excitement, anxiously waiting their turn. Seeing all the fuss, several of the other boys abandoned the castle building and crept closer.

  The sizeable group crowded in and the earl set himself on his knees. Making a menacing growl deep in the back of his throat, he spread his arms wide and swept up four of them. There were squeals of delight and excitement as they wrestled on the thick rug with great merriment, while the various nurses and governesses regarded the earl with an amused expression.

  Rebecca was fairly amazed at the sight, highly doubting she would have been so calm if someone had riled her charges to this extent. Still, she was grateful for the distraction of noise and chaos, for it gave her time to gather herself.

  She glanced over at Lily and a rush of longing filled her. Her heart was racing as she stared into a face that seemed so new and yet so familiar. This was her daughter. Her baby. There was joy, but there was sorrow.

  Rebecca‘s anticipation of this moment mingled strongly with a deep feeling of apprehension. Though more than anything she longed to see Lily, to spend time with her, the simple act of starting a conversation felt daunting. Fortunately the little girl did not have the same problem.

  “Papa likes to play rough,” Lily explained. “‘Tis something that boys do.” She shook her head as if puzzled by the entire concept.

  “I remember my brother Daniel being much the same way,” Rebecca offered.

  “You have a brother?” Lily asked. “Is he a little boy?”

  “No. He is older.”

  “Oh.” Lily shrugged with disappointment. “No matter. There are far too many boys here already.”

  Rebecca glanced over at the earl, who by now had every male in the nursery under his spell. They were climbing on, over and under him, clinging to his back with arms clasped around his neck, tugging on his hair, laughing. It struck her how comfortable he appeared, how much he was obviously enjoying himself. Clearly, he was a man who should father many children, for he seemed to like them a great deal.

  “Will you play with me?” Lily asked. “I have lots of paper dolls with pretty clothes. Nothing new, because Christmas hasn‘t come. Papa will buy me all the latest fashions to dress my paper dolls, and my real dolls too, but we can play with the old clothes today.”

  Rebecca swallowed hard, touched by Lily‘s invitation. “That sounds like fun.”

  Lily led her to a child-size table with two matching chairs. Gingerly, Rebecca sat in one, hoping it would hold her weight, while Lily retrieved her toys. She watched closely as the little girl opened the different boxes and carefully removed the contents.

  Rebecca felt a tightness suddenly rise inside her. A powerful sense of regret for all that she had missed in Lily‘s life, a bitter resentment at what had been so cruelly stolen from her. Pushing the feelings aside, she attempted a smile. Now was not the time to dwell on the unfairness of the past. She must seize this opportunity and make the most of it.

  “This is Little Fanny,” Lily explained as she held out one of the paper figures. “She has five different hats.”

  “She is pretty,” Rebecca remarked.

  Lily shrugged. “Queen Victoria has much prettier clothes and lots of extra things, because she is very special. I like her best. Here is my ballerina, Marie. I will be Queen Victoria. Who do you want to be?”

  “You decide.”

  The child‘s answering smile let Rebecca know she had said the right thing. They began an imaginary game with the queen and the ballerina and Rebecca had to agree that Queen Victoria did have an extraordinary wardrobe, one that could easily rival the silken fashions worn by real ladies. She had many outfits with a stunning array of accessories, a few of which Rebecca could not identify. And her clothes were not just made of paper, there were bits of cloth, real lace and tissue paper attached to several of the ball gowns.

  Alas, poor Marie‘s clothes were far simpler, though her dancing outfits were very frilly. Time flew by as Lily directed their play, deciding what was happening, where the dolls were going, what they were going to wear. Rebecca was delighted to play along, taking it all in, reveling in the chance to be with her daughter.

  Secretly, Rebecca had been terrified that Lily would not like her. The uncertainty was not completely gone, but she was less worried, more confident. In gratitude, she turned to properly thank the earl for his generosity in allowing her this opportunity. But he had already left the nursery.

  Chapter 5

  Daniel lingered over luncheon, pleased at the surprising turn of events that afforded him a chance to accomplish some business. It had been a stroke of good luck indeed to find Lord Bailey and a few other potential investors among the guests, and even better that they had an opportunity to discuss business.

  When the meal concluded, Daniel left the long gallery alone, with no particular destination in mind. Though she had said nothing specifically, he assumed Rebecca was hoping for a chance to see her daughter again. As for himself, Daniel knew he was not yet ready to meet the child, nor was he in the mood to converse with any of the earl‘s other guests. If the conversation went much beyond business he felt out of his element.

  This niggling doubt of insecurity was in part due to his birth. Though he knew they respected his business talents and accomplishments, Daniel never forgot the majority of men he dealt with were of noble birth. And he was not.

  He was the great-grandson of a baron, the grandson of a solicitor, the son of a vicar, in turn a man of little social significance. He currently moved in these aristocratic circles because of his recently acquired wealth and was astute enough to realize if his circumstances ever changed, these doors would be forever closed to him.

  Hell, if not for the most bizarre connection between Rebecca‘s child and the earl, he would not be
at Windmere at all. A fact he had every intention of keeping to himself.

  Deciding a walk in the brisk air was always a good way to chase away these strange moods, Daniel retrieved his coat, hat and walking stick from the butler and set out to explore the gardens.

  The many flowering plants were dormant on this winter day, but the evergreens were thick and lush, the hedges full and green. He followed a brick path through a winding curve, momentarily wondering if he had entered a maze. Realizing it was just an intricate pattern of hedges, he rounded the corner and saw a woman seated on a marble bench.

  He had no idea who she was, which was hardly surprising since he knew almost none of the guests. Daniel‘s first inclination was to turn and hurry away or else smile, nod and walk swiftly passed her.

  But then she suddenly looked up, noticing his approach. Damn! He had hesitated too long. Courtesy demanded he speak to her.

  “Good afternoon,” he said cordially, tipping his hat. “I‘m afraid we have not yet been formally introduced. I am Daniel Tremaine, a guest of the earl‘s.”

  “Charlotte Sinclair, the aforementioned earl‘s sister.”

  “A pleasure to meet you, Lady Charlotte.” Out of habit, he extended his hand. Lady Charlotte blinked in puzzlement, then mimicked his gesture. Her fingers quivered in his, the bones slender and fragile. She shook his hand hesitantly, briefly, as Daniel realized his mistake.

  He had been too long in the company of businessmen; too long living in the informality of the American Colonies. A proper English gentleman did not offer to shake hands with a noble lady. ‘Twas damn decent of Lady Charlotte not to say anything about it.

  Grateful for her tolerance, Daniel decided to join her for a few minutes. Without asking he took a seat on the opposite end of the bench. She seemed shocked at the move, sitting straight-back on the edge of the bench, folding her hands in her lap. He wondered if she preferred her solitude and felt sorry that he again had not considered his actions carefully. He was probably intruding.

  The silence between them was long and uncomfortable. Daniel‘s mind turned blank as he search for a safe topic of polite conversation. He was about to excuse himself when he saw a gray tabby emerge from the cover of the thick hedgerow and stroll past them. It moved at an odd gait and Daniel realized the cat was missing one of its hind legs. Lady Charlotte reached down and scooped the animal up in her arms. She placed it in her lap where it settled comfortably.