Once outside, Burke raised his hands to his eyes and cried out that he was blind. Neville folded his arms over his chest, waiting for Burke to adjust to the light and the cold. When he finally did, he squinted. “Neville? What on earth are you doing here?”
“I am cleaning you up and bringing you back to Hemberg.” Neville ran his eyes up and down Burke’s person. What did Eloise see in him?
“Beg your pardon,” Burke said, looking around until he found a crate. He pulled it underneath him as a seat. “But I’d rather not return to Hemberg. This place, however, is top of the trees. Let me introduce you to Daniel; he knows a lot of girls who, for a shot of whiskey, will—”
“I’ve no interest in the girls or meeting Daniel, thank you very much. I need you to come back to Hemberg.”
“Need me, eh?” Burke said, folding his arms across his chest and squinting up at Neville, though the sky was overcast and it was not exceptionally bright. “And what do you need me for?”
“I don’t need you,” Neville said. “But you need to come back for Eloise. She is . . . sad.”
Burke lifted his eyebrows, and the action nearly toppled him from his seat. “Sad?”
“You kissed her and left,” Neville said, pointing in the direction of Hemberg. “She’s kept to her house ever since, and when I went to look in on her, she asked about you.”
Burke looked confused. “She asked after me?”
“Yes,” Neville said. “And so I’ve come to fetch you. Come back to Hemberg and give her another chance. Get to know her without any games or devices to interfere. If we leave right now, we can get back in time for Christmas dinner. It would mean the world to her to have you there and a great deal to me as well.”
Burke’s eyebrows seemed fused together as he tucked his hands under his arms. “I’ve had a bit to drink today, so let me make sure I’ve understood this properly. Eloise asked after me, and you’ve come to fetch me for her, even though you’re plumb in love with her yourself.”
The pronouncement took Neville off guard, yet he could not deny it. Not honestly. “I want Eloise’s happiness,” he said evenly. “And your leaving has upset her. Please come back to Hemberg and see if the difficulty between you can be repaired.”
“You want her happiness over your own, then?” Burke said.
Neville did not know how else to explain it, and so he simply nodded.
Burke scrubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “I am not the man who will make her happy.”
What a stubborn buffoon! “Just take some time to get to know her before you make such a decision, then it will be a choice based on something of substance rather than dismissed out of hand. She is not like other women you’ve met, I’ll give you that. She has depth you can’t possibly understand after such a short acquaintance. I believe if you spend more time with her, you will better appreciate all the matters of character that make her so wholly exceptional.”
Burke lifted his head and peered at Neville. “But you hope the decision is ultimately that she and I do not continue forward.”
Neville furrowed his brow. Was that what he hoped? A quick reflection showed that he’d said as much. “If you are well suited and will find happiness together, then I would want that for you both.”
“But in your heart you don’t wish for that, do you, Franklin? In your heart, you want her for yourself.”
“You make her sound like a prized horse,” Neville said, but he stared at his shoes and kicked at a clump of snow.
“And you have avoided this question in three different forms now—are you in love with Eloise?”
In love? Neville didn’t know how to answer that. He had never been in love with anyone, so how could he know if he were in love with Eloise in a matter of days since first realizing she was more than the girl he’d made mud pies with? With Burke staring at him, he felt as though he were on trial. “I don’t know,” Neville said.
“You enjoy her company,” Burke said.
“Yes, of course, but I enjoy the company of many women. Well, not to say many women, but, well . . .”
“Do you enjoy her company above all other women with whom you are acquainted?” Burke asked.
Neville only considered the question a moment. “Yes.” There was a freedom to say it, a kind of release, as though something having bound him was loosened. He did enjoy Eloise’s company above all other women he would consider friends. He was comfortable with her, engaged by what she had to say, and never eager to leave her company.
“And you are physically attracted to her,” Burke continued.
Neville let out a breath. “To say as much makes me feel as though I am admitting to some kind of indiscretion. As though I am attracted to my own sister.”
“Which would be a problem if she were your sister, but she is not. You had no qualms admitting that you were attracted to Lila, your cousin.”
“No, I did not, but I was in America when things sweetened between Lila and me. Then they soured quickly, and I’m not sure I ever felt any sort of physical draw to her.” It was oddly simple to sum up his thoughts on that, though he’d not spent much time pondering them before now.
“Is Lila somehow interfering with your acceptance of seeing Eloise differently than you have until now? Are you still pining for Eloise’s best friend?”
“I am not.” It was the easiest question to answer, though he wondered at Burke’s rather sober inquisition. “None of this matters, Burke. What does matter is that Eloise is pining for you, and I have promised her a Christmas gift tonight at dinner. If we are not on the road within the hour, we will not make it back in time.”
Burke grinned. “And I am this Christmas gift?”
“Yes,” Neville said, dropping his voice and his shoulders. “Please come, Burke. If ever we’ve been friends, please do this for me. Assure Eloise that she did not waste that kiss on a man unwilling to invest some time with her. Please.”
Burke rose to his feet with a groan, steadying himself on the doorway once he was standing. “I daresay that if this inheritance of yours falls through, you could be a cracking good barrister, as you have presented me an argument against which I cannot defend.” He nodded crisply. “I will go to Hemberg with you, see Eloise, and set her heart at peace once and for all.”
It was an odd way of saying he would do as Neville asked, but he’d agreed to come to Hemberg, so Neville was in no mind to argue.
Chapter Fourteen
The carriage, complete with warm bricks and rugs as promised, arrived at ten till the hour. Eloise wore a light blue dress—purposely avoiding anything more festive that might remind her of the Websters’ ball—and tried not to fret about the evening ahead. If not for wanting desperately to return to a place of friendship with Neville, she’d have never agreed to this. His family would be there to belay any awkwardness, which she was glad for—Eloise loved children and found they were priceless in the way they could set a mood. Besides, what was Christmas without children?
It will be fine, she assured herself, but still kept adjusting her wool cape around her shoulders and pleating and repleating the muslin of her skirt.
She was shown into the drawing room upon her arrival and greeted warmly by Aunt Hannah and her six children. Aunt Hannah’s husband, Mr. Campbell, would be joining them on Christmas Day, once he concluded some last-minute business that had prevented him from traveling with the family. The adults chatted amiably while the children worked on a puzzle on the far side of the room for what seemed too long, until Aunt Hannah said they would go into dinner without Neville. “I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Aunt Hannah said. “But I hate to have dry goose on Christmas Eve of all days.”
They moved into the dining room, and though Eloise noted two empty chairs instead of only one for Neville, she did not comment—perhaps they hoped Mr. Campbell might arrive earlier than expected.
Dinner was delicious and certainly orchestrated by Aunt Hannah, as she related each course to some part of the Christmas story. The cl
ear onion soup, for instance, was in similitude of the atonement of Christ, which cleared all of our sinful souls so that we might live again with God. The haddock in lemon sauce related to the many parables Jesus had told regarding fish and fishermen. They were on the main course—goose, to remind them of the bounteous blessings from the Lord—when the Franklins’ butler announced that Master Neville had arrived and that he and Mr. Burke would join the party as soon as they had freshened up.
Eloise nearly choked on her bite of goose, then hurried to take a drink. “I’m sorry,” she said, realizing that most of the table was watching her. “Did he say Mr. Burke is here?”
“I believe so,” Mr. Franklin said, looking at her with concern. “You are acquainted with Mr. Burke, are you not?”
“Yes, I am,” Eloise said, trying to gather her wits about her. Mr. Burke? Here? “I just understood that he’d left Hemberg, and I did not expect him to return so soon.”
“Neither did I,” Mr. Franklin said. “In all honesty, I thought Neville a bit relieved when Mr. Burke left last week, but then I make it a point not to interfere too much in my son’s affairs. He asked to have a place for Mr. Burke at the table before he left to fetch him yesterday, and that was enough for me.”
Eloise forced a polite smile as her mind turned new thoughts, round and round enough to make her dizzy. She had asked after Mr. Burke yesterday during Neville’s visit and tried to remember what Neville had asked her—“You are missing him?” That’s what Neville had said, and she had assured him that she was not missing Mr. Burke. Yet he must have left shortly afterward to bring Mr. Burke back. Why on earth would he do such a thing?
Making sense of the situation was interrupted by the butler introducing Neville and Mr. Burke to the room. Eloise nodded a welcome but could not meet either man’s eye. Was there any way she could leave without being the rudest woman ever to dine at Franklin Farm?
Mr. Burke was seated at Eloise’s left while Neville sat directly across from her. She busied herself with cutting her portion of goose into tiny pieces.
Aunt Hannah picked up her presentation of the Christmas story while Eloise kept her attention trained upon her plate. She was well aware of Mr. Burke beside her but would elbow him in the ribs before she would pretend she was glad to see him. She felt sure she could feel him smirking—what was he about? He knew she didn’t want him here, so why had he come?
Dessert was Christmas pudding, and Aunt Hannah talked of the sweetness of life and the great blessing of redemption ushered in through Christ’s birth. Eloise barely tasted it and hoped God would forgive her for not giving ample attention to the symbolic meal.
Finally, it was time for the ladies to depart. Eloise was the first out of her chair. She would go into the drawing room and proclaim herself too fatigued to stay. What luck that Aunt Hannah had included the spiritual aspects of the day into dinner so that Eloise would not feel badly for missing the entertainment. Very little about this day, aside from Aunt Hannah’s tribute, had felt like Christmas, and now even the bit of holiday spirit she’d felt had departed. She wished nothing more than to return to her own home and hide beneath the covers.
Eloise had only just stepped back from the table when she noticed the men also preparing to exit the room. Apparently, the men were foregoing the usual round of port before they would join the rest of the company.
Once in the drawing room, the older children helped the younger children hang their stockings for St. Nicholas. Eloise was considering when best to make her excuses when she glanced at Mr. Burke and he winked at her. No, she would not be staying. Very likely she would be forever known as that rude girl in Hemberg who left Christmas dinner early, but she could not abide Mr. Burke’s company for anything.
“I am sorry to cut the evening,” Eloise began, drawing her eyes downward to feign discomfort. “But I have not been well this last week, and I do believe it has caught up with me this evening. Thank you for—”
“You can’t leave,” Mr. Burke said, raising his eyebrows at her from where he lounged in one of the chairs flanking the fireplace. “What about your Christmas gift?”
At the mention of a gift, the children looked up from their stockings, some hung, some awaiting. Eloise felt her face flush. Had she been used in another one of their games? A quick look at Neville, however, showed that she wasn’t the only one taken off guard by Mr. Burke’s words.
Neville stood, drawing every eye toward him. “Um, Mr. Burke, might I talk to you in private a moment? In the foyer, perhaps.”
Mr. Burke waved his hand through the air. “Certainly not,” he said as though it were a proclamation. “What you may do is confess your love to this woman once and for all so that I might return to Newport.”
Aunt Hannah gasped, one of the children giggled, and Eloise closed her eyes as though she could pretend she were not here. The room fell silent as everyone seemed to wait for someone else to speak. In the silence, however, Mr. Burke’s words lingered—confess your love? Neville?
“Well, let’s get on with it,” Mr. Burke said.
Eloise opened her eyes, finally, and looked only at Mr. Burke, wishing she could burn holes through him. She’d had enough embarrassment at his hand and could think of nothing but preventing more. She stood and began toward the door, too humiliated to speak.
“Wait, Eloise.”
It was Neville’s voice, but it was not his grip on her arm. She knew that grip and she knew from the placement of the room which man would have reached her soonest. She spun and slapped Mr. Burke as hard as she had hit him that day at Bramble Pond. The impact spurred her rage upward another degree, and when his grip slipped from her arm, she lifted both hands to push hard against his chest, sending him backward into a chair where he flipped heels over head. “I have had enough of you, Mr. Burke, and I will ask you to never set a hand on me again!”
Belatedly, Eloise remembered she was in a room full of people—many of whom were children. Her face flushed as hot as the soup they’d had for dinner, and she tried to sputter an apology when the sound of laughter drew her attention to Mr. Burke pushing himself to his feet. If not for the embarrassment she felt at losing her temper in front of an audience, she’d have marched forward and kicked him in the side to send him down again.
“Oh, yes, Franklin, I think she will do just fine,” Mr. Burke said as he got his feet beneath him.
“Shut your mouth, Burke,” Neville said, stepping toward the other man with his hands in fists by his sides. “You have said quite enough already. You will apologize to Miss Hallstrom and then kindly remove yourself from this house. I should never have brought you back.”
“Remove myself?” Mr. Burke made an exaggerated point of straightening his coat. “But you invited me to come. I am Eloise’s Christmas gift, am I not?”
“You?” Eloise spat and turned to look at Neville, who looked ready to run Mr. Burke through. The children were now gathered together, watching events unfold as though they had never seen anything like this—which they likely had not. What did Mr. Burke mean about being a Christmas gift? And what of Neville confessing his love? She felt small and vulnerable and furious.
“Yes, me,” Mr. Burke said, still grinning like an idiot. No one else in the room was grinning. “Franklin told me how you were pining for me and begged me to come back and give you another chance.”
Eloise turned shocked eyes to Neville.
“That is not what I said, and this is not how I expected things to come about. I thought . . . I thought he’d broken your heart when he left.”
“More like answered my prayers,” Eloise countered, yet something was settling into her chest. “Wait, but you thought I cared for Mr. Burke and so you fetched him for me?”
Neville held her eyes a moment, until one of the children said to another, “She loves Mr. Burke?”
Another child answered, “No, she loves Cousin Neville.”
Aunt Hannah suddenly came to her feet. “Children, let’s go on to bed now. Come, come.�
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“But I want to see her hit Mr. Burke again, Mama,” one of the children whined.
Aunt Hannah hurried them out of the room, despite their protests of wanting to stay.
“What about our stockings?” one of them said.
“Will St. Nicholas still come?” said another.
Once Aunt Hannah and her brood were gone, Mr. Franklin made up the fourth person in the room. After looking at the other three faces, he nodded slightly. “I think I might enjoy a bit of port, if you don’t mind, and leave you young people to sort this out.” He made eye contact with Eloise, however, and smiled. “I shall be only a shout away if either of these men need to be taken to the ground. Are such terms acceptable to you?”
Mr. Franklin was leaving her here? The momentary shock quickly gave way to acceptance and even relief. She and Neville and Mr. Burke would settle things; she would convince them both that she had no interest in Mr. Burke and then she would go home and hope that one day she and Neville might forget any of this had ever happened. “Yes, Mr. Franklin. I shall call if I need you.”
“Very good,” Mr. Franklin said with a chuckle. “Have at it, you young bloods. Mind that you don’t get any blood on the carpet.”
He left the room, and Neville, Eloise, and Mr. Burke looked between one another.
Mr. Burke turned his attention to Neville. “Have you nothing to say?”
Eloise looked at Neville, too, and remembered the accusation Mr. Burke had made earlier—that Neville was in love with her. It couldn’t be true. Mr. Burke was just acting on his broken sense of a joke. Wasn’t he?
“I believe I asked you to leave,” Neville said to Mr. Burke. “I have not rescinded that invitation. You have done quite enough.”
Mr. Burke shook his head. “If I leave, then this”—he gestured between Eloise and Neville—“might never be resolved. You see, I am this Christmas gift of which Neville promised, but not in the way he expected.” The amusement had disappeared from his tone, and he looked sincerely at the two of them. “I have some confessions to make, and it is best you both hear it so that nothing gets confused in some future retelling.”
A Country Christmas (Timeless Regency Collection Book 5) Page 7