A Christmas Affair (19 page)

Amanda, who had been politely listening to the sermon the vicar intended reading at the Christmas Eve service, had barely had time to rise to her feet before Amelia threw herself into her arms, sobbing as if her heart would break.

“Darling, what is it?” she asked, her arms closing protectively about the younger girl. “What about Charles? Has something happened?” Only one possibility occurred to her, and it was too dreadful to even contemplate. “He’s not dead, is he?”

“No!” Amelia shook her head wildly. “He’s here, in Godstone, and he — oh, Amanda!” She began sobbing anew.

Amanda understood at once, and her heart went out to
her sister. Poor Amelia, she thought, lovingly stroking her thick blond curls. How dreadful it must have been to be confronted by the man you loved while betrothed to another. She was searching for the right words to comfort her when Justin walked into the study, his expression growing even grimmer at the sight of his fiancée in Amanda’s arms.

“Is she all right?” he asked, moving to stand beside them. “She encountered your old neighbor in the street, and I fear the rascal upset her.”

“Charles isn’t a rascal,” Amanda protested, shooting him an annoyed scowl. “He’s —”

“Please, Amanda,” Amelia interrupted, raising her tear-stained face from Amanda’s shoulder and sending her an imploring look. “Just take me home. I — I have the headache!”

“But —” Amanda began, and then abandoned the effort. It was obvious Amelia was genuinely distraught, and in light of the promise she had made earlier, what was there left she could say? Suppressing a weary sigh, she turned to the vicar, who was regarding them with his usual look of vague inquiry.

“My apologies, Reverend Smythe, but I believe it would be best if we left now,” she said with an apologetic smile. “Amelia is prone to headaches, you know, and I must get her home.”

“Of course, of course.” The elderly man bobbed his head in understanding. “Poor wee thing. Doubtlessly seeing young Maxfield was an unpleasant reminder of her dear brother.”

“Yes” — Amanda grabbed on to the explanation as if it were a lifeline — “that is precisely it. Daniel and Charles were the best of friends, and even spoke of enlisting together. It must have been a great shock seeing him again. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I want to get Amelia settled in the coach. Come dearest,” and she guided the still-sobbing girl
from the room.

Justin only paused long enough to thank the vicar for his help and accept his blessing, and then he was hurrying after the others. He climbed in beside them, glancing around in surprise when he noticed the younger members of the family were nowhere to be seen.

“Where are Belinda and the boys?” he asked, settling his shoulders against the plush, golden velvet squabs. “Surely you’re not leaving them behind?”

“No, tempting as though that thought might be,” Amanda said, pausing in her ministrations long enough to cast him a reassuring smile. “There was a skating party on the village pond, and the squire’s wife promised to see them safely home.”

“I see,” he said, a slight frown puckering his brow as he glanced out at the threatening skies. He thought the weather too uncertain for such frivolity, but at the moment he was more concerned with Amelia.

She had finally stopped crying and was curled into the corner of the coach, a plaid blanket tucked warmly about her. Her eyes were closed, and her blond head was once again resting on Amanda’s shoulders. Quizzing her was clearly out of the question, at least for the moment, although he had no intention of letting the matter drop. There was clearly something going on here, and all of his instincts told him Amanda probably knew what it was. His instincts also told him that she would doubtlessly die sooner than tell him what it was.

“How did your shopping go?” Amanda asked as the carriage slowly made its way home. “I didn’t notice you had any packages with you.”

“I am having them delivered,” Justin replied, accepting the conversational gambit for what it was . . . a diversionary tactic. “You’ll be happy to know I didn’t buy Stephen any dangerous chemical sets, although I did find a book on
ballooning I thought he might find interesting.”

“Yes, it is a hobby of his,” she agreed, relieved to see that he was going to be pleasant about things. Given the state of her nerves, she didn’t think she was up to spinning tales.

“We’ll have to take care that the twins don’t get their hands on it,” he continued, folding his arms across his chest and watching her through half-closed eyes. “Else I shudder to think of what they might do.”

“It doesn’t bear thinking of,” she agreed once again, her lips curving in a gentle smile. “They would probably try launching one of their own, and heaven only knows where they might land.”

“Have they always been so . . . exuberant?” He chose the word with delicate care.

“So incorrigible, do you mean?” She wasn’t taken in by his attempts at diplomacy. “Always. Jeremey is the main instigator, although Joss is usually not far behind. And they are utterly fearless. When they were less than six they disappeared over night, and searchers found them in the woods. They were looking for Indians.”

“That would have been about the time your mother and stepfather died, wouldn’t it?”

She glanced up at him. “About then, yes,” she said, amazed that he had remembered the details of her parents’ deaths. “The accident happened in April, and this happened that summer. Did Daniel tell you about it?”

Justin hesitated, wondering if he should tell her the truth, that he had only met her brother the night before his death. He knew she and the others assumed he and Daniel had been bosom beaus, and he’d never bothered correcting that impression. At first he’d been too ill, and later he’d decided it was more prudent to remain silent. His demand to assume responsibility for the family was based on his obligation to Daniel, and if they were to learn how shaky that claim was . . . he refused to consider what Amanda’s reac
tion would be.

“He mentioned it,” he said, keeping his answer deliberately vague. “He also mentioned your stepfather gamed. Is that why you’re in such financial difficulty?”

Amanda glared at him, resenting his sharpness. “Partially,” she agreed coolly, “although I will thank you not to mention it to the others. They have few enough memories of their father as it is, and I wouldn’t want those memories tainted.”

“You’re a very good sister,” he said suddenly, tilting his head to one side as he continued studying her. “Have you always taken care of them?”

“Always,” she admitted, her dark brown eyes taking on a soft glow. “Mother was never very strong, and the care of the children just naturally fell to me. One of my first memories is of holding Daniel and trying to get him to drink milk from a cup. I couldn’t have been more than three or four.” She shook her head at the memory and then fixed him with an interested look.

“What of you? I know you have an older brother, Edward, but have you any other brothers? Or any sisters?”

The light that had been warming Justin’s golden eyes faded completely, leaving them flat and cold. “No,” he said, his voice unconsciously hard. “There was just Edward, the heir, and me, the second son.”

“I see,” she said, detecting the bitterness in his voice. She’d noticed it once or twice before on those rare occasions when he spoke of his past. In fact, she realized with something akin to shock, he seldom mentioned anything of a personal nature. Outside of knowing that he was an officer and a lord, she knew almost nothing of him, and she was suddenly anxious to rectify that lack of knowledge. If he was to be her brother-in-law, then it behooved her to learn as much about him as she could.

“What sort of older brother was Edward,” she asked, set
tling into a more comfortable position. “Was he a perfect monster to you at times? Or did he treat you with pompous superiority, the way Daniel occasionally treated the twins?”

The question caught Justin unawares. “Edward was very good to me,” he blurted out in surprise. “He always remembered my birthday, and he came to visit me at school at least once each term.”

“Then, he’s a great deal older than you?”

“No, less than ten years actually.” He frowned at her question. “Why?”

“I’m not sure,” Amanda admitted candidly. “It is just that I realize how very little we know of you, and I was curious. You seldom speak of yourself, you know,” and she gave him a look that was frankly speculative.

Her scrutiny made Justin uncomfortable, and he shifted on the padded seat. “There is nothing to say,” he muttered, wishing she would change the conversation. “My life is not unlike other men of my rank and station.”

“Yes, but as you are the first man of your station I have ever met, I fear I am woefully ignorant on the subject,” she replied, hoping to cajole him into a better humor. “You are as exotic to me as a Bedouin chief, and I am consumed with curiosity.”

A reluctant smile relaxed his mouth. “What is it you want to know?” he asked.

“Everything,” she replied eagerly, clasping her hands together as she leaned forward. “I know you went to Eton; were you a good student?”

“Am I to take it from the avid gleam in your eyes that you are hoping to hear I barely squeaked my way through?” he teased, temporarily forgetting about Maxfield and Amelia. “Well, I hate to disappoint you, ma’am, but the truth of the matter is I was a superlative student, both at Eton and later on at Oxford. In fact, had it not been decided that I would go into the army, I might have gone on to be a don. I’ve
always been fascinated with Shakespeare.”

She puzzled over his answer. “What do you mean had it not been decided,’” she asked. “Didn’t you want to go into the army?”

“That is the family tradition,” Justin replied stonily, some of his goodwill vanishing as memories washed over him.“ The second son always goes into the army. It is the way it has always been done.”

“But is it what you wanted?” Amanda pressed, scooting closer until her knee was brushing his. She felt as if she was close to finally understanding the man behind the haughty air and clipped commands, and she wasn’t about to back away now.

“It was my duty,” he answered, feeling cornered and disliking the sensation. “I was born knowing Stonebridge would never be mine, and that all that was expected of me was that I stay out of trouble, marry well if at all possible, and die bravely when my country required it of me!”

Amanda sat back, stunned by his blunt reply and the bitterness she saw burning in his eyes. “You can’t believe that,” she managed at last. “That’s dreadful!”

“It is the way it is,” he told her coldly, “and yes, I believe it — every word of it. My father devoted the last few years of his life making certain I understood that reality in no uncertain terms. He had the heir he craved, and I was no more to him than an afterthought, a disappointing after- thought at that.”

“But surely your mother would never have allowed such a thing—”

“My mother died when I was barely old enough to remember her,” he said harshly, the long-forgotten pain welling up inside him. “Not that it would have changed things even if she had lived. I told you, it is the way things are done in my class.”

“And you intend to raise your children the same way?”
Amanda demanded incredulously. “That is ridiculous!”

Justin jerked his head back as if she had struck him. Until now, he’d never given the idea of children more than a passing thought. To be sure the possibility of heirs was one of his main reasons for marrying, especially as Edward had made it obvious he had no intention whatsoever of taking a bride. And he had told Amelia he wanted children of his own, he remembered, flicking the peacefully sleeping girl a somewhat stunned look. But until this very moment, he’d never even considered how they would be raised.

Did he want one of his sons to be reared as he’d been? To feel useless and redundant because he’d had the misfortune to be born second rather than first? Did he really want his son to lie awake at night in some damned boarding school crying for a home that would never truly be his?

“No, by God, I do not!” he thundered, his jaw flexing with suppressed fury. “I’ll never raise a child of mine that way!”

Amelia jerked at the sound of his voice, her eyes fluttering open as she glanced around her. “Are we home yet?” she asked, rubbing fretfully at her head. “I am so tired!”

“Soon, love,” Amanda soothed, reaching out a hand to brush a damp strand of hair back from her sister’s flushed cheeks. She’d been so engrossed in her conversation with Justin that she had completely forgotten about Amelia, an oversight that left her badly shaken.

She’d begun quizzing Justin more out of a desire to distract him from the subject of Charles than anything, although the more he spoke, the more interested she became in his answers. He was an enigma, she mused, murmuring soft reassurances to the exhausted girl. He could be so cold and haughty one moment, and then gentle and teasing the next. Much of his commanding ways she put down to his military training; now she wondered how much was due to the burdens of command and how much was due to his sterile childhood.

No wonder he knew nothing about Christmas, she thought, her sense of shame over this morning’s row increasing. He’d probably spent his holidays alone at school, or isolated in a country house with a cold and distant father who barely tolerated his existence. He’d even admitted he hadn’t much experience buying presents, and she had all but thrown those presents back in his face.

Well, that would have to change, she decided, noting they had arrived at the house. Christmas Eve was in two days time, and between now and then, she would work doubly hard to get along with Justin. Not only would she accept the presents he had bought the children, but she would actively encourage him to join in the family festivities. Perhaps she’d even enlist his help in putting up the
tannenbaum
and in putting on the pageant that had been part of Lawrence Hall tradition since her great-grandfather’s day. She’d been considering dropping the tradition this year in light of Daniel’s death, but now she would go ahead with it as planned.

Justin was much taller than either Daniel or her stepfather, although she was sure her father’s costume would fit him, and with any luck the red beard he’d worn as Henry the Eighth hadn’t been totally consumed by mice . . . or worse. Yes, she thought, her excitement growing as plans began taking shape in her head, she would do it. In between the
tannenbaum,
the pageant, and the little surprise she and Mrs. Hatcher had arranged for Christmas morning, this would be the best Christmas Justin had ever known. And if it wasn’t — her smile grew wide — if it wasn’t, she would eat old Henry’s moth-eaten beard!