Christmas Roses: Love Blooms in Winter

by Putney, Mary Jo

  "You'll have your hands full stepping into your father's place, I'll warrant," Mr. Drummond said gruffly, accepting the offered hand. "I'll lend a hand wherever you need it."

  "I appreciate that, sir. Would you like Frankie or Freddie?"

  Charles said it with such a straight face that the older man looked momentarily nonplused, but when the girls giggled and Mrs. Carrington rapped her son's arm with her fan, Drummond caught the joke and nodded. "Those young scamps will have you thinking twice about starting your own nursery. I can remember when you and ..." His voice trailed off as he realized his error in almost mentioning his son, and he returned morosely to his glass of brandy.

  An awkward silence fell, into which Jonathan had the misfortune to step. He had attempted to brush back his unruly dark hair, but that only emphasized the healing gash along his brow. His navy tail coat fit his broad shoulders to perfection, but his cravat had a rakish angle created by his inability to use his right hand. The civilized cut of his silver-gray waistcoat and pantaloons did nothing to disguise the striking darkness of his visage or the bleakness of that whitely bandaged hand.

  "Do I interrupt?" he inquired with brave frivolity.

  "No, do come in, Jonathan, and have a seat," said Mrs. Carrington. "I was about to send Charles for the lambs-wool to take the chill out of everyone's bones. Charles?" She quirked an eyebrow at her eldest son, who, responding with alacrity, left the room.

  "Yes, have a seat," Diana urged him. "Cook has prepared a light supper before we go off to church, and it will be ready shortly. Mama, the twins might stay up until then, may they not? The carolers will be here soon, and I think they're old enough to behave." Diana shot her younger brothers a meaningful look, and they returned it with bright grins.

  The normal, everyday activities of the Carrington family removed Jonathan from the center of attention, and he settled into a large chair away from the fire where he was hidden in shadows. His attempt at disappearing from the company did not go unnoticed. Diana rose to perch like some malicious angel upon the arm of his chair when no one else seemed prepared to chastise him for his rudeness.

  "How good of you to join us, darling. Wouldn't you care to step over here by the fire and warm yourself? I should think you would have learned to appreciate a good fire by now."

  Since the word darling had once been an epithet they had thrown at each other when warned against calling each other impolite names, Jonathan didn't misunderstand Diana's message now. And since the yule log had not yet been lighted, she was veritably hitting him over the head with his misconduct. Instead of resenting her interference, he threw his avenging angel a grateful look for easing the awkwardness of his situation.

  "You are quite right, my darling," he answered suavely, smiling and catching her off guard. "I am behaving like a graceless savage. I shall have to practice returning to civilized ways. Did Charles find the tinder from last year's fire?"

  "He did," she assured him. "It's in the basket."

  Jonathan rose and appropriated Diana's arm to lead her across the room to his mother. Mrs. Carrington nervously embarked upon a monologue about the supper she had prepared. The twins, of course, left to themselves, began to eye the kissing bough. They were on their own. He needed to speak with his mother.

  "Mother, you are looking fine, as usual. Shall I light the fire for you? I'm sure Charles won't mind if I relieve him of one of his many duties this evening."

  His mother ignored his father's furious expression and gazed up at him with adoration he didn't deserve. "It is good to have you back, Jonathan. Your letters have been the delight of my life since you've been gone."

  Hiding his relief that she'd received his missives and wasn't entirely furious with him, Jonathan glanced down at Diana, who still clung to his arm. "Do you hear that? I haven't lost my touch. I think I shall take up writing letters for a living."

  "All you have to do is find someone who will buy them," Diana replied solemnly. Then releasing his arm, she lifted the basket containing the remaining pieces of last year's log. "Shall you do the honors, sir?"

  "Sir" was much more promising than "darling," and Jonathan graciously accepted. He was well aware he was goading his father into a greater fury, but he couldn't help himself. He resented having to win the affection of his own parent.

  Charles entered carrying the steaming bowl of punch while Goudge managed the difficult job of drawing open the dining room doors. The twins shouted in joy at the heaping platters of the buffet revealed.

  Their mother hovered at Charles's shoulder. "You are certain you added the proper amount of sugar? Your father always said if it was not done just the proper way ..."

  "We shall let Mr. Drummond taste it to declare whether it is proper done or not, Mama." Charles lowered the silver punch bowl to the table and graciously ladled out the first cup for their guest. "I trust I haven't forgotten all of my father's teachings."

  Mr. Drummond sipped experimentally at the mixture of hot ale, spices, sugar, and apples, and nodded his head in approval. "Your father taught you well, young man. He would be proud of you this day."

  Jonathan winced at this chance remark, and Diana clenched his arm.

  "You have spent four years risking your life so that they could celebrate this Christmas in safety," she whispered.

  "It is not your place to interfere," Jonathan warned, but he might as well speak to the hounds in the hunting painting over the mantel.

  "My father was proud of both Jonathan and Charles," Diana remarked on the comment that had not been made to her. "Papa always said if it weren't for such men as them, Napoleon would have walked across England as he has Europe."

  She said it quietly, without defiance, but polite conversation all across the room died. Mr. Drummond turned as if noticing her and his son for the first time.

  In the candlelight Diana's mahogany tresses shimmered in a rich halo about features as fair as fine porcelain. Even his father couldn't fail to recognize that she had grown into a striking woman instead of the young chit who once got caught in the top of his best apple tree. He couldn't scold her as he would a child. Not only would it mar the memory of his late friend's words, but she was right.

  Jonathan watched his father struggle with the dilemma of acknowledging her truths. He in turn, tried to put himself into his father's shoes. The old man had suffered humiliation when his only son had rejected his lands and position for the life of an adventure-seeking soldier. He would believe Jonathan had to be punished.

  "Your father was quite likely right, Miss Carrington, as he was in many things." That was as far as his father could unbend.

  Unprepared for his father's grudging admission, Jonathan crouched to set the fire licking at the brittle kindling beneath the log. He had no defense ready when Diana launched her attack.

  "My father also said it was wrong for a son to act against his father's wishes without trying to understand his father's reasons. It is not always possible to adhere to the wishes of one you love, but if you truly love him, you would at least listen and consider his feelings."

  Jonathan heard more in her words than he dared admit. Reluctantly, he lifted his gaze to the passion blazing in Diana's eyes, then turned to face his silent father. He had never been very good at apologizing, and he still felt himself the wronged party, but it was Christmas, and he could not abide this distance that separated him from his family. In her outspoken manner, Diana had offered him the opening he could never have made for himself. He took the cup of punch Charles shoved between his fingers, and raising it, nodded to his father.

  "Your father was a wiser man than I, Diana. Perhaps it is still possible to learn from him. Charles," Jonathan caught his host's eyes and raised his cup in salute, "To fathers, past, present, and future, who must bear the ingratitude as well as the affection of their unthinking sons. May we bear the task as well when our turn comes."

  Charles grinned and winked roguishly at the young ladies watching from the corner. "I'll drink to that. To f
atherhood."

  A loud "harrumph" of disapproval at the blatant flirtation removed the grin from Charles's face. Mr. Drummond lifted his glass to join in the toast. "Past, present, and future—that was very well said. I'll drink to that."

  It wasn't a healing of the breach, but it was a rough acknowledgment that a rift existed.

  The village musicians, who earned extra shillings at Christmas by roaming from house to house singing the ancient carols, arrived to fill the huge old drawing room with song and share the punch.

  Neighbors stopped by to enjoy the chorus and to exchange greetings, and the strained atmosphere dissipated in the general merriment.

  Jonathan and Charlie became the center of festivities, but above the heads of his well-wishers, Jonathan observed Diana as she entertained the guests. He could not decide whether she had defended him out of affection or her usual determination to see things right. It mattered little enough. His father obviously wasn't prepared to admit his own pigheadedness and welcome his erring son home. Jonathan couldn't blame him, he supposed, but he couldn't forgive him easily, either.

  They had all chosen their paths; there was nothing for it but to go their separate ways, it seemed. The package he'd hastily wrapped earlier and stuffed in his pocket had no purpose anymore. He must have been crazed even to consider it.

  Catching a glimpse of Freddie eyeing the highly polished apples adorning the branches of the kissing bough, Jonathan managed a wry smile in remembrance of Christmas past. He and Charles had often connived some means of reaching those tempting apples, even though their stomachs were filled to overflowing with delicacies from the table. Judging by the spills adorning the front of Freddie's coat, the lad had already sampled everything else, but the forbidden apples always looked more delicious than what was at hand.

  Successfully evading several older couples saying their farewells, Jonathan slipped up behind Freddie and whispered, "What will you give me if I help you reach one?"

  Freddie beamed up at him. Without hesitation, he offered, "Me and Frankie got the mistletoe like Elizabeth said. We gave it to Charles, but we'll fetch you some, too, if you like."

  Jonathan chuckled. "Is that what you scamps were up to? I'll not send you back out in the cold. The information is sufficient payment, thank you. Climb up on my shoulders. We should be able to reach that low one there."

  Since the branches were hung so that the lowest loop just barely missed his head, Jonathan could have plucked the apple for himself, but that wouldn't have been nearly as much fun for the boy.

  Without thought to the crease of his coat, he hoisted Freddie into the air where the lad triumphantly captured his prize.

  From her corner of the room, Diana watched this display with a peculiar wrenching feeling in her midsection. A man like Jonathan should have children of his own. He had always been patient with Marie, more so than Charles had been with his younger siblings. She could tell by the smile on Jonathan's face that he was enjoying the mischief as much as Freddie.

  Perhaps he hadn't changed as much as she had feared. Perhaps it was only his feelings toward her that had changed. Or perhaps she had only imagined those feelings in the first place, mistakenly thinking his attentions more than those of an older brother, when all he did was play the part he played with Freddie tonight.

  "Look, that package has my name on it!" Freddie cried excitedly from his lofty perch. "And there's one for Frankie!"

  "And it will still have your name on it in the morning when you come down." Charles strode to stand beside them and lifted the imp from Jonathan's back before Jonathan could discover the difficulty of lowering that hefty weight with a bad knee and one hand. "Where's Frankie? It's time you're both off to bed. The guests are starting to leave."

  Both hands filled with apples, Freddie came down reluctantly. "Aren't you going to hang the mistletoe, Charles? Can we help you?"

  Charles exchanged a laughing glance with Jonathan as his secret was revealed. "It can't be a kissing bough without mistletoe, can it?" To his brother, he added, "Go upstairs now and we'll see about the mistletoe later. It's a surprise, so not a word, mind you!"

  They watched as Freddie located his twin and the two ran off whispering together. Jonathan followed Charles's gaze toward the three young women conferring in the corner by the fire. He doubted that Charles was watching his own sisters.

  Thoughtfully, Jonathan studied Marie. She had turned into a beauty in the four years since they had left. She was almost a woman at seventeen. Had Charles truly fixed his interest there? She seemed terribly young.

  Diana, now, was a different story. She had been a pretty child, like Marie, when they left. She was a stunning, self-assured woman now.

  "Have you discovered yet if another has captured Diana's fancy?" Charles asked. "I can't believe you were fool enough to go off to war without securing her pledge. If I'd known Marie would become such a diamond, I would have sought hers. Now I suppose I'll have to fight her suitors away."

  Jonathan quirked an eyebrow but did not look away from the focus of his attention. "Diana was young and had only been out one Season. I couldn't ask her to wait for a man who might never come back, not any more than you can ask Marie before she's had time to test the waters. So don't lecture me, Carrington."

  "Then make haste while you can, sapskull, instead of idling time like some moonling. I'd see her wed to you before any other I know."

  Jonathan shot him a wry look. "You'll not ever make a proper head of the household with that attitude. You haven't inquired into my prospects. They don't look particularly bright, you realize. I haven't a feather to fly on. My father still isn't speaking to me, and with a crippled hand, I have very little use in any position."

  Charles gave him a look of disgust that spoke his opinion of these objections. "You're quite correct. You forgot to mention you haven't a wit in the old brain pan, either." With that frosty remark, he left to see off the remainder of their guests.

  Diana was caught by surprise when she entered the dining hall some minutes later to discover the only other occupant was Jonathan. Almost everyone had left or retired upstairs to rest and freshen up before midnight services. She had intended to help in packing the boxes of left-over food for the needy.

  The cold punch had been returned to the kitchen, but Jonathan sipped tea kept hot over the chafing dish while he sampled the moist remains of a fruit cake. At Diana's appearance, he gestured a greeting with his cup.

  "I was hoping to speak with you, but you seem to be avoiding me. Have I given you cause for offense?"

  Nervously, Diana glanced away. His eyes still had the ability to send her heart into a rapid flutter, although she had considered herself well past the stage of girlish palpitations. His presence made her more nervous than that of any man she knew, which was senseless. Four years could not have made that much difference in the person she had known all her life.

  "I've been trying to help Mama. It's been difficult for her. Forgive me if I have neglected you."

  Jonathan winced. "It is I who have neglected you, Diana. I wanted to thank you for what you did earlier. My father and I are much alike in some ways, as you have already thrown in my face several times. The silence between us would never have been broken without your aid."

  "I only did what I've been scolded for time enough again. It always surprises me when I'm no longer ordered up to my room directly after one of my outbursts." Diana managed a wry smile. Despite the fact that Jonathan seemed almost a stranger—an exciting stranger, she was forced to admit—this was Johnny, and she had never kept anything from her best friend.

  "My father and I tend to keep our grievances to ourselves," he continued. "You are like a burst of fresh air between us. Perhaps that is why I have always admired you."

  The tone of his voice and the warmth in his gaze heated her cheeks. She had not remembered his proximity disturbing her quite like this. She feared the moment he tried to touch her—he would know her heart then.

  Perhaps the
y could still remain friends if she did not let him see how he affected her. "I daresay that is why you and Charles rub along so well. He is as light-headed as I am. Feel free to invite us over whenever you and your father are at loggerheads. We'll bring the twins and turn the house wrong side out. Elizabeth is the only sensible one among us."

  "It is not likely that my father and I will be sharing the same household any time soon," Jonathan said in resignation. Changing the subject, he added, "I had supposed you would be married by now and helping your mother bring out Elizabeth. Is there a special suitor waiting for you when your mourning ends?"

  Diana contemplated screaming at him and beating her fists against the starched linen of his broad chest until he awakened, but she resisted and smiled coolly, instead.

  "I've had suitors enough, thank you. As I've told you before, marriage never seemed worth the effort."

  She turned to walk away, but Jonathan halted her with his words. "None of them to your taste is that it, Janey? All too tame, perhaps?"

  Diana swung back around. "You think I've had no offers? There was old man Thompson, I suppose. He was quite wealthy and stuck his spoon in the wall only a year after he married the sixteen-year-old who finally consented to be his bride. I could be a wealthy widow today. Or if you think it is tameness I dislike, I'll have you know Lord Ashley asked for my hand just last spring. I suppose he thought my irreverent tongue covered a multitude of sins and we would suit."

  "Ashley?" Jonathan's eyebrows shot up to his hairline. "The man's a rogue through and through. Whatever was your father thinking to entertain him?"

  "Perhaps he was thinking I had enough sense to know a rake when I see one. Anyway, Ashley's married now, too. I hear his new wife is already expecting an heir and is currently enjoying her freedom while he dallies with his latest courtesan. But forgive me, I should not mention such subjects." Diana's tone grew more acerbic as she spoke. "I should entertain you with my other prospects. One is quite the gentleman and my mother is holding out fond hopes we will make a match of it. He is unfailingly polite, unlike some men I know. He has a considerable fortune, I am told. He is well-favored and quite persistent in his attentions. I am sure any woman would be delighted to be the object of his affections."