The Christmas Countess

by Adrienne Basso

  “The weather is too harsh for me to go outside,” she answered flatly.

  “Nonsense.” He came closer, avoiding tripping over Apollo with nimble skill. “The snowfall is beginning to ease and it isn‘t that cold. Many of the children are going; you‘ll be fine.”

  “I would be a burden, miserable in the snow and cold, and most assuredly spoil the outing for everyone else,” she said in a dismissive tone.

  “Not for me,” he responded earnestly. “It will not be half as enjoyable if you are not along.”

  Charlotte slowly turned her head back to the window. She pretended an interest in the lessening snowfall, but in actuality she was studying Daniel‘s reflection in the window glass.

  “Do you like the snow, Charlotte?”

  She shrugged, feeling peevish and childish and despising herself for it.

  “I like the snow,” he continued. “It can be beautiful when it first falls and clings to the tree branches and bushes. And at night, it often seems to glow, as it lights up everything around it.”

  She frowned, disliking his cheerful, enthusiastic mood, resenting the feeling of vulnerability that overcame her at his inquiries. How could she possibly like the snow? It was as alien to her as walking on water.

  “Snow is cold,” she said flatly. “And wet. And slippery. ‘Tis dangerous.”

  He looked momentarily disconcerted by her response and she vowed from that moment on she would try her best to be a bit more direct with him. It was past time he learned the realities of living in her world.

  “You sound like you are afraid of it,” he joked. “Which is utterly ridiculous.”

  Charlotte sucked in a breath, then leapt to her feet, too restless to sit. Apollo instantly stood, alerted, agitated by her mood. She patted the dog reassuringly on the head. “You know nothing about what I fear, Mr. Tremaine. What is ridiculous is that you presume a knowledge you obviously lack.”

  “Then tell me.”

  The spark of fighting spirit so quickly ignited, was swiftly extinguished. Charlotte‘s shoulders slumped forward. She suddenly felt old and tired.

  “I am clumsy enough in calm weather, ‘twould be foolish to tempt fate in such poor conditions,” she admitted, trying to keep the emotion from her voice, but there were tears threatening in her eyes.

  “You are not clumsy, Charlotte.” He touched her cheek, his eyes warm with affection. “True, you might have to exercise a bit more caution than others, but that hardly precludes you from participating.”

  “I cannot possibly ice-skate,” she blurted out.

  “Nor can I,” he said. “Anytime I have tried, I have fallen on my arse.”

  “Daniel!”

  He gave her a mischievous smile. “‘Tis the truth. I am a complete failure at ice-skating. However, I have considerable skill with a sled and I insist that you go sledding with me.”

  “I‘ve never been.”

  “Then it is past time you tried. I will summon your maid. You need to put on a warmer gown and forgive my indelicacy, warmer stockings.”

  Charlotte could not help the smile that broke from her lips. Now he was concerned about being indelicate? After he had just spoken the word arse within her hearing?

  He turned to walk away, no doubt to summon her maid. Charlotte‘s mood sobered. Unable to stop herself, she whispered, “Why are you doing this, Daniel?”

  His shoulders stiffened. He stopped, then pivoted to face her. “It makes me happy to be with you. And I believe you will enjoy being outside in the snow, if only you give it a chance. I suspect, Charlotte, that you shut yourself away on purpose, you deliberately keep your distance from others. But I think deep down you would prefer to end your isolation.”

  Gracious. He seemed able to read her mind, which certainly gave him an unfair advantage. She hesitated, caught between common sense and longing. Then he gave her a smile that melted her fears. Surrendering, she followed him out the door.

  With her maid‘s help she changed into a simple gown of soft wool and at her suggestion donned two pairs of woolen stockings and a pair of sturdy boots. It took longer than expected and by the time Charlotte reached the front hall foyer, it was deserted.

  “Everyone is on the lawn, Lady Charlotte,” a passing footman helpfully informed her.

  “Thank you, Jenkins.”

  Pulling on her warmest gloves, Charlotte gingerly walked out on the back terrace. Bracing her hands on the railing, she inhaled the cool, wintry air. And smiled.

  The lawn was teeming with people. The snow was about four inches deep and still falling, though very lightly. Everyone was dressed warmly in layers of coats and hats and scarves, laughing and talking merrily. Right in the thick of it all she could see Lily, her red woolen coat blazing as she dashed about, screeching with excitement.

  Pink-cheeked, eyes bright, her hair slowly freeing itself from her braid, Lily was the picture of carefree joy. She was clearly the leader of the group of seven children who were busy chasing each other and trying to slide on the snow. Nearly all landed on their rears. Or arses, as Daniel would say.

  He was, unfortunately, the one person Charlotte did not find among the crowd. Growing nervous, she continued to scan the many faces and then suddenly he appeared, emerging from the center of the group. Charlotte remained on the terrace for several minutes, then cautiously made her way down to the bottom, clinging to the rail, hand over hand.

  Everyone was so full of wild, uninhibited joy she was nearly overwhelmed by it. Being so close to all the merriment made Charlotte feel a real part of it. It was a good beginning. If she did nothing else today but contentedly stand near and watch everyone else make fools of themselves, it would be progress. She would be happy.

  But Daniel Tremaine had another idea.

  He came toward her, his eyes bright, his face flushed from the cold. Lacy flakes coated his forehead and dusted his dark lashes. He looked fit and virile and oh, so very handsome.

  “Give me your hand,” he said when he reached her.

  She slowly set her hand in his, feeling a warm tingle through the layers of their gloves. “The snow is very slippery. I fear I might fall,” she confessed.

  “I‘ll catch you,” he promised.

  She went trustingly toward him, her limp more exaggerated due to her slow, careful movements. To her relief, she did not fall, but her foot suddenly slipped and she swayed badly, teetering to one side. Daniel caught her around the waist.

  Her body sagged against him. “Be careful!” she screeched. “If I fall, I will most likely bring you down with me.”

  “Why, Lady Charlotte, nothing would please me more than to take a tumble with you.”

  She blushed to the roots of her hair, which were hidden beneath her bonnet. She straightened, then planted her feet firmly in place. Daniel‘s arm remained around her waist.

  “Where is everyone going?” she asked.

  “To the edge of the south garden. We have it on good authority there is a hill worthy of a sled ride.”

  Charlotte knew the spot. “It is an impressive hill, but when you reach the bottom, it trails into some fairly dense woods.”

  “Then we must take precautions to make certain nobody crashes into any of the larger trees.”

  “Daniel!”

  “I‘m teasing, Charlotte. We shall all be very responsible adults. No one will come to any harm.”

  He gazed at her solemnly to emphasize his sincerity, but his assurance that there would be adult behavior was soon challenged as a snowball swished by, coming perilously close to his head.

  “Sorry, Mr. Tremaine,” Lady Marion yelled. “I was aiming for my cousin.”

  “Oh, my.” Charlotte huffed out a cold breath of air.

  “Quick!” Daniel grabbed her hand and pulled her forward.

  “There is nowhere to take cover,” she hissed as another snowball was hurled at them. This one struck Daniel on the nose. He sputtered and was trying to clean off his face, when a second snowball hit him squarely in the c
hest.

  “For heaven sakes, woman, help me!” he shouted.

  “Oh, my,” Charlotte repeated. She reached up and tried to brush the cold, wet snow off his cheeks, but he anxiously pushed her hands away.

  “We are being ambushed, Charlotte. We must fight back.”

  Demonstrating the point, he reached down and packed a large handful of snow into a ball. While still bent over he hurled it through the air. It landed neatly on Viscount Cranborne‘s shoulder, who let out a roar of laughter.

  In rapid succession, Daniel threw several more snowballs, each hitting a target. An equal number then zoomed through the air toward them, but all missed.

  “Thankfully, my cousin Marion has dismal aim,” Charlotte shouted, to be heard over the giggles and squeals.

  It had now escalated into an unruly brawl, with everyone hurling snowballs in all directions. For an instant Charlotte wished she was standing on the sidelines, away from the frantic, frenzied activity. She wanted to be back inside, sitting in front of the fire, where it was warm and safe and dry. And sane.

  Daniel was doing an admirable job of protecting her. He made and threw snowballs faster than any of the other gentlemen and his missives seemed to always reach their intended targets. Protected by his deadly accurate aim, Charlotte began to relax, to enjoy herself until she felt a soft snowball splatter against her thigh. Charlotte turned and found Marion grinning smugly at her from a few yards away.

  “Come on, Charlotte, you need to retaliate,” Marion declared. No sooner had the words left her cousin‘s mouth, Marion was struck in the back with a large snowball. By Daniel.

  Charlotte laughed and felt suddenly, unexpectedly free. She knelt and gathered a handful of snow, formed a ball, then zeroed in on her target.

  “Wait! Stand up. ‘Tis very hard to make an accurate throw from your knees,” Daniel advised.

  Charlotte obligingly stood, reached back with her arm and hurled the snowball with all her might. It made a pleasing, splattering sound as it connected with a warm body. Problem was, it connected with the wrong body.

  Daniel‘s face was covered in snow. It dripped down his forehead to his nose, then slid past his mouth to his chin. “You look like a deranged snowman,” Charlotte whispered, before a pealing laugh broke free.

  “And you dare to criticize your cousin‘s aim,” he said. “Unless I was the true target?”

  “Oh, my, no.” She moved awkwardly toward him, thinking to help brush the snow away. But a closer look had her pealing with laughter again. He looked utterly ridiculous.

  Fortunately the battle was winding down. A truce was called. A few stray snowballs hurled through the air and then none. Exhausted, yet happy, the merry group gathered together and began walking toward the edge of the south lawn, with Lily and several of the other children leading the way. Someone started singing a Christmas carol and soon they all joined in, singing and marching along in rhythm to the song.

  Lily dropped back from her position at the front of the line to walk beside Charlotte. Grasping her aunt‘s hand, the little girl gazed up, her eyes bright with excitement. “I so wish Papa was with us. Will he come home soon?”

  Charlotte nearly stopped walking, startled to realize her brother was not among them. “Did he tell you he was going out?”

  “Yes, on an errand with Miss Rebecca. But I want him to come back so we can play in the snow together.”

  “I‘m sure he will be back soon,” Charlotte said.

  The matter was promptly forgotten by both females as they reached the top of the hill. The servants had brought the sleds and left them neatly lined in a row. There were five in total, all in good condition, most large enough for two or even three riders.

  “I want to be first!” Lily demanded, possessively grasping the rope of the largest sled.

  “Best let one of the adults do a trial run, just to be certain there are no unexpected difficulties,” Lady Marion suggested. She turned to her husband with a saucy smile. “Shall we do the honors, my love?”

  “Delighted!” Viscount Cranborne rubbed his gloved hands together before taking the rope of the sled. He sat first, then patted the space in front of him. “For you, my dear.”

  Marion giggled like a schoolgirl and promptly sat where he indicated. Daniel and Lord Bailey stood behind the sled, their hands on the viscount‘s back. On the count of three, they pushed the pair forward and the sled careened wildly down the hill, disappearing at an alarming speed.

  Marion‘s shrieks of laughter could be clearly heard even when the pair safely reached the bottom.

  “Excellent run,” Lord Bailey cried. “Who‘s next?”

  “Me! Me!” Lily pushed herself forward.

  Lord Bailey frowned. “You need at least one adult to go with you, Lady Lily.”

  “Aunt Charlotte will go.”

  “Oh, dear, I‘m not sure—”

  “I will take charge of the sled,” Daniel offered.

  “Capital idea,” Lord Bailey answered. “Now we just need to wait for Cranborne to get out of the way.”

  “I want to go as fast as lightning, Aunt Charlotte,” Lily proclaimed.

  “Mr. Tremaine will steer our sled,” Charlotte answered. “He will determine our speed.”

  “Actually, the condition of the hill will determine our speed,” Daniel replied. “And based on how quickly Lord Cranborne and Lady Marion reached the bottom, we shall go very fast indeed.”

  Charlotte swallowed back her sudden rush of panic. Gracious, was she about to make a colossal fool of herself? She turned her head toward Daniel, searching for assurance, but he was staring at the bottom of the hill.

  Her gaze went to his jaw. A shadow of whiskers was forming. The dark, faint stubble was surprisingly intriguing. She had a sudden, mad urge to reach out and touch it, to discover the feel of his masculine face.

  Charlotte wrenched her gaze away and wiped a few flakes of snow that had fallen on her cheek with a hand that shook slightly. It appeared that along with her courage, she was in danger of relinquishing the last shred of her common sense.

  “You are not going to lose your nerve now, are you, Charlotte?” Daniel asked.

  “A lady never goes back on her word,” she said with conviction. “But I will ride only if you promise to hold me tightly.”

  “Nothing would please me more.”

  For all her bravado, Charlotte was terribly nervous. She could hear her heartbeat thudding in her ears. She clasped her gloved hands loosely before her and concentrated on relaxing, hoping at the very least she was not revealing the turmoil of her feelings.

  Up close the sleds looked alarmingly narrow and frail. Charlotte swallowed hard, telling herself if she tumbled off it was unlikely she would be seriously injured. The layers of snow would provide an adequate, if cold, cushion.

  Daniel sat first, then indicated she should seat herself in front of him. “Now move back and make room for Lady Lily,” he instructed.

  Obediently Charlotte wiggled until her back was pressed snugly against Daniel‘s front. Lord Bailey helped Lily get into place, in front of Charlotte. The moment the little girl was settled, Charlotte set her arms tightly around her niece.

  “I think I shall scream,” Lily announced with an excited giggle as Lord Bailey pulled them back and then with a mighty huff shoved them off the edge of the slope. “What about you, Aunt Charlotte?”

  Charlotte answered Lily with a shriek of her own. The sled hurled down the slope at a speed that left Charlotte nearly breathless. Just when she was certain she would lose her balance she felt Daniel‘s arms tighten around her. She could feel him lean to the left and realized he was trying to steer their course. Instinctively she mirrored his movements, but in her inexperience leaned too far over.

  “Charlotte, no, just stay in place,” Daniel muttered, but it was too late.

  As they reached the bottom, the sled tipped over, dumping them into the soft snow. They rolled in it, a tangle of arms and legs. From the top of the hill,
Charlotte could hear giggling and shouting and a few male cheers.

  Slowly, she began to right herself. It was then that she saw Lily lying facedown in the snow. Reaching over, she rolled the little girl until she was lying flat on her back. “Are you all right?” she asked anxiously, brushing the snow from Lily‘s hat.

  Lily stared up at her, saucer-eyed. Charlotte worried she might be hurt, or upset by the wild ride and subsequent tumble in the snow. She ran her hands nervously down Lily‘s arms and legs, searching for signs of injury. Her touch seemed to bring the child back to life and the little girl struggled to sit up.

  “Again! I want to go again!” Lily‘s excitement could not be contained. She bolted upright, nearly fell over, then straightened. Her head turned toward the top of the hill. “Wait, Lord Bailey! Wait for me! I want to go again. There is room for me on your sled.”

  Scrambling through the snow, Lily began to run back up the hill. One of the boys sat with Lord and Lady Bailey on the sled and Lily let out a cry of disappointment. But Viscount Cranborne waved, then pointed at his sled, indicating he was saving a spot for Lily. The little girl squealed with delight and redoubled her efforts to quickly climb the hill.

  Charlotte let out a loud sigh and sank with exhaustion down into the snow.

  “Good Lord, that was fun,” Daniel exclaimed.

  “I‘m freezing,” Charlotte answered.

  Daniel scooted over, half-sitting, half-sprawling on the ground next to her. He drew her into his arms so that her spine was pressed into his stomach and her bottom was against his groin. He began rubbing the chilled length of her arm.

  “I hope you are getting warmer. I know that I am.” His voice was dryly humorous. “Are you tired? Shall we return to the house to get dry and warm?”

  “No. Let‘s ride again. But this time, let me steer.”

  He laughed and she joined him. They stood. Charlotte held out her hand and allowed Daniel to tug her back up the hill. Snow had gotten in to the top of her boot, numbing her left ankle. Actually, both her feet were wet and cold, her nose near frozen. She was sore in places a lady never mentioned, much less thought about.