The Christmas Countess

by Adrienne Basso

“We‘d like your advice about the Christmas baskets we are putting together for the village families, vicar,” the earl said. “My steward has given me a list regarding my tenant farmers, but I should like to know if there are others you feel are in special need this holiday season.”

  “‘Tis so good of you to inquire, my lord.” With a smile of relief directed at his wife, the young man stood. “Forgive my presumption, but I have been working on a list. If you will wait, it will take but a moment to retrieve it from my study.”

  Mr. Hargrave was good as his word. He returned in short order with a piece of parchment he handed to Lord Hampton. The earl smiled in thanks and pocketed the paper. “I shall make certain this is taken care of promptly. After all, we want to make sure that everyone has a happy Christmas.”

  With business concluded, they were able to chat more easily. Lily had moved to sit beside her father on the opposite settee and Rebecca contented herself by stealing glances across the way, gratified to catch occasional glimpses of Lily watching her back.

  She winked at Lily and the girl giggled. Rebecca watched anxiously as Lily lifted the delicate china cup and took a small sip. She feared she might slosh some over the edge and burn herself, but the child had no difficulties. Placing it back on the saucer, Lily grabbed the earl‘s arm and snuggled against him.

  Lord Hampton glanced down and smiled at the little girl. She grinned back, her expression pure mischief. Lily ate a cream cake, then Rebecca noticed Mrs. James put a gentle restraining hand on Lily‘s arm as she reached for the silver sugar tongs and attempted to plunk a third cube of sugar into her teacup.

  “You‘ll get worms if you eat too much sugar,” Mrs. James muttered under her breath.

  Rebecca‘s eyes widened at the lie, but it seemed to do the trick. Lily obediently let go of the tongs. She sank back in her chair and sullenly took a bite of a crumpet topped with raspberry jam.

  The child‘s fidgeting grew with her boredom and Rebecca wondered again at why Lily had been brought along. It was unheard of to bring a child of her age on a social visit, even if that visit was to a country reverend. It seemed to Rebecca to be yet another troubling example of the vast indulgence afforded Lily by Lord Hampton and frankly she did not like it.

  Fortunately, they finished their refreshments without incident. As they prepared to leave, Mr. Hargrave suggested a tour of the newly completed village school, which was located across the road from the vicarage. Rebecca was impressed when she learned the building had been constructed using funds donated by the earl. In her experience, most aristocrats were not in favor of educating the children of the families who worked their land.

  “Now that we have such a wonderful new meeting space, we are organizing a nativity play with the older school children. It shall be performed before church services on Christmas Eve,” Mrs. Hargrave announced.

  “What a perfectly splendid idea,” the dowager countess replied. “I hope there will be room for us to attend?”

  “We would be honored to have you, my lady,” Mr. Hargrave said with an anxious, delighted smile.

  “You will need to reserve two, no make that three, rows of seats for us,” the earl said. “I promise to fill them with a most enthusiastic audience.”

  Rebecca did not have to pretend interest. “Please do not think me too forward, but I would like to offer my services, Mrs. Hargrave. I often helped my father stage similar events. I understand that many hands are needed when working with such a large group of children.”

  “Oh, thank you, Miss Tremaine.” The young woman looked enormously relieved. She leaned closer and whispered confidentially. “Mr. Hargrave wants so much to make a favorable impression upon the earl and his family and in turn I fear is taking on too many responsibilities. I am trying to lighten his burden as best I can, but my experience in these matters is limited.”

  Rebecca nodded in understanding, knowing all too well the kind of pressure the vicar was under. “I am certain it will be a splendid success, but if there are any glitches, you must blame me.”

  “Why are you whispering?” Lily asked, tugging on Rebecca‘s sleeve to gain her attention.

  Rebecca glanced down in surprise. She thought the little girl had moved to the next room with the other adults.

  Mrs. Hargrave smiled. “Miss Tremaine and I were discussing the nativity play.”

  “My papa goes to the theatre in London to see the plays. And sometimes Grandma goes with him. She always wears a pretty dress.” Lily turned to Rebecca. “What‘s a play?”

  “A play is a story that people act out by pretending to be the characters of the tale as they tell the story. They wear costumes and stand on a stage in front of everyone so they can be seen and heard,” Rebecca explained.

  “Who will be telling the story in the play? The people from London?” Lily asked.

  “No, the children from the village who attend our schools will play all the parts,” Mrs. Hargrave said. She pointed to the front of the room. “We are going to build a small stage over there and sew costumes for them to wear and when the performance is over, we shall have a party to celebrate. It will take place in the evening, but not too late. I hope you will come with your father and grandmother to watch it.”

  “No.” Lily shook her head. “I don‘t want to watch the play. I want to tell the story and be on the stage and wear a pretty costume.”

  Mrs. Hargrave hid her shock well, though her eyes betrayed her inner concern as they widened. “I‘m not sure if your father would approve.”

  “My papa tells me all the time he loves me and wants me to be happy. I will be happy if I am in the play.” Lily folded her arms across her chest.

  “But all the other children are all much older than you,” Mrs. Hargrave added.

  “So?” Lily huffed in annoyance.

  “I suppose we can ask Lord Hampton,” Mrs. Hargrave said, wringing her hands nervously. “Though all the parts have already been assigned.”

  “If you ask him, my papa will say yes,” Lily responded confidently. “And then I will play the part of the baby.”

  “Oh, goodness. We were going to use a doll.” Mrs. Hargrave took in a rather shaky breath. “How about an angel? Would you like to be an angel, Lady Lily?”

  Lily‘s brows knit together in a suspicious frown. “Everyone knows that you can‘t see an angel.”

  “Angels can be seen in our play,” Mrs. Hargrave answered. “They wear very pretty white dresses and have golden haloes on their heads.”

  Lily‘s lower lips thrust out. “I do not want to be an angel. I want to be the baby Jesus.”

  Mrs. Hargrave blanched. Rebecca crouched down and took the little girl‘s hands in her own. “You are a growing girl, not a baby. I think you will make a lovely angel.”

  “Will there be other angels?”

  They turned to Mrs. Hargrave. She attempted a smile. “Oh, yes. At least four or five.”

  Lily pulled her hands away. “I won‘t be special if there are other angels,” she said, sounding most aggrieved.

  “I am sure you will be the prettiest angel of all,” Mrs. Hargrave said with false heartiness.

  “I don‘t want to be an angel.” Lily hitched her shoulders in a gesture of defiance. “My father is the earl and I am a lady and I will have the best part! I will be the baby, the one that everyone comes to see and brings special gifts.”

  The last sentence came out in a shrieking scream. Mrs. James, who had come back into the room, rushed forward to take charge of Lily.

  Mrs. Hargrave looked horrified. Rebecca‘s embarrassment over Lily‘s disgraceful behavior quickly turned to sympathy. Poor Mrs. Hargrave had been nothing but kind and considerate to the child. She certainly did not deserve to be treated so rudely by an ill-mannered little girl.

  Mrs. James managed to stop Lily‘s screaming, but the child looked furious. Her arms were crossed in defiance, her face scowling and red, her sobbing loud and dramatic.

  It was embarrassing to see Lily so peevish an
d perverse. Rebecca had been around children enough to know they often misbehaved and on occasion acted badly. But she had never witnessed such a spoiled, violent reaction. It was disgraceful and she would have said so, if her remarks could have been heard above the din.

  The earl poked his head into the room. “Is there a problem?” he asked.

  “I have things well in hand, my lord,” Mrs. James replied as she hastily pulled the sniffling Lily out of the room.

  “Excuse me.” Eyes downcast, Mrs. Hargrave also hurried away.

  Poor thing. Rebecca sighed. Mrs. Hargrave had wanted so badly to impress the earl.

  Lord Hampton‘s face darkened. “Was Lily crying?”

  “Yes.” Rebecca hesitated. Instinctively she wanted to protect her daughter, yet she was too upset by the incident to conceal it. “Lily was excited to learn about the Christmas play. Mrs. Hargrave kindly agreed to allow her a part, but Lily became difficult and kept insisting that she be given the role of the newborn savior in the production.”

  Unruffled, the earl turned to Rebecca. “She does like to get her own way.”

  Rebecca darted a cautious glance at the earl. After hearing and now seeing this behavior he did not question or denounce it?

  “She was rather rude,” Rebecca said pointedly.

  “She must be tired. My mother was most skeptical when I suggested Lily be brought along on today‘s visit. But I overcame her apprehension and insisted that one was never too young to begin learning about social duties.” He blew out a sigh. “Of course the real reason I pushed to have her along was because I knew you would be accompanying us and assumed you would enjoy being in Lily‘s company.”

  Rebecca stiffened. That was a low blow. So now it was her fault that Lily was brought along? Was he trying to say she was also responsible for the child‘s inappropriate behavior?

  “She needs to apologize to Mrs. Hargrave,” Rebecca said.

  “Mrs. James will see to it.”

  His casual dismissal of the incident angered her. “You are her father. You should see to it.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “Her disgraceful behavior is a direct result of your overindulgence,” Rebecca said. “Lily is a smart, observant little girl. She knows that ultimately she does not have to behave because you will excuse her from anything that she does, no matter how naughty.”

  “That is preposterous!” Faint color tinged his cheeks.

  “Is it? Earlier today she jumped from the carriage and ran in front of your horse. If not for your expert skill with the reins she might have been seriously injured. Yet you barely scolded her.”

  “Are you inferring that I cannot take proper care of the child?”

  “I am not inferring it at all. I am stating it as fact.”

  His nostrils flared. “You overstep your bounds, Miss Tremaine.”

  Rebecca bristled at the comment, shrugging off the warning. “I have a vested interest in this also, my lord.”

  “You most certainly do not!” Lord Hampton‘s voice rose with his anger, but he brought it under control and lowered his tone before speaking again. “Though you gave birth to her, you are not, nor will you ever be, Lily‘s mother.”

  His words seemed to hang in the air. Potent, angry, truthful. “I still have the right to care about her,” Rebecca replied, her voice quivering with emotion.

  “That may very well be,” he said in an irritated voice. “Yet I give you fair warning. Do not ever again presume to tell me how to handle my daughter, Miss Tremaine. I promise you will be most distressed at the consequences.”

  Their gazes locked in a silent battle of wills until Rebecca realized she was in no position to win this argument. He was right. The earl held all the power. He was Lily‘s father. And she…she was nothing.

  Rebecca bowed her head. Inside she was quaking. The unfairness of it all made her temper blaze as hotly as his. But she held back the angry words that sprang to her lips, knowing it would only make matters worse to speak them.

  The knot of tension inside Rebecca‘s chest tightened, yet somehow she managed to keep her expression calm, serene. Using every ounce of willpower she possessed, Rebecca looked him straight in the eye.

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  ———

  The ride home seemed twice as long to Cameron as it had on the way to the vicarage. Lily rode in the carriage with the rest of the women, and he missed her distracting chatter. Without it, Rebecca Tremaine‘s biting words about the child‘s behavior echoed too loud and too long in his head.

  Despite all his many other duties and responsibilities the earl had always considered Lily his most important responsibility, one he took on with the greatest enthusiasm and love. He knew the level of his involvement with his child was unusual for a man of his class. Whenever he visited other friends and acquaintances children were hardly ever in evidence. Occasionally there would be a brief appearance where a youngster would bow or curtsy and perhaps say hello. For their efforts they received a pat on the head and an indulgent smile and were promptly ignored.

  Cameron knew several lords who went weeks without setting eyes on their children; ladies who spent no more than twenty minutes a day in the company of their offspring before the youngsters were whisked away by a nurse or a governess.

  Yet from the moment she arrived, both he and Christina had taken an overt interest in everything about Lily, had spent an extraordinary amount of time fussing and cooing over the baby girl. As young parents they would often sneak into the nursery to have a look at her while she slept, marveling at the good fortune that had brought this tiny blessing into their lives.

  When Christina died, it was the distraction of Lily that kept Cameron‘s grief from overtaking him. She quickly became the center of his life. Concentrating on her needs had saved him from thinking too hard about his own life; about the emptiness that was there, the loneliness that invaded his heart.

  The child had been his salvation and he adored her completely. It was unthinkable to accept any sort of criticism about her from Rebecca Tremaine.

  Cameron reached the front courtyard of Windmere manor ahead of the carriage. He dismounted and tossed the horse‘s reins to a young groom who had rushed forward. Tapping his hand impatiently against his thigh, Lord Hampton waited for the women to arrive.

  The coach had barely come to a complete stop before Lily jumped out of the door and ran toward him, ignoring Mrs. James‘s admonishments to slow down. She lunged at him, arms open wide, body quivering. Cameron stooped down, pulling her close, hugging her tightly.

  “I am sorry that I was a naughty girl, Papa,” she said, her voice muffled against his greatcoat. “Please don‘t be mad at me.”

  “You upset Mrs. Hargrave a great deal with your display of temper,” Cameron said as he set her down on her feet.

  “I said I was sorry,” Lily wailed, a stream of tears coursing down her cheeks.

  “I know.” He removed his linen handkerchief from his coat pocket and wiped her face. Her sobs instantly quieted to periodic sniffles.

  “Am I a disgrace?” Lily whispered, a frown of worry on her brow.

  “What? No! Who said that you were?”

  “Mrs. James.”

  Cameron‘s head shot up, his ire roused. He spotted the governess standing at a respectful distance and turned a piercing gaze upon her. “Is that what you told her?” he accused.

  Mrs. James gave him a dazed look. “Oh no, my lord. I told Lady Lily her behavior was a disgrace and now that she has had time to think about her actions, she agreed.”

  Hmm. The earl quelled his anger. There was no way he could reprimand the woman for saying that, though he vowed to keep a closer watch on the governess. Cameron nodded, then looked at Lily.

  “I know you did not mean to upset Mrs. Hargrave, Puss. You must remember, however, that a great lady strives to be gracious to everyone at all times.”

  “Truly?”

  Her innocent expression of trust was nearly his
undoing. “Truly.”

  “Was my mama a great lady?”

  Mama? Miss Tremaine? Cameron nearly fell to his knees, he was so shocked by his thoughts. Upon hearing Lily say “Mama” his first thought was not of his beloved wife Christina, but rather Rebecca Tremaine.

  Even though not more than twenty minutes ago he had been bellowing at the woman proclaiming that she would never be Lily‘s mother, somehow she had been melded into the role of “Mama” in his mind.

  A most troubling development.

  “Yes, your mama was a grand lady,” the dowager countess interjected. “We all loved and admired her tremendously. Just as we love you. Come along, Lily, let‘s go inside. All this excitement has rattled my nerves.”

  The little girl turned on her heel and skipped over to her grandmother. “I can‘t wait to tell Aunt Charlotte about the play and my angel costume. Won‘t she be surprised? Oh, how I wish Jane Grolier were here so she could see me wearing my gold halo. I think I shall take it back to London with me so I can show her. Can I, Grandma?”

  He could not hear his mother‘s reply, for they had entered the house, with Mrs. James trailing behind. He turned to follow them and found himself face-to-face with Rebecca Tremaine, who was staring up at him with unblinking eyes.

  “I wish to apologize for my earlier comments,” she said stoically. “I did not mean to interfere.”

  “Well, you did,” he replied peevishly. “Lily is my responsibility. You must never forget it.”

  She looked at him in chagrin. “Believe me, I know that very well.”

  Her expression remained calm, but the bitterness in her voice was evident. He cleared his throat a little guiltily, knowing he was the cause. “If you will excuse me, I need to confer with my secretary about the list Vicar Hargrave gave me.”

  “Of course. Good afternoon.”

  She took an awkward step, stumbling on the uneven gravel. Instinctively, Cameron reached for her, grabbing her arm at the elbow and holding her upright. At the same moment Miss Tremaine reached for him with her other flailing hand, seeking something solid to grasp and steady herself.

  She was closer than he realized. He glanced down and found himself staring into her enchanting blue eyes, becoming lost in their bottomless depths. Beneath her woolen cloak he could feel the enticing curves of her body, could smell the delicate scent of her floral perfume.