She remembered frowning, thinking she already had too much to do on Christmas Eve as it was! With servants to feed as well as the earl and his countess, how was she supposed to create all the nibbles for the ball?
His next words had her grinning though. I’ve seen to it we have all the sweets and bubbles we need for such an occasion. I brought them with me from London.
So happy was she to hear she had been absolved of baking biscuits and cakes for a ball, Watson had been tempted to kiss the man. But seeing as how he was married now, she merely thanked him and said she would see to the rest.
As for bubbles, she wasn’t quite sure what the man meant. Were the servants expected to take baths, too?
For the past ten years of Twelfth Night balls, it had just been the earl and the butler and the footmen dancing with the female servants. This year, the countess would be part of the festivities, and Watson hoped Lady Torrington would deign to dance with the male servants.
In the meantime, wreath-making required a different sort of service. Tea and coffee. Foods easily eaten with fingers. Cakes. A high tea, of sorts, she had decided. Grinning broadly, she hurried off to the pantry to gather what she could to make meat pasties and scones.
“Do you smell that?” Milton asked as he inhaled. He experimentally sniffed his fingers, rather stunned to discover they still smelled of pine.
“Indeed,” Adele murmured, her nose buried into his neck. “Bay Rum, is it not?”
Milton blinked. “I was thinking pine,” he replied, just then realizing why she responded as she did. He buried his nose in her hair. “And citrus,” he added in a whisper. “Happy Christmas.”
Adele sighed. “Is it?” she wondered, referring more to the date than to whether it was happy or not. As of dinner the night before, she had no idea how her lady’s maid would respond to such a greeting. She almost wondered if she still had a lady’s maid.
Would Simpkins have recovered from her heartbreak?
Rather doubtful. Although the woman had put on a good show whilst helping dress her for dinner, Adele knew she was still rather raw from learning Mr. Banks’ attentions may not have been true. She hadn’t required the woman’s services after that, Milton assuring her it was better he see to her needs than to ring for Simpkins.
And so she hadn’t.
Milton had been almost mum on the topic of his valet, merely saying he was still in residence and would remain so until Milton saw fit to die. Then he can go to Darlington, he had added in a huff.
Which had her wondering something.
“What happened last night?”
Milton blinked. “You don’t remember?” he asked with a good deal of disappointment in his voice. “I thought the neighbors were going to pay a call to find out what all the screaming was about,” he added when he saw her look of consternation. When Adele blinked at him, he lifted himself onto one elbow and gave her a quelling glance. “You begged. You pleaded. You screamed, ‘yes,’ at the top of your lungs, and then you whimpered a bit,” he claimed before he finally allowed a grin. “It was absolutely the best night of my life.” He sobered suddenly. “You’re quite sure you don’t remember?”
Adele allowed a broad smile, one hand moving to his chest to give one of his nipples a quick flick. “Of course, I remember that,” she replied in a whisper. “You were ever so attentive,” she added before giving him a kiss. When she pulled away, she said, “I was wondering about my lady’s maid, is all.”
Inhaling slowly, Milton allowed a wan smile to develop. “Time will tell, my sweeting, but I do believe your Simpkins is an even more content woman this morning,” he murmured.
“So, you did apologize? Just before I found you in her quarters?” she chided. She couldn’t imagine what the servants must have said over their breakfast that morning, but she was sure there would be rumors her husband was having an affaire with her lady’s maid.
He nodded. “And begged forgiveness. Which she accepted after a time.”
“Was he there?”
“He, who?”
Adele gave her husband a quelling glance. “Your valet, of course.”
“Well, not when I was there,” he replied with a shake of his head. “I explained everything to him when he came to my bedchamber last night. That was before I went to speak with Simpkins, but when I returned, he was gone.” Although such behavior by most servants wouldn’t have been tolerated, Milton didn’t expect to see the man until ten o’clock that morning. He glanced over at the clock on the mantle, rather happy to see he had another hour or so before they would be interrupted.
“Is he angry with you, do you suppose?” Adele wondered. At her husband’s furrowed brow, she added, “I would be furious. Why, I would certainly be tempted to tender my resignation and move to Darlington to live in Mill House and have servants wait on me instead of having to wait on an earl who has ruined my chances at love with a lady’s maid,” she added in a rush, a good deal of spite in her voice.
Her husband sighed before suddenly covering her lips with his, one of his hands smoothing over and around a breast as he moved his body atop hers. When he finally pulled away, just enough so his lips still touched hers, he said, “I love you. I love you even when you’re angry with me.” He kissed her again, and continued to do so until she whimpered and all the anger seemed to flow from her body. And then he buried himself in her, relieved when she seemed to welcome him, more relieved when her knees lifted to press against his thighs, and even more relieved when she met his every thrust with one of her own.
“He’s not angry, I promise you,” he whispered between thrusts.
“Oh?” Came her breathless reply.
“I’m about to see to making it right,” he managed.
“Indeed?”
“Larger quarters.”
“Huh?”
“Time off.”
A quick gasp was her only response.
“A proper wedding.”
Adele clenched on his manhood, rather stunned at hearing the simple words.
Milton held still, his body on the verge of giving in to his release. “A wedding trip.”
Her hands suddenly gripping his buttocks, she pulled him hard against her quim, and a moment later, her chest lifted from the bed, and she allowed a happy sigh. “Happy Christmas.”
“You minx,” he accused, just before he seemed to shatter into a billion tiny pieces of intense pleasure.
“Don’t you forget it,” Adele whispered with a happy sigh.
Chapter 40
It’s Beginning to Look a Lot...
In the great hall
At eight o’clock in the morning, two footmen carried a long table into the great hall. Piled high with pine boughs, the room’s original trestle was the source of the scent that permeated most of the lodge this morning. A wheelbarrow, overflowing with even more branches, had been rolled into a corner.
“Where did you find that one?” Devlin asked as he nodded toward a trestle similar to the one hidden beneath the greenery. That trestle had probably been in place for over three-hundred years, he considered.
“Back there.” Gabriel nodded toward a row of tapestries that hung beneath the animal heads. “Behind the rugs. There’s another one, too, so we’ll have enough seating for dinner tomorrow night, too.”
Devlin was about to inform him the rugs were called ‘tapestries’ when two maids arrived with their arms full of red fabric. “Where shall we sit?”
Gabriel was quick to pull out a bench for the maids. “Why, right here, miladies,” he said as he waved them over to the second trestle. “You’ll want to wear some old gloves, though. Keep the sap off your fingers,” he added as he pointed to several pairs of leather gloves that had been piled next to the pine boughs. Although a few looked as if they had been worn by the gardeners, others were obviously old gloves worn by prior generations of Torrington ladies.
Several cutting tools and rounds of wire were scattered about. “Haversham said he would see to cutting the wir
e for you. Oh, and don’t forget to make a kissing bough, if you would. We didn’t have one last year.”
The two maids exchanged knowing glances, as if they had deliberately overlooked northern England’s replacement for mistletoe. The one they had made two years ago had been made of an evergreen bough, flowers fashioned from paper, apples, and fabric dolls representing Mary, Joseph and Jesus. A footman had seen to hanging it above the door that led to the kitchens and then insisted he be kissed every time a maid had to make her way through the door.
Hence, no kissing bough last year.
Trasker entered and set about building up the fire. Despite the size of the massive fireplace, it was barely able to provide enough heat to keep the room comfortable for anyone near the front doors. Once everyone in the lodge gathered in the great hall, the room would grow warm and feel cozier as the decorations were created and hung.
By the time the footmen had the last table in place, a kitchen maid had joined the other maids. Haversham, looking a bit bleary-eyed, limped into the great hall and started work on cutting the wire.
Two more footmen, followed by Trasker, made their way in carrying chairs. Having dressed the countess and styled her hair for the day, Alice arrived and looked a bit sheepish as she wondered what to do. Another maid waved her over to join in making small ribbon bows. Alice couldn’t help noticing the look of surprise Haversham directed her way, almost as if he didn’t expect to see her communing with the other servants of Torrington Park. Well, just because they didn’t make wreaths for Worthington House didn’t mean she didn’t have an appreciation for how they did Christmas in the country! She set to work learning how to make the bows and ignored the driver.
Having sent her rather joyous lady’s maid to join the others working on the greens for Christmas, Adele made her way through the dressing room. Her relief at seeing Simpkins so content that morning had only added to her own happiness. She and Milton had enjoyed a rather spirited round of lovemaking earlier that morning, after which he had presented her with a lovely necklace. The pendant, a jeweled version of a holly leaf, was strung on a gold chain. He had it around her neck and fastened even before she got out of bed.
I’ll wear it today, she had said. With my red Merino wool gown.
Not particularly familiar with the various fabrics from which his wife’s gowns were made, Milton merely nodded and offered a comment about it being appropriate for the occasion.
Now Adele wondered just how important the occasion of the hanging of the greens was in this household.
Before she reached the door into the master suite, she realized Banks was still seeing to her husband. Hearing his voice, she paused. She didn’t intend to eavesdrop. She didn’t intend to overhear her husband’s words.
But she couldn’t help but listen.
“I want nothing more than to keep her happy, you see. Sometimes that means I will say and do things that are quite... stupid. Idiotic, really.”
“I am well aware of your affection for Lady Torrington, my lord.”
“I’m not finished. I’m trying to beg your forgiveness here. It was foolish of me to suggest you bed her maid, and worse that I brought it up again yesterday. I should have known you couldn’t be compelled to do such a thing if it didn’t suit you.”
There was a moment of silence. Perhaps her husband’s words had the valet fainting.
Had he ever apologized to the valet before?
Adele waited for the tell-tale sound of a thud that would indicate Banks had hit the Axminster carpet, but instead she heard only silence for a time.
Perhaps the man had taken his leave of the bedchamber.
What if he had left in a huff? She couldn’t blame the upper servant if he had, but if he had taken his leave—if he did leave the earl’s service—she would lose her lady’s maid, she was sure. Simpkins would follow Banks wherever he went.
She almost moved to open the door, but Banks’ finally spoke.
“Although I experienced the longest day of my life yesterday, I appreciate having lived it. I now understand what you mean when you speak so highly of your countess, and I also know how easy it can be for simple words to be misunderstood.” There was a pause as he inhaled. “But you should know that I had every intention of leaving your employ last night—”
“I read your note of resignation.”
“—And the only reason I did not take my leave of Torrington Park was because...”
The words suddenly ceased, and Adele held her breath in anticipation of hearing the rest. The silence lingered. She nearly cried out in exasperation before her husband spoke after another quiet moment.
“Vexing creatures, are they not?”
“Very, my lord.”
“But well worth the trouble they cause.”
This last had Adele straightening, her annoyance apparent in how her brows furrowed. She almost—almost—flung open the door, but thought better of it.
Milton would know she had overheard his words.
“Might I have your permission to spend time in her company whilst you’re on your sleigh ride this afternoon?”
Adele gave a start. It was Christmas Eve. Milton had promised to take her on a sleigh ride once the great hall was decorated.
“You don’t need my permission.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Sensing it was safe to enter, Adele gave a quick knock on the dressing room door and entered the master suite. Banks was still buttoning the earl’s topcoat when she said, “Happy Christmas.”
Banks immediately stepped back and bowed while Milton held out a hand in an invitation for her to join him. “How does it look down there?” he asked.
Adele dared a glance at his nether region, her brows furrowing. She couldn’t exactly say anything in front of his valet!
“In the great hall,” Milton clarified, his eyes crinkling in delight when he realized his unintended entendré.
Her eyes widening with understanding, Adele gave a shake of her head. “Why, I haven’t been down there yet. I sent Simpkins a few minutes ago.” She watched for some kind of reaction from the valet, but he was as stone-faced as a statue. “I was hoping to go in with you,” she murmured.
“I won’t be long,” Milton replied. “But I do think you should go in first. See what the maids are up to. This place may lack the appropriate number of servants, but at least the maids here are a creative sort.”
Adele nodded. “If you think so. But what about breakfast?”
The earl shook his head. “Watson does things a bit different for the hanging of the greens,” he said. “Serves tea and coffee and some nibbles we can eat whilst we do the work,” he explained with a grin. “It’s a sort of soirée but with pine boughs,” he added.
Turning her attention to the valet, she asked, “Is that true?”
Banks stared at her a moment, his attention on her gown. It seemed as if he was about to say something, but thought better of it. He finally gave a nod. “His lordship has described it perfectly, my lady. And no one will go hungry.” He didn’t add that the servants had already been served a small breakfast earlier that morning, mostly because he and Simpkins had elected to miss it in favor of spending more time in her bed. A not very comfortable bed, but he had hardly noticed.
Adele nodded her understanding, wondering why he had stared at her with such an odd expression. After a moment, she said, “I wish to thank you, Mr. Banks.”
The valet’s eyes widened. “My lady?”
The countess allowed a brilliant smile. “You have brought such joy to my lady’s maid. I have known her for nearly twenty years, and I have never known her to be so happy. She is a different woman, and it’s all because of you.”
Banks visibly swallowed as his face took on a reddish cast. “You’re welcome, my lady,” he said with a nod. After a moment, he said, “If there’s nothing more, my lord, I should probably join those in the great hall.”
“Go on,” Milton said as a waved a hand toward the door. �
��We’ll be down shortly.”
Alonyius gave a bow and took his leave of the master suite, the countess’ words repeating in his mind. Had anyone else made such a declaration, he might have been tempted to end his liaison with Alice Simpkins simply because he didn’t want the responsibility for someone else’s happiness. But now that Alice had made her feelings for him quite clear—her apologies the night before followed by what he had woken up to find her doing to him that morning—he found he didn’t mind so very much.
He wanted to be the reason she was happy.
Damn, but where had that thought come from? he wondered. After the hellish afternoon he had experienced yesterday, did he truly want the possibility of another emotional upheaval should the woman misunderstand something he said? Something he did?
During those hours of reliving her accusations and her anger, Alonyius realized he had never felt more lonely in all his life.
Which was worse? The possibility of Alice being angry with him again? Or the loneliness he realized he might experience for the rest of his life?
He was on the verge of comparing the two when he entered the great hall and nearly stopped short. Nearly every servant at Torrington Park was busy doing something. His gaze immediately found and stopped on Alice, her beatific smile directed on one of the maids with whom she sat and tied a red ribbon into a perfect bow.
The red ribbon reminded him of the red gown Lady Torrington wore, and he wondered if the countess was aware of where the fabric had been manufactured. If her modiste even knew of its origin in Darlington. The shade was one his mother insisted his father make every year, despite what fashion might dictate the mill create.
When acquiring the wool from Spain became too difficult—the Napoleonic Wars had devastated the Merino sheep herds there—his brother had found a new source in Portugal. Seeing Lady Torrington wear it so regally had him experiencing a bit of pride he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in many years. He wasn’t responsible for its creation, of course, but his family’s business had made its fortunes on the Merino wool. And that red was his mother’s favorite.
The Christmas of a Countess (The Holidays of the Aristocracy Book 1) Page 26