A Christmas Kiss (10 page)

The brisk entrance of Miss Pennington into the breakfast room roused them both. Her expression was lively and purposeful, her morning dress of flowered muslin had an air of spring about it, and the lilt of her voice when she greeted them seemed to brighten the room. They jumped to their feet.

“Good morning, Miss Pennington. You're up and about early,” Jamie remarked.

“Please sit down. Don't disturb yourself on my account,” Evalyn urged. “I shall just help myself to some of this delicious-looking smoked fish and a cup of coffee and join you, if I may.”

Reggie held her chair for her, and Jamie poured her coffee. She looked from one to the other in gratitude. “How pleasant to be gallanted by two gentlemen at once,” she said.

Reggie rather ungallantly muttered, “Well, there ain't much elthe to do.” Then, recollecting himself, he quickly added, “Oh, I beg your pardon. I did not mean—”

Evalyn laughed. “I quite understand,” she assured him. “The weather is so dreadful, and you've been cheated of a day of sport.”

“Exactly so,” Jamie sighed. “And what we're to do with ourselves all morning we just don't know.”

“I should think two such intelligent and ingenious gentlemen as you are—and you certainly proved yourselves so in your handling of
my
problem—would have no trouble in inventing some amusements.”

“I doubt that we're as intelligent and ingenious as you think,” Jamie said ruefully. “We outdid ourselves with your problem.”

“Quite right,” Reggie agreed. “Our brainth are back to their accuthtomed lethargy.”

“You'll think of something, I'm sure,” Evalyn said and sipped her coffee unperturbed.

“You seem to have some purpose for the morning, don't you? What are you about, Miss Pennington?” Jamie asked.

“Nothing that would interest you, I'm afraid. I think that on a day like this, Mrs. Noakes will have her hands full amusing the twins. I intend to make myself useful to her.”

Jamie's face brightened. “I say, Reggie, would you like to come up and see the nursery? I remember I had quite a good collection of toy soldiers in all kinds of battle regalia, from the Normans to Marlborough.”

Reggie made a face. “How exhilarating,” he said drily.

“I know it doesn't sound very appealing to you, Lord Reginald, but only think how exciting it would be for the twins!” Evalyn suggested with a gleam in her eyes. “It would be the very thing for a rainy morning like this. Would you mind very much coming along with me? The boys would so enjoy seeing Mr. Everard's soldiers—they are the very things boys like.”

Reggie let himself be persuaded, and the trio made their way upstairs to the nursery. As they approached, they heard the sounds of a commotion and came to the door to find the twins on the floor, pommelling each other, with poor Mrs. Noakes standing over them wringing her hands and squeaking remonstrances in a quite ineffectual manner. Reg and Jamie rushed to the rescue, Reg lifting one of them and holding him in firm restraint while Jamie lifted the other and stood him on his feet.

“All right, young man,” Jamie said to the boy who, by the tears running down his face, made clear that he had been getting the worst of it, “what's amiss here?” And he wiped away the tears as unobtrusively as possible.

“Freddie kicked me,” the boy answered truculently.

“I did not!” shouted the other, twisting powerlessly in Reggie's grip.

“So your brother's name is Freddie,” Jamie said to his charge. “What's yours?”

“T-Ted—Theodore.”

“Oh, I thay!” Reggie said, exchanging amused looks with Jamie. “Freddie and Teddie!”

“That was Mama's idea, not ours!” said Freddie, still struggling to free himself of Reggie's grip.

“Be quiet!” Reggie said sternly. “A boy who kickth hith brother ith not worthy of lithening to.”

The boy twisted around and looked at Reggie with interest. “You said that wrong,” he accused. “You sound strange.”

Reggie nodded matter-of-factly. “It'th a lithp.”

The boy giggled. “What's a lithp?”

Jamie frowned at him. “A lisp. That means he doesn't pronounce the letter ‘s' But bigger men than you have learned not to make sport of this gentleman's way with words. There's nothing wrong with the way he uses his fists, you see.”

The boy's eyes grew round. “Oh, are you a boxer, sir?” he asked Reg with dawning respect.

Reggie grinned. “I've thtepped into the ring a few timeth,” he said.

“He has a punishing right, that I can tell you,” Jamie added, rubbing his jaw for emphasis.

“Can you show us how to box?” the twin called Teddy asked eagerly.

Evalyn, who had been standing with Mrs. Noakes and watching the proceedings with amused interest, felt it was time to step forward. “Not here, I'm afraid. But these two gentlemen have come upstairs purposely to show you some wonderful toy soldiers and to tell you about the battles their uniforms represent. Isn't that kind of them?”

“Tell them
what
?” Reggie asked with an air of a man who had been unwittingly trapped. He met Jamie's pleading look with a grimace, and then shrugged. “Oh, very well. Go ahead and find the thilly thingth. We haven't anything better to do.”

Lord Gyllford, when he chanced to look into the nursery an hour later, was startled to find a number of his guests gathered there. A table had been set up in the middle of the room, and lined up upon it were several dozen little painted toy soldiers. On the far side of the table, Reggie and Jamie were acting out the Battle of Crécy. On the near side sat Evalyn, Clarissa, Martha and Marianne, and the twins, watching the display in rapt fascination. And in her rocker, contentedly knitting, sat Mrs. Noakes. His lordship listened for a moment, smiling over the liberties his son and Reggie were taking with history, then tiptoed stealthily away.

By the time the Battle of Blenheim had been won, the clouds had lifted and the day had brightened considerably. After a late luncheon, Jamie reminded Reg of his promise to ride out in the curricle. Reggie demurred. “Three will be a crush,” he said.

“Rubbish. Marianne will take only a small space. I won't have you backing out now.”

Marianne, positively glowing at the thought of two escorts, was quite ready. Her pelisse was serviceable rather than becoming, but her bonnet, with its high poke and bright red bow captivatingly tied under her left ear, more than made up for it. Jamie helped her up and tucked a blanket around her legs, the two friends climbed up and took their places on either side of her, and they set off.

Their destination was the nearby town of Ashwater, about ten miles to the northwest. Jamie chatted happily about the points of interest along the way—the neat cottage belonging to the bailiff of the Gyllford estates, the home woods where, in season, the quail and pheasant were plentiful, and the notorious “hanging tree” where once, before Jamie was born, a highwayman had met his end—to which Marianne responded with her eager “Really?”

Reggie was silent except for a few negative comments on Jamie's way with the horses. “Took that turn a bit too fatht, didn't you?” or “Watch out for that rut! You'll dump uth in the ditch!”

Jamie blithely ignored the warnings until a wheel chanced to catch in a deep rut just as he was rounding a turn at a good clip. There was the sound of a crack, the curricle lurched wildly to the right and came to a sudden stop, the horses plunging and rearing frighteningly. One of the horses broke from the reins and galloped off into the underbrush and out of sight. Jamie jumped out of the carriage with a shout and ran to calm the remaining animal. Reggie glanced worriedly at Marianne, who sat stunned. “You're not hurt, are you?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“It ain't anything but a broken wheel, I expect. Don't worry.” Reg patted her hand awkwardly and climbed down gingerly from the lopsided vehicle. Hurrying to Jamie's side, he helped his friend get the horse under control.

Jamie looked at Reg shamefacedly. “It was the damned road. I hope you're not thinking that I let the horses get away from me, are you?” he asked belligerently.

“Of courthe not. Don't be a gudgeon.”

They walked to the side of the curricle and surveyed the damage. The wheel had broken from the axle and lay useless and crushed under the weight of the carriage. “Well, what now?” asked Reg.

“There's only one thing for it. I must get to the village and rent us another conveyance. This wheel will not be repaired in a day.”

“I'll go, Jamie. I can ride the horthe. You remain here with Marianne.”

“No, that won't work. The road has so many turnings and forks, you'd never find the way.”

Reggie stared at him in horror. “You're not thuggethting that
I
remain here with her!”

“Come now, Reg, don't be a saphead. It will only be for an hour or two.”

“An hour or two! It may ath well be a month! No, no, I couldn't.”

“But Reggie, you must!”

“No, wait,” Reggie said, thinking desperately for a way out. “Why don't you take her up on the horthe with you, and I'll walk alongthide?”

“That would slow me up too much. Besides, I'll have enough trouble riding without a saddle to worry about having anyone else up with me.”

But Reg was adamant. “Thorry, old man, but you'll have to think of thomething elthe. I told you that girlth, particularly young oneth, are not in my line. I wouldn't know what to thay to her for two minuteth, let alone two hourth.”

“Be reasonable, man! I must be the one to go, for I know the way and I am known at the stable in the village, so I won't have any trouble procuring a conveyance. Someone must stay here with Marianne. We cannot leave her alone, can we? Even
you
must see that!”

Though he cast about urgently in his mind for another solution to the problem, poor Reggie could find none. He glumly shrugged his acquiescence. Jamie grinned, clapped him on the shoulder, and hurried to face the shivering, frightened Marianne. With Reggie's help, they lifted her down from the tilted curricle and set her on the ground. Jamie expressed his regrets for the accident in the briefest terms possible. Then he unfastened the reins from the horse, jumped on its back, and galloped off down the road.

Reggie looked down at his charge with trepidation. “You are shivering, Mith Covington,” he said with concern. “Pleathe let me give you my coat.”

Marianne looked up at him gratefully, but shook her head. “Oh, no, Lord Farnham. I'm not c-cold. Only f-frightened.”

“No need to be frightened. No real harm done,” Reggie assured her. “Jamie will be back before you know it with a hired hack.”

There. That was the extent of his conversation. What else was he to say to her? He took a quick glance at her face. She was peeping at him from under the brim of her ridiculously grown-up bonnet with an air of expectation. Heaven help him, how was he to fill the two hours looming up formidably before him?

Nine

Philip looked up from his desk at the sound of a knock at his study door. “Come in,” he called.

Clarissa peeped in hesitantly. “May I come in?” she asked. “I don't want to disturb you.”

“What is this unwonted timidity?” Philip asked, cocking an amused eyebrow at her. “You've always come in without the slightest qualm.”

“That was before I realized what important work you do here, my dear. I'm much more respectful now that I realize you're an author.”

“And very proper, too. But now that you've demonstrated this admirable humility, you may stop being a peagoose and come in.”

Clarissa laughed and entered, closing the door carefully behind her. When she saw his desk, covered with closely written pages, her expression changed. “Oh, dear,” she said regretfully, “I
am
disturbing you. Perhaps I should wait until later to talk to you.”

“Nonsense. I am not writing another New Testament. The world can wait indefinitely for these words of mine. Come now, sit down and tell me what's on your mind.”

“Are you sure you don't mind?”

“Quite sure. I was about to clear my desk and join our guests anyway.”

“Oh, I'm so glad of that. That's what I've come to ask you to do. I find myself in a bit of an embarrassment.…”

“Embarrassment?”

“Yes, and it's your son's fault.”

“Jamie? What's he done?”

“He's gone off in the curricle with Marianne and Reggie and left poor Evalyn here to her own devices. Not that she's shown the least sign of being upset, but still—”

“Do you mean to say he's gone off without even asking her to join the party? Surely he couldn't have done that! He
must
have asked her. Perhaps she didn't want to go and told him she preferred to remain at home.”

“No, Philip, he didn't even ask her. She knew nothing about the expedition until Martha mentioned to me, in Evalyn's presence, that Marianne and Jamie had gone off together. Martha had a decided matchmaker's gleam in her eye. I think she's beginning to believe that Jamie and her Marianne may make a match of it.”

“Oh, my Lord!” Philip exclaimed in disgust.

“Just so,” his sister sighed. “Knowing that Evalyn had overheard all this had me ready to
sink
!”

“I could wring Jamie's neck.”

“So could I. Except, of course, that Evalyn was not in the least discomposed. She's been helping me weave the Christmas wreaths, and there she sat working as calmly as you please, as if it were the most natural thing in the world for one's betrothed to go off with another girl.”

Philip got up and paced about, musing. “I've noticed this strange behavior myself. Jamie neglects Miss Pennington shamefully. But I've never seen her look in the least constrained. Do you think it's something they've decided between them?”