“Wait!” Edward cried, but his brother had already disappeared.
“Problem?” Richard inquired.
Edward made a disgusted noise. “Our tutor might say no, and then we’ll have to continue with our lessons.”
“Very possible.” Richard tossed his napkin on the table.
Edward stared at him, resentment in his gaze, his mouth thinned.
Lizzy lifted a mischievously smiling face toward her brother. “I don’t have to do lessons. I’m too little.”
“But you are not too young to apologize to Mrs. Bickford for hiding from her,” Juliet said firmly. “Excuse us, gentlemen.” She took Lizzy by the hand, then motioned to Edward. Sullen-faced, the boy followed his mother and sister from the room.
Richard poured fresh, hot coffee into his cup, trying to ignore the astonishment hardening George’s face. “Is there something you’d like to say, George?”
The other man’s lips went taut. “I’m still trying to understand what I just witnessed,” he confessed.
Nonchalant, Richard raised his chin. “Juliet wants me to become more involved with her children.”
“A splendid idea.” George’s jaw muscle rippled and tensed, and then he turned to Richard. “However, if you are willing to listen to some advice from an old friend, making an enemy of them isn’t really the wisest approach.”
Chapter 10
By the time Juliet arrived back in the morning room a half hour later, Lord George was gone. Richard, who was perusing the newspaper, hastened to his feet at her entrance, his expression all politeness.
“Is everything settled with the children?” he asked.
What a loaded question! The boys had been peevish over their tutor’s displeasure, Mrs. Bickford had been frantic over the missing Lizzy, and Juliet was annoyed at the lot of them. Yet knowing at times her emotions could be far too easy to read, Juliet feigned a congenial smile. “Lizzy is with Mrs. Bickford, and the boys will finish their morning lessons and be ready to join in the afternoon festivities.”
Richard sent her a smile that was full of charm. “Excellent. Shall we begin that tour you promised me?”
Juliet found herself staring at his mouth. The abrupt, unsatisfying ending to their evening last night had left her feeling restless and edgy. His sensual, male gaze and low, husky voice weren’t helping much either, reminding her all too vividly of how easily he could turn her insensible with his kisses.
“Juliet?”
A blush rose, inflaming her cheeks. What was the matter with her? Was she incapable of thinking of anything else when she was near her handsome, mysterious husband? “Right this way,” she replied, grateful he was unable to read her mind.
She took his proffered arm, feeling the hard muscles flex under her fingertips. Ignoring the strange things the contact did to her pulse, Juliet guided Richard to the rooms where the renovations were completed. Her agitated mood soon gave way to excitement of a different kind when she beheld the honest appreciation on his face.
Though Juliet had consulted with Richard through her letters on most of the changes, it was very rewarding to observe Richard’s reactions as he viewed her efforts. More than once she felt a twinge of smugness when she saw firsthand how thoroughly she had impressed him, and she admitted to herself that proving her worth and abilities to him had become very important.
“A miniature version of a study?” Richard asked when they entered a small room tucked in the back corner of the house.
“My experimental room,” Juliet clarified as Richard ran his fingers over the intricate wood trim that decorated the window frames. “I was going to use this design for your office, but as the craftsman started fashioning the woodwork, I thought it might be a bit too fussy for your taste.”
“It certainly makes an impact,” Richard acknowledged.
He gazed at the room, his expression serious. Juliet also looked around, taking in the various details—the green marble fireplace, mahogany wainscoting, and crown molding all stained a deep hue. The rug was gold, with hints of green, the chairs grouped around the antique desk. Richard opened the drapery a tad wider, revealing a picturesque view of the winter garden.
The sunlight caught in his hair, making the streaks of silver at his temples glisten. The locks curled a little around the edge of his collar, and Juliet had the most absurd need to reach up and wrap one around her finger.
She nearly sighed. Richard’s masculine presence seemed to dwarf the already small room. He looked infernally handsome this morning in his suit, the dark color somehow enhancing the blue in his eyes.
Suddenly aware that she was staring at him like a love-struck schoolgirl, Juliet cleared her throat. “Would you like me to redesign your study in a similar decor?”
“I prefer my office in its current state,” Richard answered.
Juliet nodded, pleased she had made the correct decision not to redecorate, yet all the while wondering how she could understand some things about her husband so easily and be nearly clueless on others.
“I think this will serve as the perfect retreat for Edward when he gets older,” Juliet remarked as she leaned over the desk and picked up a sheet of blank paper, adding it to the ones already in her hand.
“May I ask what you’ve been writing?” Richard inquired.
“I thought this would be a good opportunity to make notes on how to decorate the rooms for Christmas. The color scheme has changed in so many of them, they will need fresh ideas.”
“Every room?”
“Of course. That’s why we must start gathering the greenery this afternoon. With a house full of guests, people will be everywhere. It’s important to walk into a room and find an instant reminder of the season—the smell of evergreens, the shine and sparkle of red and gold ribbons, a kissing ball of mistletoe fashioned above the doorway.”
She closed her eyes and sighed, pleasant memories invading her mind. “That’s part of what makes this time of year so extraordinary. Don’t you agree?”
He stiffened almost imperceptibly. “I have no sentimentality toward the holiday,” he confessed. “For me, it’s just another day. Albeit one where no work can get done, since most people are off celebrating. I don’t begrudge them that, I just don’t participate.”
Not participate? Truly? He hadn’t been a part of the joy and cheer that went so seamlessly with the generosity and goodwill of the season? She found it so uplifting to receive well-wishes everywhere one went, from neighbors old and new, even from those individuals of whom one was not overly fond. No. It simply could not be that Richard had not been touched by the joys of the season.
Granted, Colonial traditions would be somewhat different, but the spirit of the holiday remained no matter where or how it was celebrated.
When she looked into Richard’s handsome face, Juliet saw her answer. He hadn’t. He’d never fully experienced the generosity of the season, never partaken of the happy fellowship. Her heart plummeted.
Although she refused to pity him, she could not fail to be moved. He seemed to keep himself apart from others by choice and was apparently content with that decision. Still, Juliet had begun to suspect that Richard was at times a lonely person.
Christmas joy was contagious, however, especially with children around. There would be no better chance than now for him to discover that being surrounded by family and friends was a gift to hold and treasure.
“Well then, this year you will see what all the fuss is about,” Juliet said, a forced cheer in her voice.
Richard stared at her with obvious skepticism. Knowing the only way to prove her point was by providing as close to a perfect Christmas holiday as she could concoct, Juliet refused to be drawn into a debate. Deciding instead to change the subject, she refocused Richard’s attentions on the manor house.
Leaving the small study, they passed through a corridor and came upon two ancient suits of armor set on either side of the base of the servants’ staircase. Richard paused, placing a hand on one, his br
ows raised.
“We found those in the attic,” Juliet hastily explained.
His mouth twitched. “I’m very glad to hear that I didn’t pay for these scowling monstrosities.”
“I thought it might be amusing to place them in the portrait gallery, but then I caught James trying to hide inside one so he could scare Edward. That’s when I knew I had to remove them to a less conspicuous location.”
“Returning them to the attic is one possibility.”
Juliet’s brow wrinkled at the gibe. “Where they would once again languish in obscurity? Oh, no. I will have you know that these aren’t merely ornamental. While going through a stack of papers, I discovered the original bill of sale. They were bought when the manor house was built over a hundred years ago. The antique dealer who supplied them documented that the armor was made in the thirteenth century for a knight to use in battle.”
“They are in far too good condition to have gone to war.” Richard lifted the helmet visor and peered inside. “Maybe we can give them to George as a Christmas present.”
Juliet laughed, imagining Lord George’s expression on Christmas morning. “I’m afraid the boys would be heartbroken to lose them. Especially James.”
“Ah, well, we mustn’t let that happen.” Richard answered readily enough, but Juliet detected the false heartiness in his tone.
She refused to let it worry her. The little voice in the back of her head warned her it might not be that simple to get Richard to care about her children, to accept being an integral part of their family. She would need every ounce of her persuasive abilities and patience to show him the kind of future they could have together.
And show him she would. It was past time her husband realized that life for him was never again going to be the same.
The cold wind took Richard’s breath away as he stepped into the courtyard to join the group gathering together for the afternoon outing. There was a sizable number of adults milling about and a smaller number of noisy, shrieking children darting around, playing a game that resembled tag, but apparently required voices raised to an excessively loud volume.
As he scanned the boisterous group, Richard could feel a throbbing starting behind his eyes. He debated returning to the house, knowing he could use the excuse of work to escape the impending madness, but the sight of Juliet stopped him. Dressed in a sapphire blue coat with a fur-trimmed collar and matching blue bonnet, she was in the center of it all, laughing and chatting with the adults.
The sight dazzled him. He wished he could take her hand and lead her away, keeping her all to himself for the entire afternoon. But the very idea of being able to spirit Juliet off without anyone noticing was simply impossible. Pity.
“Your grim expression lets one and all know that you’d rather be anywhere else on earth,” George remarked as he came to Richard’s side. “This is supposed to be fun, you know.”
“For whom?” Richard snorted. “I still don’t understand why the servants aren’t sent to do this task. How well can it be accomplished by a bunch of women and children?”
“There are a few gentlemen along.” George huffed with exaggerated indignity, flexing his arm muscles. “And the servants follow with carts. They do all the heavy lifting and bring all of our bounty back to the manor. It’s all very civilized, I assure you. Now just shut up and try to enjoy yourself.”
“It still feels like a ridiculous outing,” Richard grumbled. “It reminds me of my history books, reading about that French queen who would dress up as a dairymaid and play at being a farm girl.”
“Marie Antoinette? What an absurd analogy.”
“Indeed. And just look how well things turned out for her in the end.”
George’s face filled with exaggerated horror. “Only you, dear Richard, could liken a holiday outing to having one’s head chopped off.”
“It does feel like I’ve agreed to attend my own execution.” Richard frowned as James and another boy ran screeching past them. “Are they always this loud?”
“How the deuce should I know? I don’t have any children.”
Shaking his head, George walked away. Richard could hardly blame him; his foul mood was certainly not in keeping with the spirit of the afternoon. Well, at least the weather had cooperated. Though cold, the sun was beaming down from a clear blue sky, the air crisp with the scent of winter.
Richard found himself near the back of the group, trying to avoid everyone’s gaze as they all started on their holiday quest. Trudging down the long sweep of lawn, he collected an impressive layer of mud on his shiny boots. A few clumps fell off while crossing over the small footbridge to the woods beyond, but the majority of the dirt remained. Edward led the way, with James close behind and a few of Juliet’s younger male cousins alongside.
The women were clustered together in the middle of the pack, though Richard clearly spotted George’s elegant beaver hat among the bonnets. It was bent toward a petite figure dressed in a black cloak, which Richard quickly concluded was Miss Hardie.
Bringing up the rear were the older gentlemen—several of Juliet’s uncles and two cousins near Richard’s own age whose names he could not recall. Their smiles were warm and friendly, but they soon fell to talking among themselves, no doubt because Richard’s off-putting manner did not invite conversation.
After what seemed like an interminably long walk, filled with excessive amounts of fresh air, the group came to a halt.
“Where should we start?” Juliet asked with a smile.
The din was almost earsplitting as everyone began talking at once. Though it would not be cut down until the day before Christmas Eve, it was agreed that the tree should be the first thing selected. Richard was still struggling to imagine the notion of a tree inside the house when everyone scattered in all directions. Unprepared for the event, he was left standing with Juliet and Lizzy.
The hunt was on.
Removing his hat, Richard ran his hand through his hair, then glanced around the dense woods. “Where shall we start searching?” he asked.
“Oh, no, we stay here. We’ll need to inspect the trees that the others locate and decide which one to choose,” Juliet said.
“This year I’m going to pick out the tree,” Lizzy declared importantly.
“You will help, dear,” Juliet said firmly.
“Juliet, come see the one that I’ve found,” a female voice shouted.
“And so it begins,” Juliet said with a sparkle in her eye.
Looping her arm through his, Juliet dragged Richard down a narrow path. Lizzy skipped ahead with lighthearted abandon, the blond curls beneath her bonnet bouncing with each step.
They arrived shortly in a small clearing. Several of Juliet’s female relations were clustered around a towering fir. Richard judged the tree to be at least twenty-five feet tall, its sweet-smelling branches hanging soft and low.
“It’s lovely,” Juliet pronounced. “Though I think a tad too tall. We’ll have to cut the top off and that would ruin the shape.”
“This one is better,” Uncle Horace insisted as he stood proudly beside a full-sized pine. Obligingly, they all turned their attention to the next candidate, a few steps away.
“It is smaller,” Juliet agreed. “And very full.”
“It has a big hole,” Lizzy announced, and everyone peered around to view the spot where the little girl pointed.
“We can cover the bare section with ribbons and decorations,” Uncle Horace sputtered. “Or turn it toward the wall.”
The group ignored the older man’s suggestions and moved on to assess the next tree.
Richard hid his growing amusement as Juliet diplomatically previewed the next few possibilities. There was no shortage of opinions thrown her way, but she would not be swayed by the pleading looks or persuasive arguments. She clearly had something specific in mind, and would not relent until she found what she wanted.
A tree. For the house. Richard shook his head, having difficulty embracing the idea. Honestl
y, it sounded like a pagan notion, something the ancient Druids might have done—worshipping nature, decorating trees.
He did recall reading that the German-born Prince Albert celebrated the birth of his first son by erecting a Christmas tree at Windsor Castle years ago. Apparently the custom had spread throughout the country, though the appeal of it was lost on Richard.
As was the appeal of the entire Christmas holiday. But he hid the worst of his ire, loath to quash the sparkle of delight in his wife’s eyes. It was clear that this was making her very happy and that, in turn, lightened his heart.
A sudden cold gust of wind nearly blew off Richard’s hat, making his eyes sting. He instinctively drew closer to Juliet to reduce her exposure to the wind, and then realized what he was doing. How strange that she roused such a fierce protectiveness in him, one of which he didn’t even know he was capable.
Long ago he had perfected his ability to cut himself off from sentimental emotion. But with Juliet it was impossible. Something about her called to him, beckoned him to embrace the moment. Even if he tried, he knew he could not keep her completely out; but more amazingly he knew that he did not want to shut himself entirely off from her.
“We need to select the tree so we can begin gathering the other greenery,” one of the aunts said. “How about this one?”
Since he was standing so close, Richard heard Juliet’s small sigh of dismay. The tree was scrawny and misshapen on one side. It was by far the worst choice—even he could see it.
“There is still plenty of daylight. I think we can spare a few more minutes searching,” Juliet answered. “Don’t you agree, Richard?”
“Ah, yes. It wouldn’t hurt to continue looking.”
Juliet gazed at him appreciatively with those dark, entrancing eyes, and he felt the full force of her gaze. An unexpected gurgle of laughter bubbled up from his chest and he let it out, surprising himself at the sudden burst of joy he felt in that moment.
Is this what family life might have been like if his young wife and child had survived? Would he have joined them in holiday outings, delighting in their laughter, joining it with his own? Was this affection and warmth, a closeness that grew not only from love, but from security and trust, what made a family whole?
Tis the Season to Be Sinful Page 15