A Christmas Affair (9 page)

“Of course he will be attending!” Jeremey said, his voice full of derision as he stuffed another macaroon into his mouth. “I just
told
you as much, didn’t I? Females!” He shook his head in obvious disgust.

Amanda opened her mouth to remind the brat to mind his manners when Justin said, “A gentleman, Jeremey, never corrects a lady, especially when there are others present. A courtesy, I regret to say, that is not always returned” and he shot Amanda a meaningful look.

Amanda took his meaning at once, and it was all she could do to hold her tongue. The insufferable prig, she fumed, taking a hasty sip of her tea. He was actually scolding her for rebuking Stephen! That he was perhaps right occurred to her, but she quickly discarded the notion. Stephen was her brother, after all, and it was her place to see that he behaved in a fitting manner. Well, she decided, her eyes flashing with resolve, it was time she reminded her arrogant guest just who was mistress here!

“Ah, but given the male propensity for misbehavior, how can we poor ladies resist?” she retorted, her smile falsely sweet as she set down her teacup with an angry rattle. “We are the natural custodians of society, are we not, and it is our duty to see that you men behave in a civilized manner.”

Justin’s eyebrows rose at her reply. “An interesting hypothesis, Miss Lawrence,” he drawled in a dampening
tone, “but not one, I fear, that will prove out. Men make history, and history makes society.”

“Men make wars,” Amanda replied, meeting Justin’s gaze defiantly. “And ’tis left to the women to tend the wounded and bury the dead!”

There was an uncomfortable silence, during which Amanda could have cheerfully bitten off her own tongue. Fortunately Justin recovered faster and turned an inquiring look upon Amelia.

“But where is your good aunt?” he asked, pretending as if nothing was amiss. “Is she in her rooms?”

Amelia gave a guilty start, her creamy cheeks suffusing with color as she cast Amanda a beseeching look.

“She is not here,” Amanda answered, her tone every bit as cool as Justin’s. “She has returned to London to attend to some pressing business.”

“More pressing than her nephew’s memorial service?” he asked, wondering if this curst family ever did what was proper.

“Aunt has never been one for ceremony,” Amanda replied with an indifferent shrug. “Besides, Daniel would understand.” As he would, she thought with a sudden flash of whimsey. Daniel had disliked the old shrew almost as much as she did.

“I see.” He didn’t, of course, but there was no way he was going to debate the matter with the little she-devil. Justin sought refuge in the plate of food Amelia had pressed upon him, listening half-attentively as the family resumed its conversation.

“I was hoping Charles might be home for the service.” Amelia sighed, the corners of her lips drooping unhappily. “But his mama says she does not know how to reach him.”

“Never mind, my dear,” Amanda said, reaching out to give the younger girl’s hand a sympathetic pat. “You will be seeing him in less than a fortnight; you have only to
be brave until then.”

Justin wondered idly who Charles might be and then dismissed the subject from his mind as he glanced at Stephen. “How are things at Exter?” he asked, polishing off the last of the cakes Amelia had given him. “What are you studying this term?”

“Advanced mathematics and Latin, sir,” Stephen replied, grateful for the colonel’s attention. “I hope to study medicine.”

“An admirable choice,” Justin approved. “You must take care that you not fall behind in your studies. Will you be returning to classes after the holidays, or will you be sitting out the rest of the term?”

“This is a topic that is perhaps better left for another time,” Amanda said quickly, determined not to display their impoverished state before their haughty guest. “In the meanwhile, sir, perhaps you might tell me if there are any particular customs you would like to observe for the holidays? I am not sure how things are done in Kent, but we in Surrey do like to celebrate our Lord’s birth.”

Justin stared at her in amazement. It had been so many years since he had truly celebrated the holiday — any holiday—that he was not sure how to answer. He cast about in his mind for some happy memory associated with Christmas, but there were none. Just a few vague images of the yule log burning in Stonebridge Hall’s massive fireplace, and a flaming plum pudding one of their cooks had once served. His taciturn father had never been one to engage in such fustain, he recalled bitterly.

“Except for the few years I spent at Oxford, I can not say that I ever participated in any particular ceremony, Miss Lawrence,” he answered coolly. “But to the best of my knowledge, we in Kent celebrate the same as folk everywhere. I am sure whatever you arrange will be more than satisfactory.”

“Cakes,” Belinda announced, speaking for the first time since Justin had entered the room. “Cakes, and candies, and some tarts. Do you like tarts?” She bent a suspicious frown on him.

“I adore tarts,” he assured her gravely, although his eyes began to twinkle with laughter. “Do you think you might share some of yours with me?”

Belinda cocked her head to one side and regarded him with solemn blue eyes. “Mandy says I am s’posed to share,” she told him in a chiding manner that was reminiscent of her older sister. “And Nanny says it is more blessed to give than to receive, so I s’pose I could give you
one
tart.”

“Thank you, ma’am,” Justin replied, his entire face lighting with a warm smile of amusement. “That is rare kind of you.”

“You are welcome.” Belinda inclined her head gracefully, feeling vastly pleased with herself. “You can even play with Phillipa if you want to,” she offered in a rare spurt of generosity. “She is my bestest doll, but if you promise to be very careful, you can hold her.”

The image of the colonel playing with one of their pesky sister’s dolls set the twins to laughing. They were careful not to sneer at her in their idol’s presence, however, a marked change in their usual behavior that had Amanda frowning in dismay. Much as she welcomed their new-found restraint, she could not help but feel slightly put out that it had been occasioned by Justin’s interference.

The rest of the hour passed in relative harmony as both Amanda and Justin were too busy talking with the others to engage in any further disagreements. They were just finishing their tea when Linsley stepped in to announce Mr. Stranton had arrived and wished to speak with Amanda.

“Alone, miss” he added, his graying eyebrows arching in disapproval. “I have placed him in your study.”

“Thank you, Linsley,” she replied, setting her napkin to one side and shaking out the crumbs from her skirt as she rose to her feet. “Pray tell him I will be with him momentarily.”

After the butler had withdrawn, she turned to the others and began issuing orders. “Stephen, I want you and the boys to show Colonel Stockton about the house. Amelia, dearest, do you think you might watch Belinda? Nanny has been pressed into service in the kitchens and will not be available for the rest of the day.”

“Of course, Amanda,” Amelia answered sweetly, giving the younger girl’s blond hair an affectionate tug. “It will be my pleasure. We shall play dolls, Belinda; how does that sound?”

“Ugh!” Joss’s nose wrinkled in masculine disgust; “
We
are going to show the colonel Daniel’s room, and then he is going to tell us some fine war stories . . . aren’t you, sir?” Pleading blue eyes were raised to his face.

Justin was no proof against such shameless wheedling and gave a low chuckle. “I suppose I might be persuaded to bore you all with a few tales,” he murmured, casting Amanda a challenging look. “Provided, of course, that your sister has no objections?”

The very possibility set up such a hue and a cry among her brothers that it was several moments before Amanda was able to make herself heard. “Naturally I have no objections, sir” she said with a strained smile, silently cursing him for the adroit way he had made her the villainess of the piece. “I only hope that the boys won’t tire you out.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive,” he replied, acknowledging her unspoken anger with a half-smile. “We soldiers are tough as old boots, you know.”

There seemed to be no polite way to answer this, so Amanda excused herself, departing from the parlor before she said something she knew she would later regret. And to think, she brooded unhappily, that she had an entire fortnight of his company to endure. She would have to guard her tongue if she hoped to survive without the two of them coming to blows. Fortunately for him, she was blessed with a strong nature and didn’t doubt her ability to control both her temper and her obstreperous guest.

Mr. Stranton was nervously pacing the study when she arrived, and at the sight of her, his lined face broke out in a relieved smile. “Ah, Miss Lawrence,” he said, hurrying forward to take her hand in his, “it was good of you to see me on such short notice. I trust I haven’t caught you at an inconvenient time?”

“Not at all, Mr. Stranton,” she replied, inclining her head graciously and indicating the chair behind him. “But will you not be seated and tell me what has brought you so far from the village and on such a snowy day?”

“Well, naturally I wished to offer you my condolences on your good brother’s death,” he began, smoothing out the creases in his black kerseymere trousers. “Such a tragic loss. My wife and I extend our most heart-felt sympathies to you and your family, and we want you to know that you are ever in our prayers.”

“Thank you, sir,” Amanda replied, her brown eyes frankly speculative as she studied the agitated solicitor. “But surely you didn’t travel three miles in this weather to tell me that. What else is there you are not telling me?”

The elderly man swallowed audibly, his watery eyes darting away from her face. “How very clever you are, my dear,” he said with a nervous laugh. “As I was telling my wife only this morning, that Miss Lawrence is too sharp
by half! One would have to keep all one’s wits about him if he hoped to —”

“Mr. Stranton, you will forgive me for being so blunt, but would you kindly get to the point?” Amanda interrupted, rubbing a hand across her temples. “You have obviously come out here to tell me something, so please do so.” She gave him a knowing look. “Has this anything to do with my aunt?”

The guilty expression on the older man’s face was all the confirmation she needed, and Amanda’s sigh was decidedly weary as she said, “Does she wish to claim the house sooner than January?”

“She — she did mention taking immediate possession,” he replied, relieved that she seemed so calm. “But I was able to convince her ’twould be better to wait until after the New Year. She seemed somewhat . . . er . . . upset.”

“I daresay she was,” Amanda muttered, remembering the oaths her aunt had shrieked at her as her carriage rolled away. “My aunt and I have never gotten along, and this matter of her inheriting our home has only made matters worse. She offered to allow me to stay, on but I found her conditions completely unacceptable.”

“Do you think that advisable?” Mr. Stranton’s expression grew grave. “As I have already told you, your financial position is far from strong. If Mrs. Herrick is willing to give you shelter—”

“Mrs. Herrick was willing to keep me as her unpaid lackey,” Amanda interrupted, her full lips thinning in remembered anger, “nothing more. She made it quite clear what my position would be, and when she let it be known that there was no room for the others, I asked her to leave. As I told her, sir, we are a family, and so we shall remain. We’ll rub along together somehow. Now, was there anything else you wished to discuss with me?”

“Nothing that can not wait until after the holidays,” the
solicitor answered, suddenly eager to be gone. He had only come out to warn her of her aunt’s intentions, but as she was already aware of the situation, he felt free to leave. “With your permission, I believe I shall be leaving now,” he said, rising to his feet. “The snow is deepening, and I really should be on my way. In the meanwhile, should you have need of anything, you have only to send a note to my home, and I shall come out straightaway.”

After escorting her visitor to the door, Amanda returned to her study to brood. The solicitor’s visit had driven home the grim reality of their future, and she wondered yet again what would come of them. She settled behind her desk and was going over her budget when there was a knock on the door.

“Come in,” she called, hastily covering the column of figures she’d been adding. To her surprise Colonel Stockton stood there, his expression grave as he closed the door and advanced towards her.

“Is there anything amiss, Miss Lawrence?” he asked, easing his tall form onto the faded chair facing her desk. “Stephen just informed me that your caller was your solicitor. Is there some problem with Daniel’s will?”

“Of course not,” Amanda replied swiftly, deciding that she wasn’t really lying: The problem lay with her grandfather’s will. “Mr. Stranton merely wished to offer me his condolences.”

Justin’s eyes flicked toward the mullioned windows. “His sense of duty is to be commended,” he drawled, his brows lifting at the sight of the thick white snowflakes swirling in the icy wind. “But surely he could have waited until after the service tomorrow to pay his respects.”

“He has known Daniel all his life.” Amanda defended Mr. Stranton’s actions with a challenging lift of her chin. The thought of the colonel learning of their plight was simply too humiliating to bear, and she resolved to keep
the truth from him at all cost.

Justin said nothing, although he knew the chit was lying between her pretty teeth. If his years of command had taught him anything, it was to know when someone was being less than honest with him. For some reason she wished to keep the purpose behind the solicitor’s visit a secret, and he could not help but wonder what those reasons might be.

“Speaking of tomorrow” he began, deciding it might be wiser to abandon the subject for the moment, “I wanted to ask your advice on something.”

“And what might that be?” Amanda didn’t trust his air of indifference for a moment. Granted, she did not know the man well, but instinct told her he wasn’t the type to give in quite so easily.