The Christmas Kittens

by Collum, Lynn

  “By the window, my lord, for the heat of the fire might dry them out too soon.” Karis told the girls to continue the work on the cones while she made garlands from the cuttings.

  Picking up a ball of twine she'd gotten from Mrs. Shelby, Karis took a seat on the window bench. “Won't you join us, my lord?”

  His lordship pulled a straight back chair forward and sat down in front of her. He watched as Karis selected a long runner of ivy, then began attaching alternating boughs of fir, box, sweet bay, and privet to create a decorative garland.

  She smiled up at the marquess as he watched her nimbly knot the twine. “It will look much better when Nurse returns with the red ribbons, I assure you.”

  The marquess shook his head, saying, “I have no doubt, Miss Lockhart, that you will transform this grim nursery just as you have transformed my daughter.”

  “I cannot take the credit, my lord. I believe she is merely happy to have a new friend her own age.”

  “Karis!” Anthea called, interrupting their conversation, “Where shall we put the cones to dry, for the kittens will be covered with flour if we leave them on the table.”

  “On the mantelpiece, dear.”

  Finding himself fascinated with the young woman before him, the marquess remarked, “Karis, that is an unusual name.”

  “My father was a Greek scholar. He adored all things Hellenic and gave both his children Greek names. Karis means `grace' and Anthea means `flowery'. I suppose we should be happy my mother convinced him not to go with Greek Muses. I am not sure Anthea or I would have been happy being called Euterpe or Terpsichore, those being his favorite muses of poetry and dance.”

  Marsden laughed. “I believe you had a very wise mother.”

  Just then the door opened and Binx arrived. Relieved to see her employer smiling, Nurse didn't hesitate to bring the ribbon to Miss Lockhart. “I `ope I'm not too late.”

  “We have just begun, but I was beginning to worry you had gotten lost.” Karis patted the bench beside her for Nurse to join her.

  Binx eyed her charge busily painting cones white, then relaxed onto the bench. “I was delayed miss. A dark-`aired young lady with the face of an angel took a spill from `er `orse right in front of the manor. Me and a gentleman what come along tried to aide `er, but she wakes up all of a sudden, gets on the mare and rides away. Right angry she was at the young man and `im only trying to `elp.”

  Karis's hand froze. The description closely fit Dorinda but she didn't want to question the girl in front of the marquess. What had her cousin been up to? She wondered if she should warn her aunt that Dorinda was not content to wait until the dinner party to meet the marquess, then realized it would do no good. Aunt Flora couldn't control her daughter and it would only distress her to know what the girl was about.

  Pushing thoughts of her troublesome cousin from her mind, she showed Binx what length to cut the ribbon, then set the marquess to tying bows on the garland she'd finished.

  Soon completing their task, they set about hanging their creations. By the time they finished with the room, it was draped with the garlands, bows, and frosted cones. The mantelpiece greenery, with candles on each end, held red apples nestled among the fir boughs, perfectly matching the ribbons on the garland.

  “Oh, Papa, isn't it beautiful and we did it all ourselves.”

  Marsden was impressed by how a few limbs, pine cones and ribbons made such an improvement to the nursery. “Miss Lockhart, you have created a masterpiece.”

  Karis blushed at the high praise as she donned her cloak reluctantly, urging her sister to do the same. They were probably late and Dorinda would be wondering where they were. “I enjoyed doing it, my lord.

  The marquess was suddenly struck by an idea. “Then you must do the downstairs as well. We must share your endeavors with all our visitors.”

  Lady Rosalind began to jump up and down. “Oh, do please come tomorrow. Anthea and I will help you with all the work again.”

  Karis bent and kissed the child's cheek, feeling a warm glow flow through her at the marquess' request. “I cannot promise it will be tomorrow. I act as companion to my cousin and my time is not my own.”

  Lord Marsden stepped forward and took her hand, brushing a kiss on the back that sent a tingling up her arm despite the glove. “Then we will be patient and wait for you to come bring your Christmas magic to the Great Hall.”

  Karis suddenly found herself wishing her cousin to perdition, then reminded herself that was not in the spirit of the holidays. She knew she shouldn't engage in foolish fantasies about Lord Marsden. As her cousin had so recently noted, she was a lady with no expectations and Society--as well as a titled man as handsome as the marquess--would expect a great deal from the lady he chose.

  Chapter Three

  Dorinda coughed delicately several times before sagging back in her chair. “I am not feeling well, Mama. I cannot accompany you this morning.”

  Karis closely eyed her cousin across the breakfast parlor table. With her rosy cheeks and sparkling eyes, Dorinda exhibited none of the normal signs of illness. But then Karis had never seen Dorinda fall ill at any time over the past year. Perhaps her outing at Whiteoaks yesterday gave her a chill.

  Her cousin had made no mention of the escapade at Lord Marsden's gate the night before, but she'd been cross as crabs all evening confirming Karis's suspicion as to who had played the trick. Clearly the resolute miss wasn't content to wait until the party to meet the marquess.

  Lady Westerly put her cup down so quickly it rattled the saucer. “My dear, you cannot be coming down with something. Think of the expense of all that wasted food. I have already ordered two legs of lamb and two hams. Do not say you are ill?”

  “Ill! `Tis nothing so serious,” Dorinda practically shouted, then in a calmer tone she continued, “I have but the headache. I did not sleep well last night. You must deliver the invitations today, only I shall remain in my room and rest.” She smiled wanly at her mother as she rubbed her temple with one hand.

  Lady Westerly visibly relaxed, then reached over and patted her daughter's hand. There was only one thing the baroness cared about as much as her daughter and that was money.

  Anthea, munching on a piece of toast, suddenly asked, “Will you be needing Karis today?”

  In a die-away voice, Dorinda replied, “I think only sleep will help me. I don't wished to be disturbed.”

  The baroness gave her nieces a meaningful warning stare, then said, “Come, dearest, we must get you to bed at once.”

  Anthea winked at her sister, as Lady Westerly rose to escort her daughter to her chamber. “Since Karis and I shall not be needed, we wish to go for a long walk so as not to disturb dear Dorinda. A very long walk.”

  Aunt Flora was barely paying attention to her nieces. “An excellent notion, my dears. Just make certain you don't return too early for we want Dory looking her best for the party on Christmas Eve.”

  After hurrying to finish their breakfast, the Lockhart sisters quickly donned their heavy cloaks and bonnets before making their way to Whiteoaks, each looking forward to seeing a different member of the family. The trip through the woods seemed longer than normal due to their excitement.

  As Anthea tripped along happily, she suddenly stopped when she spied a particularly lovely sprig of holly. “Do you think that Dorinda caught a chill lying on the ground trying to meet Lady Rosalind's papa?”

  Karis's brows rose in surprise. She didn't think her sister had heard her conversation with Binx much less discerned who the lady on the road was. “'Tis very possible.”

  “Do you think she wishes to marry him?”

  There was no doubt in Karis's mind, but she merely said, “Dorinda is about to make her come out and she is looking at all the gentlemen to find a proper husband.”

  Anthea hummed thoughtfully. “Then why is she so dreadful to Mr. Tanner? He is rich, very nice and he likes her in spite of her rudeness to him.”

  “In Society's eyes, a baron's daugh
ter might look higher for a husband than a mere squire's son, my dear.”

  Her sister again fell into step beside her, walking in silence for several minutes, smelling the holly branch she'd plucked. Suddenly she tugged Karis arm, pulling her to a stop. “I don't want the marquess to marry Dorinda. She would be as hateful to Lady Rosalind as she is with us.”

  Seeing the worried expression on her sister's face, Karis hugged the child, then held her at arms' length. “I know you like having a new friend, but we have little say in Lady Rosalind's life. I believe the marquess to be a very good father and you can be sure he will choose an excellent mother for his daughter when the time comes.”

  They started towards Whiteoaks again. Anthea glanced up at her sister and casually remarked, “You would make an excellent mother, for you take such good care of me.”

  Karis felt her heart flutter at the prospect, but her rational self soon put the thought to rest. “My dear, titled gentleman do not marry young ladies without fortune or beauty.”

  Anthea frowned. “But I think you are very pretty. Besides, what good is beauty if it only covers a mean-tempered--”

  “Anthea, we should not be discussing either Dorinda or Lord Marsden. We are going to decorate Whiteoaks for Christmas and we should do so in the proper spirit.” With that Karis broke into a carol, in which Anthea soon joined her.

  Karis didn't like her sister to dwell on their cousin's faults. It only made the child discontent with their life at Westwood, and with their current financial circumstances. Anthea, at least, would live there a long time unless things changed unexpectedly, for Karis knew her aunt and uncle had different plans for her.

  They entered the manor through the kitchen door even though the marquess had invited them. That was the way Karis had always come to visit Whiteoaks and it still felt right. After all, she and her sister were little more than servants at Westwood.

  Mrs. Shelby greeted them, full of news. She had hired a footman to help her and an upstairs maid as well. As she chattered excitedly about the changes, she led them to the library where Lord Marsden and his daughter were seated, looking through a book together. The housekeeper then went about her duties.

  Marsden rose, liking the way the cold morning air had brought colour to Miss Lockhart's cheeks. He took in the drab brown dress beneath her grey cloak and suddenly wondered what she would look like in a fashionable gown. Pushing the unwanted thought from his mind, he cheerfully said, “Good morning, ladies. We were hoping you could come today. In fact, Rosalind and I were trying to look up the Greek god of good fortune to see if he would help bring you.”

  Karis laughed, feeling a warm rush of pleasure for such a greeting. Then she reminded herself, `twas that they merely wished to have their hall decorated in time for Christmas. “I believe you should pray to Hermes for good fortune.”

  Lady Rosalind went to Anthea. “Papa was wrong. He thought it was Mercury we should pay tribute to.”

  Karis smiled at the two girls who giggled at his lordship's error. “Actually, that would be correct as well. Mercury is the Latin name for Hermes.”

  The marquess beamed at his daughter. “See! Your papa does know a thing or two about Greek gods or maybe that is Roman gods.”

  His daughter was now more interested in getting outside than testing her father's knowledge and jumped up and down as she begged. “Can we begin now? Can we?”

  “If Miss Lockhart is ready.” The marquess smiled at Karis, quite unaware that the simple act made the young lady feel weak in the knees. “I hope you don't mind, but I shall have to leave you and Binx to cut the greenery. One of the new stable hands will bring the clippings in for you. I must go to Clarendon to hire a bailiff for the estate. I promise to return and help with the decorating.”

  Karis was disappointed, but she assured him they could handle things. As she watched his retreating back, she realized how much she looked forward to his return. Somehow it seemed right for them all to be together.

  * * *

  Dorinda tossed back the covers and hurried to the wardrobe. She'd waited patiently for at least a half-hour, all the while plotting her strategy. Her mother's carriage had just left and she could set her plan in motion.

  Pulling out her new burgundy velvet dress with cream-coloured lace at the neck and sleeves, she tossed it upon the bed and rang for her maid. The abigail, who thought she'd have the morning to herself, was surprised to see her mistress up. But the village girl merely did as she was bid and helped the lady dress, for Miss Westerly's temper was legendary among the servants.

  The process took nearly an hour before Dorinda was satisfied. At last feeling her best in her new dress and with her black hair fashioned just as she liked it with loose curls in the back and around her face, she chose a cream-coloured casquet bonnet with burgundy flowers about the tiny flared brim. The helmet style hat would allow her perfect face to be seen. Finally she donned a heavy fur lined burgundy cape. Giving the sleeping Princess a final pat, she set off for Whiteoaks with no maid or footman, for that was an important part of her plan.

  The journey on foot took nearly three-quarters of an hour, but at last Dorinda stood at the front door of the run-down manor. Patting her curls in place, she excitedly lifted the tarnished brass ring hanging from the lion's mouth and knocked three times.

  To her surprise, the door opened in a matter of minutes to reveal a young man in his shirt sleeves, wearing an apron and holding a polishing cloth. He swept her with an accessing gaze. Before Dorinda could utter her well-rehearsed speech, the footman announced, “Lord Marsden and Lady Rosalind are not receiving at this time, miss.”

  In her sweetest voice, she cooed, “I have only come to see one of the servants. A young girl who so kindly came to my rescue yesterday when I took a fall from my horse.”

  The young man hesitated a moment, then said, “I think that would be Lady Rosalind's nurse you're talkin' about, miss, but Binx is occupied at present.”

  “I brought a reward for her kindness.” Dorinda opened her gloved hand to reveal a shining guinea, resting on the burgundy dyed leather.

  In a flash the footman snatched the coin. “The marquess said no visitors, and I reckon he meant the servants as well. But I'll see Binx's gets it, miss.” Then he closed the door in the visitor's face.

  Dorinda Westerly was outraged. How dare the marquess refuse admittance to the daughter of a baron? Just who did he think he was? Viewing the rebuff as a challenge, she decided she would get into that house this very day even if it cost her reputation.

  She wandered up the drive, her mind deep in plots and plans. Turning to survey the weed-choked gardens, she spotted a narrow path which led deep into a hedge-bordered walk. If her childhood memory served her, she thought the path made a great arc back to the west wing of the house. The way was overgrown, but passable since winter had left only the brown leafless stalks of the weeds and brambles. The untrimmed box hedge was still green and plainly visible.

  A daring plan entered her brain. Dorinda hesitated only a moment, then she began to fight her way up the nearly impassable path. As the prickly bushes tugged at her cape and her dress, she merely reminded herself that the reward for such a journey could well be the title of Marchioness of Marsden.

  * * *

  Karis glanced at the small clock on the mantelpiece of the nursery. They were nearly finished making the garlands for the Great Hall and still Lord Marsden had not returned. She knew it was extremely foolish of her to wish to spend time with his lordship, but she attributed the desire to the fact that she and Anthea rarely went into company.

  No doubt, the marquess had lingered in the village discussing business, for their visit probably meant little to him. He likely knew any numbers of young ladies to amuse him in Town. The thought suddenly brought a tightness to Karis's chest. She pushed her musings of the gentleman from her mind, concentrating on her task. She and Anthea could not spend all day at Whiteoaks, no matter the inducement, for someone was likely to wonder about the
ir long absence.

  Tying the last red bow on the final garland, Karis stood and surveyed the great piles of decorations about the nursery. The kittens frolicked among the clutter. Picking up an grey one who was trying to untie a ribbon, she stroked his soft fur as she admired the garlands.

  “I do believe we are finished.”

  Anthea and Lady Rosalind exchanged a secretive glance, then the younger girl rose. “At Marsden Keep we always had a Kissing Bough. The decorations won't be complete without one.”

  Nodding her head, Anthea held up a small green sprig with transparent whitish berries. “I asked Jock to find us a piece of mistletoe and he did. We must have a Kissing Bough.”

  Karis smiled at the girls as she placed the kitten on the bench. “But a Kissing Bough is usually made only if you are having a Christmas party.”

  Both the young girls came forward, each taking one of Karis's hands.

  Anthea begged, “Oh, please, it won't be a perfect Christmas without the Bough.”

  Lady Rosalind added her voice. “Yes, yes, a Kissing Bough. We must have one.”

  “Very well, but you shall have to paint those remaining pine cones white and I must go to the kitchen to see if Mrs. Shelby has any more candles.”

  Binx, who'd been enjoying the afternoon making the decorations, rose. “I can do that Miss Lockhart.”

  “No, Nurse, you stay and supervise the girls so we don't end up with seven floured kittens. I must look around to see what else I might need for the Bough and I won't know it until I see it.”

  Nurse laughed, then settled into her chair to watch her charge and Miss Anthea.

  Karis exited the nursery and walked to the stairs that led back to the Great Hall, mentally listing all she would need to make a Kissing Bough. As she passed one of the large windows which lined the hall, a flash of deep red moving in the garden below caught her eye. She paused, looking down into the untamed foliage. To her horror she spied her cousin fighting her way, in the most determined manner, through the thick tangle of dead weeds coming towards the west wing.