Thawing the Viscount's Heart: A Christmas Regency Romance (Belles of Christmas: Frost Fair Book 3)

by Mindy Burbidge Strunk

  Kirtley barked out a laugh. “Yes, indeed. I could not have found a better match than Eleanor.” His laughter subsided, turning into a soft smile instead.

  Aaron’s chest tightened. “I can tell from the looks you share that yours is a marriage of love.” Was that envy in his voice? He hoped Kirtley had not heard it.

  “I am fortunate. It does not always happen that you fall in love with the one that is best for you—at least not in the eyes of your father and the Ton.” Kirtley motioned to Aaron with his glass. “What of you, Camp…er, I am sorry, Brinton.”

  Aaron waved away his friend’s apology. “Do not make yourself uneasy. I have difficulty remembering it myself.”

  Kirtley chuckled. “Yes, but you seem to have no problem calling me something different from when we were at Eton.”

  “Yes, well, we always knew you would become Lord Kirtley. While we called you Viscount Lislemont, in the back of our minds we called you Kirtley, even then.” Aaron sucked in a deep breath. “Whereas I was never meant to be Viscount Brinton. It was never in the back of anyone’s mind to call me such.”

  “You have my condolences. Henry was a good man.”

  Aaron ran a hand down his thigh. “Yes, he was.” And I am reminded of it daily.

  Kirtley grinned. “Have you been too busy fighting Napoleon to find yourself a wife?”

  Aaron chortled. “I suppose that is the way of it.” Now that he was home and settled as the Viscount Brinton, society—and his mother— would expect him to find a wife and start a family. Especially after Henry had died without an heir. The need for Aaron to have one would undoubtedly become something for his mother to latch hold of. He was rather surprised she had not begun the lectures already.

  Chapter 5

  Gabby climbed the stairs slowly toward the nursery. It had been months since she had spent any quality time with the children. Gabby was not a governess, after all. The voice in her head sounded remarkably similar to Lady Kirtley.

  It was true, she was not a governess. But did it have to follow that she could not enjoy the children’s company? Gabby had missed teaching them French and reading them stories—playing their silly little games. Even if it seemed to annoy Miss Carter.

  Gabby had no siblings. Nor did she have any cousins—none that she knew of, anyhow. It was likely the reason she had taken instantly to Peter when he had come to live with them. While her father had always been attentive, it had been different having someone younger, more knowledgeable of society in this new century. Gabby grinned. Her father had never fully come out of the last one.

  But even Peter could not serve the same function as a sister. And that is what Gabby had found the most endearing in the Kirtley nursery—Katie and Sophia. Two little sisters she had never known she needed. They were both far too young to discuss things such as gentlemen and the latest fashions—neither of which interested Gabby overly much—but it had surprised her how much she had bonded with the little girls and so quickly.

  Now that their time together was limited, Gabby realized just how much she needed them.

  Gabby wrapped her arms around her middle, the coldness—open hostility, even—of their host, had enhanced the ever-growing feelings of loneliness even more. Gabby found herself almost desperate to spend time with her sisters. She even believed she could endure Winston’s company for a time.

  The door to the schoolroom was open a crack. She could hear Miss Carter speaking to Katie and Winston. Katie was visible as was half of Winston.

  Gabby grinned as Katie bent her head to do as Miss Carter instructed, while Winston smirked and fiddled with his pencil. Miss Carter tapped her finger on his slate and whispered. Knowing Miss Carter, she uttered words of encouragement. The governess had not yet realized what Gabby had. Winston did not need coddling; he needed a firm hand and the enticement of fun if he did his assignments. It was amazing what the promise of ice skating could do for the boy.

  Gabby had tried to explain as much to the governess, but Miss Carter had wanted none of Gabby’s interference.

  Winston grumbled.

  A wail sounded from within the nursery and Gabby’s chest tightened. Some time ago, Gabby would have been the one to fetch Sophia and comfort her until she fell back to sleep. The little girl must have awakened early from her nap. If she awoke naturally, she was a happy child. But if something awakened her, Hades himself would send Sophia back. The crying indicated the latter this time.

  Gabby waited, listening for Nurse Jones to get the little girl, but Sophia continued to cry. Unable to stand it a moment longer, Gabby pushed through the door. “Where is Nurse Jones? Why is no one to fetch Sophia?”

  Miss Carter raised a brow. “My job is these children, not the babe.”

  Gabby sighed and looked heavenward. Miss Carter had never been what Gabby would call a friend. “Where is Nurse Jones?” she asked again.

  “She is below stairs.” Miss Carter turned her attention back to Winston, who seemed perfectly content with the distraction.

  “Very well. I shall see to Sophia.” Gabby turned on her heel, but a moment of rebellion seized her, and she turned back. “Winston, if you finish your assignment for Miss Carter, I will take you ice skating. I have the perfect view of a little pond from my window.”

  Miss Carter glared at her, but Winston nodded and bent his head low, scribbling on his slate with new fervor.

  Gabby bit the side of her cheek to keep from openly laughing and headed for the nursery door on the far side of the room. She twisted on the knob and slipped inside. Her heart swelled when the little girl lifted her arms up.

  Gabby smiled and pulled Sophia to her, wrapping her arms around the small body. “Hello, kitten. I am here now. No need for tears.”

  She moved over to the rocker and settled Sophia on her lap, the girl’s head resting on Gabby’s chest. Stroking her silky hair, Gabby murmured quietly in Sophia’s ear.

  It did not seem to matter that the words were in French, Sophia quieted, her little body shuddering periodically from the bout of tears. Before long, the shudders turned to deep sighs and soft snores.

  Gabby sang softly as she rocked back and forth, breathing in the scent of Sophia’s hair, mixed with the saltiness of perspiration brought on by her fit of tears.

  The door swung open soundlessly on its hinges and Nurse Jones stepped lightly into the room. She smiled at Gabby, mouthing her thanks for Gabby’s help.

  Gabby nodded. It was times like this when she questioned if it would be so terrible to be a governess or nurse. She had never felt such unconditional love as she had from this child. But Lady Kirtley had assured Gabby that there was no need for her to settle for such a life. Peter had ensured that Gabby had a sizeable dowry, ensuring an advantageous marriage. Or so Lady Kirtley believed. Gabby, however, had her doubts.

  Nurse Jones gathered several things from the room before leaving Gabby alone with Sophia.

  The little girl shifted in Gabby’s arms and she knew she should lay her back down in bed. Gabby sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was abandon Sophia. If she did, it would require her to find something else to occupy her time. After her little stunt with Winston, it was doubtful Miss Carter would be obliged to cut the lesson short today. Besides, it was the first time in weeks Gabby had felt needed—felt wanted—and she was reluctant to let it end.

  A throat cleared in the doorway and Gabby looked up smiling, expecting to see Nurse Jones. Instead, Lord Brinton stood in the doorway, his perpetual frown firmly in place. “Ah, here you are.” He did not lower his voice in the least. Did he not notice the child asleep on her lap?

  Sophia shifted.

  Gabby raised a brow and pulled the girl tighter to her, placing her hand over Sophia’s ear. “Yes, here I am,” she whispered, then looked down at the little girl in her lap. Surely, Lord Brinton would understand the hint.

  “I have been looking for you, Miss…” He did not lower his voice until he trailed off upon realizing he did not know her name. That was why
he had not used it, was it not? Had she ever heard him call her by name? “No one seemed to know where you were.”

  Gabby narrowed her eyes. Was he daft or did he wish to wake a sleeping child? “I am here,” she whispered fiercely. Maybe if she emphasized the whisper, he would figure out that he should whisper also. “What ees it zat you need?”

  He reared back.

  A part of her wanted to speak with an even thicker accent if only to see how he would react. But she’d already acted out of rebellion once today. Additionally, she knew that Lady Kirtley would frown on such an action and think it childish. Gabby pushed the urge down. She did not want to disappoint Eleanor. Sometimes Gabby forgot how fortunate she was that Peter had brought her here. She looked around. Not here, per se, but to England.

  “A group of us are going in search of greenery to decorate for Christmastide. Lady Kirtley thought you may enjoy coming along.” His voice was dull.

  Gabby ran a finger down the side of Sophia’s face. Was the fact that Lord Brinton had deliberately mentioned it was not his idea significant? Was he implying something—letting her know that he cared so little for her that he had not thought to include her? Gabby didn’t know why that disappointed her, but it did. “She was correct; I should love to come. Are we to leave immediately?”

  “You have a few minutes before you need to meet the others.”

  She didn’t miss that he had emphasized you. He was obviously trying to dissuade her from using we, as if it assumed too much intimacy regarding the two of them. She looked to the ceiling. What a ridiculous man he was.

  Gabby nodded. “I just need to lay Sophia down and change into something warmer.”

  He nodded and turned to leave, but not before giving her a long look. What did he mean by it?

  She lifted a shoulder. He was likely just discovering something else about her which was lacking.

  She placed Sophia in the bed and placed a quick kiss on the girl’s forehead before hurrying to her own room. Aline helped her change into her thick wool dress and her sturdy boots. She hoped the snow was not so deep it would come up over and fall inside. She shivered just thinking about the wetness running down her ankles.

  Gabby took her bonnet from Aline. “Please keep zee fire stoked, Aline. I am certain I shall be chilled through by zee time we return.”

  Her maid smiled and dipped her head. “Yes, miss.”

  Looking at the clock on the mantel, Gabby placed a hand to her mouth. “Oh, zat took longer zan expected.” She hurried from the room and down the stairs.

  Lord Kirtley and Lord Brinton stood at the bottom in the entryway, greatcoats over their arms and their beavers in hand.

  Lord Brinton thumped the top of his hat on the palm of his hand, his irritation in her lateness clear.

  “Miss Babineaux. I’m glad you are to join us.” Lord Kirtley spoke her name overly loud.

  Gabby stared at him.

  “Yes, Miss Babineaux, we are glad you are to join us.” Lord Brinton repeated, sounding anything but excited. He glanced at Lord Kirtley and then back at her. “I hope you have dressed warmly.”

  “Zees is my warmest dress. But I have instructed Aline to keep zee fire stoked so my room will be warm when I return.” She was slightly gratified by the twitch in Lord Brinton’s cheek.

  A footman appeared from a side room carrying her pelisse and gloves. He bowed and held them out to her.

  Lord Kirtley nudged Lord Brinton and he stepped forward. “Please, allow me.” Lord Brinton took her coat and held it up for her.

  Gabby did not miss the scowl he threw to Lord Kirtley as she turned away from them and slipped her arms in.

  She looked at him from over her shoulder. “Zank you.”

  “You are welcome.” This gentleman had a way of making even the most pleasant of phrases sound distasteful.

  He walked away from her without another word, collecting his things from Lord Kirtley.

  Lady Brinton cleared her throat from the top of the stairs, and all eyes turned in her direction. She smiled, her gaze resting on Lord Brinton.

  Gabby looked back over her shoulder. She was uncertain what was happening between Lord Brinton and his sister-in-law. But when she looked to him, his attention was on Lord Kirtley.

  Gabby’s brows hitched a notch. Interesting. Whatever was happening, it looked to be on the part of Lady Brinton only.

  Lady Brinton glided down the stairs. The footman brought out her coat and held it up for her to slip into. She cleared her throat again. “Aaron, would you be so kind as to help me with my pelisse?”

  “Of course, Lady Brinton.” Gabby grinned. It appeared she was not the only person in this house to earn Lord Brinton’s irritations and colorless tone of voice. Although why that made Gabby happy, she was not certain.

  He passed his coat back into Lord Kirtley’s arms and stepped to help Lady Brinton.

  Lady Kirtley raced down the stairs, much faster than Gabby would have thought proper. It was refreshing to see the proper lady do something so wholly improper from time to time.

  Lady Kirtley sighed, shoving her hands into her gloves. “I do apologize, Hugh. A button fell off just as we were finishing dressing. But this cold is hard on Heath’s fingers. They stiffen up so much she can scarcely hold the needle.”

  Lord Kirtley held his wife’s pelisse. “Perhaps it’s time to find a new maid, Elea—”

  Lady Kirtley held up a hand. “No, Hugh. Do not even mention it. I will hear no more on the subject. Heath has been with my family for years.”

  Gabby leaned into Lady Kirtley, grateful that she was not willing to entertain such a notion. “You are welcome to ask Aline for help if you are in need of needlework again. She would be happy to help.”

  Lady Kirtley took Gabby’s hand and patted it. “Thank you, Gabrielle. I shall inform Heath when we return.”

  Lord Brinton finally shrugged into his own coat. “Shall we be on our way? We do not have far to go, but in this weather, I’m afraid it will feel as if we have to go all the way to the continent, at the very least.”

  “I know the best places to find the mistletoe for the kissing balls.” Lady Brinton smiled at Lord Brinton. Was she fluttering her lashes at him?

  Gabby watched in fascination.

  His face pinked, but he returned the smile with his own wooden, forced one. He motioned to the front doors. “Perhaps it would be best if we divide into groups. It will save time and hopefully keep us from freezing or at the very least, catching a cold.”

  Lady Brinton stood close to Lord Brinton. “What a lovely idea. Shall we be partners?”

  He took a step away.

  Gabby stepped forward. “Lady Brinton, I was hoping I could go with you. I have seen the lovely winter garden from my window, and I’d hoped someone could show it to me.”

  Lady Brinton flicked her gaze to Lord Brinton, then returned them to Gabby. “There is no mistletoe in the winter garden. We must go to the far side of the woods to find it.”

  Lord Brinton motioned to Lord and Lady Kirtley. “Lady Brinton, I think it best if you go with Lord and Lady Kirtley to gather the mistletoe and holly. They do not know the estate and will need your guidance to know where to go. I will go with Miss Babineaux and Paul.” He motioned for a footman to join them. “We will gather the bay branches and the yew from the winter garden.” He rubbed his hand up and down his arm and looked just over Lady Brinton’s shoulder. “I sent Jacobs to the forest this morning to cut us some evergreen branches.” He grinned, but Gabby knew it was meant for everyone but her. And perhaps Lady Brinton. “I think we shall have a nice assortment of colors and smells.”

  He placed his hand on the small of Gabby’s back and gave her a small nudge forward. She stumbled slightly, the warmth of his hand moving up her spine and into her chest. She chided herself. Surely it was just the added heat his hand provided. They hated each other, did they not? And enemies did not relish the feel of the other’s touch. It most certainly could not be excitement she was fe
eling, which left only the added heat on this cold winter day as the reason for her reaction.

  “Ready, Miss Babineaux?” Lord Brinton’s voice held a hint of excitement. Was he looking forward to being with her? A guttural sound rushed from her throat at the unlikeliness of it.

  He cast a glance over at her and sighed. That is when she realized his excitement had more to do with him not being with Lady Brinton.

  Chapter 6

  Aaron trudged back to the house with Miss Babineaux at his side. He was mildly impressed that she could keep up with his long strides. His toes felt nearly frozen; he could only assume hers were as well.

  Paul walked behind them, the bundle of branches slung over his shoulder in a large piece of canvas.

  He and Miss Babineaux made their way up the front steps while Paul veered around to the side of the house. Their outing had been a rather quiet one, not that Aaron had minded. His thoughts kept turning to what he had witnessed in the nursery. As much as he wished to shake the memory, it would not leave his mind. Miss Babineaux, with a child sleeping comfortably on her lap, singing softly as she rocked.

  Aaron frowned. It was not a memory he could reconcile with his opinions of the lady. Mireille would surely never have done something so tender, so…

  Aaron shook his head with a low growl. It was likely a ploy by Miss Babineaux to make him see her differently. Only, her ploy would not work. He was not so easily fooled—at least not this time.

  The normally cool entry felt hot to his cold nose and cheeks, the feeling of tiny pinpricks bringing instant discomfort. He looked over to see Miss Babineaux working her mouth and rubbing at her cheeks.

  “Ah, Aaron. There you are. I expected you back before now.” Lady Brinton hurried across the entryway, placing her hand on his arm. “We had much farther to go and still made it back before you.” She flicked her gaze to Miss Babineaux. “Pray, what took you so long?” Her voice held a possessive quality Aaron did not appreciate.