Snowbound Wedding Wishes: An Earl Beneath the MistletoeTwelfth Night ProposalChristmas at Oakhurst Manor (Harlequin Historical)

by Allen, Louise

* * *

  The following day dawned clear and bright and the children clamoured to be allowed outside again, particularly as Eleanor’s boys had mentioned the toboggans stored in the gardeners’ shed and the possibility of going out on the hill. On learning of their request Charles consulted his wife at breakfast.

  ‘I can see no reason why not, can you, my dear?’

  ‘No, if they wrap up warmly then I am sure the fresh air will do them good,’ said Eleanor. ‘Nevertheless, it is hardly reasonable to expect their governess to traipse through all this snow, never mind to stand around in the cold as well.’

  ‘One of the footmen can go out with them to keep an eye on things. Parfitt, I think.’

  ‘Very well, my dear. I’ll inform Miss Minching of the arrangement after breakfast.’

  Sir Digby looked across the table. ‘They’re a lively bunch of youngsters, aren’t they? Quite a handful, I imagine.’

  ‘Children are usually little trouble if they are occupied in the right way,’ said Eleanor.

  ‘To be sure,’ he replied. ‘In any case, you’ll soon be able to pack ’em off to school, won’t you?’

  Cynthia nodded. ‘School is the best place for them.’

  ‘Quite right,’ said her brother. ‘Out of sight, out of mind, eh?’

  Vivien raised an eyebrow and exchanged glances with Eleanor. ‘I never had the least wish to be rid of my offspring, did you?’

  ‘No, never.’

  Sir Digby reddened. ‘I did not mean to offend. The words were only spoken in jest, I assure you.’

  ‘No offence taken, sir,’ said Eleanor. ‘However, I have to tell you that I mean to make the most of my children while they are children.’

  ‘And I,’ said Vivien.

  ‘Well, of course you do, dear ladies.’ Sir Digby’s flush deepened. ‘One would expect no less.’

  Across the table Max smiled quietly. That brief exchange only served to reinforce his opinion of Feversham. The man seemed to have little idea of what really mattered to Vivien, but then that was no bad thing either. Such sentiments could hardly endear her to him.

  Cynthia’s gaze flicked from her brother to Max. ‘I am quite sure that the children will have great fun in the snow. However, the rest of us would doubtless prefer to remain in the warm. Would not you, Mr Calderwood?’

  ‘Not in the least,’ he replied. ‘A good bracing walk will be just the thing.’

  Vivien bit her lip to conceal a smile. Then, meeting Max’s eye she said, ‘You rather like the snow, don’t you, Mr Calderwood?’

  ‘It’s because I saw so little of it for so many years,’ he said.

  ‘The novelty factor?’

  ‘Just so.’ He paused. ‘Would you care to take a turn about the gardens after breakfast, Lady Hastings?’

  Her heartbeat quickened a little. ‘Thank you. I should like that.’

  ‘I’ll meet you by the rear door. Shall we say ten o’clock?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  ‘That’s settled then.’

  Sir Digby glared at him but Max seemed not to notice, having returned his attention to his coffee cup. However, Vivien had a suspicion that he not only knew but was enjoying the other man’s chagrin. Quietly amused, she buttered another slice of toast. The thought of spending time in the company she would most have sought filled her with pleasant anticipation.

  * * *

  Although it was bitterly cold the sunshine was uplifting and she felt her spirits rise. For a little while she and Max walked in companionable silence, enjoying the beauty of a landscape transformed.

  ‘It still appeals to the inner child, doesn’t it?’ he said at length.

  ‘You’re right, it does. Even now I can recall the excitement I felt when I woke to see new-fallen snow.’

  ‘Going out of doors to play in it was a compulsion.’ Max grinned. ‘My friends and I used to lie in wait for other children to pass by and then pelt them with snowballs.’

  ‘I hope they replied in kind.’

  ‘They did. We had some splendid battles.’

  ‘I have no trouble in visualising you in the thick of the action.’

  ‘I confess I usually was.’

  The path led through a shrubbery towards the gate that separated the garden from the parkland beyond. From the sloping field they could hear the excited shrilling of children’s voices. Max nodded his head in that direction.

  ‘Do you want to go and watch for a while?’

  ‘Yes, let’s.’

  He stood aside to let her pass through the gateway. Then he offered his arm. ‘The snow is deeper here.’

  For a second she hesitated, then slipped her arm through his and they set off in the tracks left by the tobogganing party. In fact Max was correct: the snow was deeper on the open land than in the relative shelter of the garden. Vivien was concentrating on walking rather than looking at her companion, but every nerve was attuned to his presence. At the same time it felt natural and right to be with him. Just then it was as though a dark cloud had lifted to admit the light once more.

  After a hundred yards or so the field sloped away and they found the children there, along with the attendant footman. The air rang with shrieks and laughter as the toboggans hurtled down the slope. It levelled out at the bottom allowing the speeding vehicles to come to a safe and gradual stop. As the passengers toiled back to the top again John caught sight of Vivien and waved enthusiastically.

  ‘Mama!’

  The others looked up then and waved too. Vivien laughed and waved back. Presently the children reached the top again and John hurried to meet her.

  ‘You look as though you’re enjoying yourselves,’ she observed.

  ‘It’s the greatest lark, Mama!’ He looked at her companion and smiled. ‘Good morning, Mr Calderwood.’

  Max returned the greeting. ‘How many times have you been down the slope so far?’

  ‘Four, sir.’

  ‘Splendid! Perhaps next time you should take your mama with you.’

  A chorus of delighted approval greeted this. Vivien stared at him in appalled disbelief but before she could protest John leapt in.

  ‘Oh, yes, Mama. Do say you will.’

  Rachel nodded. ‘Do, Mama.’

  Her cheeks, already pink with the cold, went several shades deeper. ‘I couldn’t possibly.’

  ‘Why not?’ asked Max.

  ‘Well, I...it’s...I mean...’ She broke off floundering.

  His expression evinced polite interest but the glint in his eyes was decidedly mischievous. ‘Yes, Lady Hastings?’

  John regarded her earnestly. ‘Please, Mama. You’ll love it. I know you will.’

  ‘There, you see. Straight from the horse’s mouth,’ said Max.

  She returned an eloquent look but if she hoped to shame him the attempt failed dismally. His expression revealed keen enjoyment. Moreover, the grey eyes held a distinct challenge now. The children looked on in expectant silence.

  Vivien sighed and gave in. ‘Oh, very well.’

  The words were greeted by a rousing cheer. She smiled at them for a moment, then turned to Max and lowered her voice. ‘I shan’t forget this, you villain.’

  ‘Indeed I hope not,’ he replied.

  Before she could ponder that obscure utterance John seized her hand and led her to the waiting toboggan.

  ‘Climb on behind me, Mama.’

  Vivien sat down gingerly and put her arms around her son’s waist. Then they were away, hurtling down the slope at eye-watering speed. She gasped, feeling the cold air rushing past her face, but the sensation was not about fear, only pure exhilaration. By the time they reached the bottom she was breathless and laughing. A second toboggan drew up just a few yards away. As she wiped the water from her eyes she recognised Max with Rachel and little Eliza, all of them laughing too.

  Rather shakily Vivien got to her feet and waited for him to join her. He grinned.

  ‘Did you enjoy that?’

  ‘I confess I did.’
>
  ‘Good. So did I.’ He gestured to the top of the slope. ‘Shall we have another go?’

  In fact they had several more turns, much to the delight of the younger contingent who took it in turns to ride with them. As Max set off again, accompanied by two of the other boys, John stood with Vivien looking on in approbation.

  ‘This is just the best Christmas ever, Mama.’

  Vivien put an arm around his shoulders. ‘I’m glad you’re enjoying it, darling.’

  ‘I thought it might be fun, but not as much fun as this. Mr Calderwood is a complete hand, isn’t he?’

  She smiled. ‘Yes, he is.’

  ‘He used to live in India, you know. Lady Dawlish told James and Michael that he was there with their uncle.’

  ‘So he was.’

  ‘I wonder if he ever saw a tiger.’

  ‘I believe Mr Calderwood once went on a tiger hunt.’

  ‘Really? Do you think he would tell us about it sometime?’

  ‘He might, if you ask him nicely.’

  ‘I will, Mama.’

  With that he went off to rejoin the others. Vivien smiled to herself. She couldn’t remember the last time her children had looked so happy or so animated. It truly was as though a cloud of gloom had been lifted. Her gaze found Max and rested there. He was instrumental in helping to bring the change about. For the life of her she could not imagine Hugh engaging in such activities; the very idea would have outraged his sensibilities. Max on the other hand had a zest for life that was infectious, a pointed contrast to all that had gone before.

  ‘Beg pardon, my lady.’

  She looked round to see the footman at her shoulder. ‘What is it, Parfitt?’

  ‘Sir Charles told me as I was to have the children back at the house in time for luncheon. It’s nigh on that now.’

  ‘All right. We’d better start to round them up.’

  When Max returned she enlisted his help and between the three of them they gathered the little party together. Then they set off back to the house. Vivien smiled to herself, letting the children’s chatter wash over her. All trace of cold had gone now to be replaced with a deep glow that suffused her with a sense of well-being and banished care. At that moment she felt truly happy, at ease with herself and the world in general.

  * * *

  When they reached the house the children were dispatched to the nursery for their lunch. As they clattered off up the stairs Max paused in the hallway with Vivien.

  ‘I hope you enjoyed yourself this morning.’

  ‘I cannot remember the last time I had such fun.’

  He surveyed her critically. She glowed with fresh air and exercise but, more important, the old sparkle was back in her eyes. He thought she had never seemed more desirable than now.

  ‘You should have fun more often,’ he said. ‘It suits you.’

  * * *

  It appeared that he was not the only person to think so. When she appeared in the dining room later on Aunt Winifred surveyed her in surprise.

  ‘How well you look, Vivien. The fresh air has done you good.’

  ‘Thank you, Aunt. I really think it has.’

  Sir Digby pursed his lips. ‘You were out so long I feared you might take a chill.’

  ‘There’s no danger of that, as long as one keeps moving,’ replied Vivien.

  ‘I had no idea that the gardens were so extensive.’

  ‘We went out into the park,’ said Max.

  Sir Digby’s fork paused in mid-air. ‘The park, sir? In this weather?’

  ‘Yes, the children were tobogganing there.’

  ‘Indeed.’ Sir Digby smiled stiffly. ‘Well, I do hope the little dears enjoyed themselves.’

  ‘I believe they did, sir.’

  ‘I’m glad to hear it.’

  ‘And not only the little ones,’ Max went on. ‘I enjoyed myself too. Uncommonly so.’

  Sir Digby eyed him coolly. ‘It must have been a pleasant sight.’

  ‘Oh, it was. Don’t you agree, Lady Hastings?’

  Vivien fought the urge to laugh. ‘Indeed, sir.’

  ‘Your presence must have been an unexpected treat for the children, my lady,’ said Sir Digby.

  Max nodded solemnly. ‘You never said a truer word, sir. I only wish you could have seen their faces.’

  Vivien shot a warning glance across the table. It was met with a disarming smile.

  Chapter Eight

  For the remainder of the afternoon and evening they mingled with the other guests and Max made no attempt to monopolise her time. Although she made every effort to join in Vivien found her thoughts wandering. It occurred to her now that the earlier romp with the children might just have been Max being kind. He knew what her situation was, or most of it at least, and perhaps sought to alleviate some of the strain. If so, he had succeeded very well. All the same, it would be a mistake to refine upon it.

  A burst of laughter from across the room drew her attention to where Max was engaged in a rubber of whist with Charles, Annabel and Cynthia. His expression just then gave every indication of enjoyment and when Cynthia said something to him he smiled at her. Vivien looked away. Now more than ever her feelings seemed foolish. Circumstances had thrown them together again and he was endeavouring to make the best of things for both their sakes.

  ‘May I join you, dear?’

  She looked up to see Aunt Winifred. ‘Yes, of course.’

  Her aunt took the vacant seat beside her. ‘This is a pleasant gathering, is it not?’

  ‘Very pleasant.’

  ‘I am so glad that you are enjoying yourself, my dear.’ Her aunt paused. ‘All the same I cannot help but feel a little concerned.’

  ‘Concerned? How so?’

  ‘I think that perhaps you are not indifferent to Mr Calderwood.’ Seeing Vivien’s look of surprise, Aunt Winifred hurried on. ‘I do not mean to interfere, but I do not wish you to be hurt either.’

  ‘Do you think I might be?’

  ‘My dear, I would be the first to admit that he is a very attractive man with the most courteous and agreeable manners, but his station is life is still far below your own. Your family—’

  ‘Rate a man’s worth by his rank and by how much he owns,’ replied Vivien. ‘It is a faulty yardstick as I have discovered.’

  ‘I’m not sure I follow, my dear.’

  ‘I once married to please my relations and had nine years to repent the mistake. I shall not repeat it.’

  Aunt Winifred’s expression registered shock. ‘I had no idea...I thought... Oh, my dear, I’m so sorry.’

  ‘So was I, every day.’ Vivien sighed. ‘The fault was not Hugh’s; it was mine for failing to appreciate how ill suited we were; for thinking respect would be enough. You may believe me when I say that I shall be very cautious about taking such a step again, if indeed I ever do.’

  ‘Yes, after what you have said I imagine you will.’

  ‘I have shocked you and I’m sorry for it, but I can’t pretend any longer.’

  Her aunt surveyed her sadly but made no reply.

  * * *

  That night there was a hard frost which, combined with fog, contrived to keep everyone within doors the following day. Several of the gentlemen opted for billiards or cards. Seeing Cynthia sit down with Max to a game of piquet, Vivien’s heart sank. Since their walk he had made no attempt to single her out and, although he was unfailingly courteous, gave no sign that the episode meant anything to him other than being part of the festive fun. Like a fool she had placed too much construction on the event. Thus, when Sir Digby asked if she would like to join him for backgammon she agreed. It would pass the time and occupy her thoughts.

  * * *

  The next hour passed uneventfully enough. Vivien deliberately kept her attention on the board and from time to time made an appropriate response when her companion ventured a comment. Across the room she heard Cynthia laugh. Sir Digby smiled.

  ‘Those two certainly do seem to be getting on famously.
’

  Vivien schooled her expression to polite neutrality. ‘Do they?’

  ‘Oh, yes. I thought so from the first and my instinct is infallible.’

  ‘That must be very useful.’

  He beamed at her. ‘Very useful indeed.’

  When the piquet game ended Max collected the cards and then laid the pack down. He had no particular desire to play another hand but good manners required that he ask. Cynthia shook her head, eyeing him speculatively.

  ‘I think I’d like to stretch my legs a little. Perhaps you would care to take a turn with me, Mr Calderwood.’

  ‘I fear it is too cold to go out, ma’am. I should not wish to be responsible for your taking a chill.’

  ‘How very thoughtful.’ She smiled up at him. ‘You are quite right in saying that it is too cold to venture out of doors, but I believe we might safely walk to the gallery and back.’

  He resigned himself. ‘As you wish.’

  Vivien glanced up from the board and saw the pair leave the room together. Her spirits sank as she realised that her earlier assumption had been right. Max was nothing more than an old acquaintance. His interests lay elsewhere.

  Sir Digby followed her glance and smiled triumphantly. ‘You see, I told you my instinct was good.’

  His smug expression made her want to slap him. She controlled the urge. ‘So you did.’

  ‘I foresee a match there.’

  ‘Well, your instinct is infallible.’

  He laughed softly. ‘That is not the only match I foresee.’

  ‘Goodness. At this rate you’ll have the whole population paired off.’

  ‘My interest is in one lady only.’

  Vivien’s heart sank further.

  * * *

  Max and Cynthia strolled along the gallery, pausing occasionally to examine the portraits. He wished now that he had not agreed to this; good manners were one thing but this had all the potential for turning into something rather different and quite possibly awkward. He needed to bring it to a conclusion as soon as possible.

  ‘It is quite cold in here, Mrs Vayne. It might be better if we returned to the salon.’

  ‘It is a little chilly.’ She turned to face him. ‘Although I am in no hurry to leave.’

  Max pretended to misunderstand. ‘Your love of art does you credit, ma’am.’