Again they stared at each other.
“They would,” they said at once.
“The question remains,” Colin added, looking speculative. “Did they?”
Kit didn’t seem to know the answer, and Colin knew he had no idea.
“We have to find out,” Kit said in a whisper, as if the wives were somehow eavesdropping on their conversation.
Colin nodded in agreement. “It’s going to take a lot of work.”
Kit nodded back. “We’re going to have to be very, very careful. This whole thing could get very complicated very quickly.”
That was an understatement. Susannah and Marianne were exceptional women, and they did much good for the family and the tenants of every estate, and they certainly kept their husbands in line when things got to be too harried. But they were a force to be reckoned with individually, let alone together. And in recent years, they had found more and more to unite them, which terrified their husbands to no end.
If they had decided to mount this gift-giving extravaganza for the family, it would be absolutely hellish to try and put a stop to it.
“I’ll see what I can find out,” Colin murmured with a nod as he headed for the door.
“I’ll do the same.”
Colin gave his brother a warning look. “Careful. Your wife has claws.”
Kit looked mildly amused by that. “She’ll be delighted you think so.”
“Everybody thinks so,” Colin retorted derisively. “Why do you think we’re all so polite with her?”
He didn’t wait for Kit to respond to that, and strode out of the office, calculating his next step.
Or he would have been, had he not been suddenly acutely aware of the sounds of screaming coming from the breakfast room.
He glowered in that direction. “Happy Christmas, Colin Gerrard,” he muttered to himself as he marched dutifully towards the unmistakable sounds of many Gerrards in some self-inflicted distress.
Footsteps behind him told him that his brother was following, and further steps than that spoke of additional reinforcements coming to flank him.
Brilliant. They would likely need all of them to figure this mess out, whatever it was.
Upon entering the breakfast room, Colin was mightily tempted to turn around and leave the melee for someone far more responsible and adult-like to deal with the issue. It was his first, most natural instinct, and always had been, despite the fact that this was his family, in some cases his children, and he was the adult.
Moments like these made him regret that he had grown up, though he had been an adult for several years now.
But he highly doubted any adult in the world could be prepared enough for the next generation of Gerrards.
Freddie had Rosie by the hair and was forcing her to walk around the table until she apologized for something, while she screamed and gripped at the braids he was pulling, defiantly not apologizing. She was reaching for any and all silverware, but all remained safely out of range. Bitty watched them in horror, giving off small squeaks of screams to echo her sister’s. Ginny tried to trip Freddie every time he came near her, but didn’t seem to care very much if she did so, considering she was also calling for him to pull harder.
Livvy was eating quietly, but flinched when Rosie screamed. Rafe and Matthew, only just able to feed themselves, were a complete mess, but happily ignorant of the strife the others were creating, tossing their food across the table to the empty spaces.
The two footmen in the room looked horrified and torn between laughing and stepping forward to act.
The nannies tasked with minding the children were nowhere in sight.
He heard Kit offer a mild expletive behind him.
“Any direction as to how to handle this would be much appreciated,” Colin muttered to him.
Kit exhaled, and Colin could feel him shaking his head. “I’ve got nothing here, brother. I just keep thinking what Duncan would do, and that doesn’t seem particularly helpful right now.”
Colin found himself smiling. Duncan would take charge and bark orders that would be implicitly obeyed, somehow terrifying everyone without doing very much at all. Kit’s brother-in-law and one of Colin’s best friends was a very large and imposing man, but would probably be just as commanding if he were the size of any other man.
Like Colin, perhaps.
“What would Duncan do?” Colin said to himself. “Right.”
He lowered his brow and strode into the room. “What is going on in here?” he bellowed with all of the irritation, frustration, and annoyance he had felt building up in the last few days.
The room stilled and everyone stared at him in surprise.
Surprise was not exactly terror, but at least it made things stop.
Kit was swift to come to Colin’s side and folded his arms with the sort of authoritative attitude that he’d always managed.
Bitty whimpered and tried to make herself smaller in her chair. Freddie stopped yanking on Rosie’s hair, but still held her braids in his grasp. Rosie wasn’t struggling anymore, but she looked as though she wasn’t about to be intimidated by her brothers or their attempts to manage her. The little ones were shocked, looking as though they might cry at any minute.
Ginny, on the other hand, was grinning at her brothers in delight. “Rosie told Freddie he ate too loudly. Freddie told Rosie she eats too much. Rosie said Freddie was dumb. Freddie said Rosie was ugly. Rosie said Freddie wasn’t actually part of the family, then Freddie got up and yanked her hair and turned her into a cart horse until she said she was sorry. Which she did not do.” She nodded primly to herself at her recitation, then took a large bite of biscuit with jam, apparently perfectly at ease now.
Colin looked at Kit for a moment. Ginny might have been a bit of a trial, but they had long since learned that when it came to her siblings, Ginny had an absolutely perfect recollection of events as they had transpired.
“Ginny!” Freddie and Rosie protested at the same time.
“Oh, Ginny,” Bitty said with a heavy sigh, rubbing at her brow.
Ginny shrugged. “He asked. I told. You’re the ones who did it.”
“I should have gotten her a muzzle for Christmas,” Freddie muttered, “but she takes after her sister.” He tugged on Rosie’s hair again for effect.
“Ouch!” she shrieked, gripping at it.
“Colin, do something!” Susannah snapped from behind him.
“Kit!” Marianne echoed.
Belatedly, the brothers sprang into action. They forcibly separated Rosie and Freddie, which took some effort, as Rosie had it in her mind to throttle Freddie once his hold on her hair had lessened. Colin finally hefted his son over his shoulder and carried him from the room, while Kit, less inclined to do the same with their sister, simply restrained her while they left.
“Put me down, Papa,” Freddie demanded as they moved down the corridor.
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Colin replied, listening as his wife and Marianne cleared the children from the breakfast room in the sort of tone that would have sent him running from them even now. “Not until you are perfectly calm and able to explain to me in a rational manner what possessed you to act in that way.”
“I…”
“And remember, I witnessed it,” Colin overrode. “So you are already starting on treacherous ground.”
Freddie said nothing as Colin carried him towards his study. The boy heaved a sigh and slumped over Colin’s shoulder in resignation. “Yes, Papa.”
Colin nodded, then winced as he realized he could not go into his rarely used study, as it was currently hiding an excessive amount of presents that he could not let anyone under the age of twenty-five see.
He shifted direction and moved to enter one of the sitting rooms, closing the door behind them.
“Are you calm, Frederick?” Colin asked.
“Yes, sir,” came the dejected response.
Colin nodded, then moved Freddie down to sit on the sofa, pulling a nearby chair clos
er for himself. “Now, tell me what happened.”
Freddie looked confused and his brow wrinkled. “You heard Ginny,” he told him, waving his hand towards the breakfast room. “You know she never lies.”
“Well, that is a debatable point,” Colin mused with an almost smile, “but she certainly never lies about stuff like this.”
Freddie almost smiled back. “She was fairly accurate.”
“I want to hear your version,” Colin told him with all the patience he hoped to attain in his life. “Why did you bait Rosie?”
“She started it,” Freddie pointed out with marked defiance.
It was all Colin could do to avoid sighing. He had heard this argument many times over the years, and had made it many, many times himself in younger years. Only as a parent did he understand the irritation that phrase could inflict upon the listener.
“That is neither surprising nor helpful,” Colin said, managing to sound gruff. “You know how Rosie gets. Why provoke her?”
Freddie shrugged a shoulder. “I wasn’t in the mood for her rudeness this morning. And I don’t understand why she gets to say whatever she wants and I don’t.”
“Siblings everywhere wonder that exact thing about at least one of them,” Colin assured his son. “It’s not just you.”
“But the point remains,” Freddie reminded him.
“Yes, it does.” Colin did sigh now and shook his head. “I don’t know why Rosie is so difficult, but Kit is dealing with her at the moment, and I trust his judgment will fit the crime.”
“Not in my mind,” Freddie grumbled.
“What was that?” Colin asked without patience, though he knew what had been said.
Freddie did not care to repeat himself, and chose to glower instead.
If anyone had told Colin that parenting would be this challenging to one’s sanity, he might have thought twice about taking on the endeavor.
But it had seemed like a good idea at the time.
Amateur mistake.
“Fred,” Colin tried in a much gentler tone, “what set you off? Why the physical torment?”
Freddie looked up at him with a furious expression. “She said I wasn’t part of the family.”
Colin nodded slowly, feeling something twinge and twist in the pit of his stomach. “Yes, I heard that, and you know very well that we will not take that kindly. But was that really cause to attack her?”
“Why shouldn’t I defend myself?” Freddie demanded. “I know I’m not a real Gerrard, but why does that matter?”
“Hold on,” Colin scolded sharply. “Just hold on for one moment. Not a real Gerrard?”
Freddie ducked his chin and folded his arms.
“Is that what you think, son?” Colin asked, suddenly feeling much worse about the entire situation than he’d imagined. “Is that how you feel?”
“No,” Freddie admitted reluctantly.
“Tell me.”
“I don’t feel any different than Matthew or Livvy, or baby Amelia,” Freddie said, losing his defensive air for the first time. “It feels like you’re my real father, and our houses are my home. It feels like Rafe and Cat and baby Daphne are my cousins. I even feel like family with the girls.”
“That’s because you are!” Colin insisted, reaching out to put his hand on Freddie’s shoulder. “You are. Like it or not, Frederick Robert Gerrard, you actually are a Gerrard. A real one. Whatever that is worth. You are one of us, and no one should make you feel otherwise, regardless of what they say.”
Freddie looked at him for a long moment, then nodded and rose to give Colin a hug.
Colin wrapped his arms around his son and held him close. “You were always going to be one of us, you know that? From the first moment we met you. If I didn’t marry your mother and adopt you, Kit was ready to adopt you himself.”
That made Freddie laugh in surprise and he pulled back. “Really?”
“Really,” Colin said with a nod. “So be grateful I’m your father and not him, eh?”
Freddie pretended to consider that, which made Colin whack him lightly on the back.
“You are going to need to apologize to Rosie,” Colin told Freddie as he stepped back.
“What?” Freddie protested loudly.
“Yes, son,” Colin insisted. “She may have laid the final blow for you, but yanking on her hair and parading her around the room like a prized pony is not exactly gentlemanly behavior. It was wrong; quite wrong.”
Freddie looked at him with a speculative air. “But amusing, right?”
Colin almost laughed, but by some miraculous feat of parental strength managed not to. “It was wrong,” he said again. “And you will apologize, or you will spend the rest of the Christmas season in your room.”
Freddie opened his mouth to reply, but Colin was quick.
“Without books,” Colin added. “With nothing to amuse you at all except Bitty and her hair ribbons.”
The horror on his son’s face echoed what Colin would have felt himself at the threat, which was why he had made it. No twelve-year-old boy wanted to be trapped with an eleven-year-old girl who was so mesmerized by fashionable accouterments and finery that it was all she spoke of.
“Yes, Papa,” Freddie finally said, moving to the door of the room.
“I’d wait a few minutes, Fred,” Colin suggested as he sat back in his chair. “Rosie takes a while to cool off once her temper has spiked.”
Freddie nodded and opened the door. Susannah stood there, Amelia still in her grasp, and she gestured for Freddie to come to her. He hugged her around the waist, and she kissed his head, then sent him on his way.
Colin put his hands over his face and slumped even more.
“That was well done, love,” Susannah praised as she entered the room.
“It felt like torture.” He slid his hands down and looked up at her. “Did you hear all of it?”
She nodded reaching out for his hand. “I was outside the door the entire time.”
“I’d have done the same thing at his age if anyone had said that to me. And to have it be Rosie…” He shook his head and squeezed her hand. “Why would she say that?”
“You know she didn’t mean it that way. My siblings and I used to say the same thing to each other, and it became a running joke.” She sighed softly. “It just means something different for Freddie.”
“I wish it didn’t,” Colin murmured to himself. “We’re all Gerrards, every one of us, but that basically just means we’re mutts. It’s not something to seek after. I’m not sure I’d want to be part of us if I wasn’t already.”
“I would.”
He looked up at her in surprise. “Really?”
Susannah smiled at him warmly. “I always wanted to be a Gerrard. You and Kit fought so vigorously with each other, but then five minutes later you were best friends again. Your life had been so hard, but you just lived on and never lost your spirit. I wanted to be part of that.”
Colin cocked his head, considering his magnificent wife in a new light. “And now you are.”
She shrugged lightly. “And now I am. And I couldn’t be more pleased about it.”
“Even today?” he asked dubiously.
“Even today.” She tugged on his hand, forcing him to get to his feet. When he’d done so, she slid her hand up into his hair and pulled him down for a slow, leisurely kiss that dismantled him from the inside out and made him forget everything but her.
Susannah broke off and chuckled. “Feel better?”
Colin cleared his throat and tugged at his cravat. “Much.” He looked down at his daughter, who eyed him with a curious, yet knowing smile. “What have you to say, Miss Amelia?”
She suddenly flailed a hand towards him, and he scooped her up quickly, tossing her into the air, making her squeal in delight. He brought her close and showered several kisses on her plump cheeks.
“Sir?”
Colin groaned and looked to the door, tucking Amelia against him. “Yes, what is it?”
>
Harward stepped further into the room. “Sir. Mr. Johnson from the stables says you sent him on an errand this morning to scour the land.”
“I did,” Colin confirmed with a nod. “What of it?”
“He says he’s found one, sir, and that it will be perfect.”
Chapter Four
"Isn't this just perfection? The crisp winter air, the beauty of these trees around us, and no sound at all but what we make ourselves?”
“You’re making enough for all of us, and it’s hardly anything praiseworthy.”
“Is it supposed to be this cold?”
The lack of appropriate response to Colin’s attempts at enlightenment made him scowl as he looked behind him at his son and brother. “You know, the pair of you could try for a little optimism.”
Kit grinned at him and shrugged. “I’m very optimistic. We’ll be returning home with a large and apparently perfectly proportioned tree for the family, which is exactly what I want.”
Colin nodded in approval, then looked at his son. “Freddie?”
Freddie looked around as the snow fell and shivered. “I wouldn’t mind so much if it wasn’t for all this snow.”
“That’s not exactly what I am looking for.” Colin sighed and folded his arms. “You’re bundled up enough, aren’t you?”
“I suppose so,” came the reluctant reply. “Between Mrs. Donovan, Mama, and Aunt Marianne, I am surprised I can move out here. But Papa, this is a farming estate, isn’t it? And the men following us are farm hands?”
Kit bit back a laugh and Colin struggled with the same. “It is, yes. And they are.”
“Then why are we out here with them?” Freddie cried, flinging his arms out. “This isn’t a job for gentlemen! Uncle Kit will be a lord soon, and this is not appropriate for a lord!”
Kit looked up at Colin with a smug look that clearly said, “And how are you going to answer that?”
“Where are you finding this description of a lord or gentleman that says he can’t go out into the forest on his own land and cut down a tree for his family to decorate for Christmas, hmm?” Colin asked his son.
A Gerrard Family Christmas Page 4