To Wed A Viscount (25 page)

If questioned, Faith knew she would reply that she was content. She had learned to bend and compromise without breaking, had learned to pick and choose the battles that mattered most, had come to understand that there would be highs and lows in her marriage.

The physical desire she felt for her husband still left her breathless. At times it took only a look, or the sound of his deep voice to set her body aflame. And while she was pleased and flattered that Griffin spent his nights in her bed, Faith wanted more from her marriage than physical gratification.

Yet deep in her heart she almost dared not to hope for it, fearing it would jeopardize what she had achieved.

With the passing of autumn came the days of Christmas, a holiday Faith had always enjoyed. This year it was especially joyous thanks to Georgie's presence in the household. He was enchanted by everything—the evergreen boughs draped over many of the fireplace mantels in the house, the colorful bows and ribbons, and the profusion of red-berry holly and mistletoe that lent a cheery ambience to the rooms of the manor, and the delicious smells of holiday treats wafting up from the kitchen.

On Christmas Day he even managed to sit still during the entire church service, but was too excited to do justice to the sumptuous feast of roasted goose, salmon, rabbit, turnips, parsnips, carrots, mincemeat pies, gingerbread, and candied fruits. The gaily wrapped parcels piled high on the drawing room credenza were far more enticing to a young boy than his favorite kidney pie and custard.

At long last it was time to open the gifts. Gathered around a blazing Yule log in the drawing room, the family sipped mulled wine, exchanged small tokens, and wished each other well.

Georgie had the most impressive pile of presents, as was fitting for the youngest member of the household. He exclaimed with such earnest delight as he opened each parcel that each was his favorite gift, that the adults were soon laughing before he had even unwrapped his present.

Faith was pleased with the lovely embroidered handkerchief from Elizabeth but was nearly speechless over the cashmere shawl that Harriet gave her. The true shocker of the day came when she opened the small, thin, flat box from her husband.

“Oh, Griffin, you should not have wasted the funds on this extravagant present for me,” Faith protested as she lifted the stunning necklace from the satin-cushioned lining. The diamond and gold necklace sparkled gaily in the firelight.

“I suppose that is one of the hazards of letting your wife look at your account books,” Griffin said with a mocking smile.

He took the necklace from Faith's trembling fingers and clasped it around her neck.

“It looks beautiful,” Elizabeth said sincerely.

“Very pretty,” Harriet seconded.

“Goodness.” Faith touched her throat. The elegant necklace felt cool and smooth against her fingers. “I hardly know what to say.”

The viscount leaned close so that only Faith could hear. “I wanted you to have something special, something memorable to mark the occasion. This is, after all, our first Christmas together as man and wife.”

Faith's eyes filled with emotion. She glanced away, not wanting anyone to see the tears trickle down her cheek.

“Look! It's snowing!”

Georgie's boyish cries of excitement commanded everyone's immediate attention. They all rushed to the windows and crowded around to look outside.

“The ground is completely white,” Harriet observed. “It must have been falling for some time.”

“I want to go outside and touch it,” Georgie exclaimed.

“Splendid idea,” Griffin said. “ 'Tis not yet dark. If we hurry, we can manage a sleigh ride. Is anyone interested?”

There was a deafening chorus of yeas. Everyone quickly scrambled into hats and coats and gloves and fought good-naturedly over who would get to ride first.

Georgie and Faith won that argument. They snuggled together under the thick fur lap robe while Griffin deftly drove the sleigh over the thin layer of snow that had fallen. Then they waved gaily to Harriet and Elizabeth as the women took a turn in the sleigh and watched it disappear across the meadow, the viscount once again in command of the reins.

It was serenely silent in the deserted meadow. Faith and Georgie immediately set to work trying to construct a statue made of snow. Suddenly, a strange cawing sound broke the quiet.

“What was that?” Georgie inquired.

Faith cocked her head and listened intently. “It sounds like birds. Rather noisy ones.”

“Can we find them?” Georgie asked excitedly, dropping the large ball of snow he was packing. “Then we can bring them bread for their Christmas dinner.”

“I suppose we could look for their nest.” Faith brushed the snow off her gloves and reached for Georgie's hand. “But you must be very quiet while we search for the birds, or else they will be frightened and fly off.”

Hand in hand they followed the noise, through a small clump of bushes, then to the end of the low hedges that surrounded the meadow. Faith's eyes scanned the bare branches, yet she saw nothing perched in the trees.

They stood side by side in the snow and listened, their warm breath clouding the cold air.

“I heard it again,” Georgie exclaimed. “This way.”

He let go of Faith's hand and raced forward.

“Wait for me,” she cried, charging after him. Georgie rounded the hedge and disappeared from view. Faith quickened her gait, but it was hard to run in the ankle-deep snow wearing her thick, heavy boots.

Panting from exertion and fear, Faith finally turned past the hedge. With a gasp of pure relief she spotted Georgie. He was standing very quiet and still, staring down into a clump of low evergreens. Faith hurried to his side.

“They aren't birds, Faith.”

She glanced down to where the child was pointing and saw a tangle of gray, white, and black fur. “Kittens,” she declared in surprise.

Georgie's head turned sharply. “Really?”

He reached down eagerly, but Faith stopped him. “Let me do it.” Gently she separated the ball of fur and discovered three very young, very noisy animals.

“Why are they making so much noise?” Georgie asked.

“They must be hungry,” Faith decided. She alternatively stroked the fur of the two kittens she held while Georgie struggled to keep the adventurous feline in his arms under control.

“I don't think the kittens like the snow,” Georgie decided. “We should bring them home. They could sleep in a box near my bed. It is warm in my room.”

“Oh, no, we cannot move them. The mother cat will no doubt come back to care for her babies. She would be very sad if they were not here.”

Georgie lowered his head dejectedly while Faith scanned the area for signs of a mother cat. It was unusual for a female to abandon such young offspring.

Faith was trying to think of the best way to persuade Georgie to leave when Griffin, Harriet, and Elizabeth arrived. The women immediately began cooing over the tiny creatures.

“Aunt Harriet can have the gray one and Faith can have the white one and I can have the black one,” Georgie decided generously. He turned a winning smile toward his father. “Okay?”

“I tried to explain that we should not move them,” Faith said weakly. The kitten in her arms had buried its head in her neck and was purring softly.

“But we can hardly leave them out here,” Elizabeth protested. “They will freeze.”

A debate ensued over the correct and proper course of action. Griffin announced that he would take one of the kittens to Higgins, the stablemaster, who had superior knowledge of all types of animals and ask his advice.

Faith reluctantly handed over her kitten. The viscount placed the animal in the sleigh and drove off, but he returned quickly.

“Higgins found the mother cat yesterday afternoon in the stable loft,” Griffin whispered to Faith. “She must have been in a fight with another animal.”

“That explains why she has not returned.” Faith lifted the kitten from her husband's large hands and cradled it in her arms. “Is she badly hurt?”

“I'm afraid she is dead.”

“Oh, no,” Faith moaned. “What will happen to these poor creatures?”

“Higgins thinks it would be best to drown them.”

“Oh, my!” Faith pulled the kitten closer to her breast. “What a beastly thing to suggest.”

Griffin shrugged. “He thought only to prevent a prolonged suffering. They are too young to survive without a mother.”

“But surely we must try to save them,” Faith protested.

“I'm inclined to agree with Higgins,” Griffin replied. “They will most likely die anyway.”

“ 'Tis Christmas Day,” Faith said softly. “Could we not at least try?”

Faith knew she was asking the impossible, but it suddenly seemed very important that she try to save these helpless creatures. A very reluctant Griffin agreed to bring the orphaned animals home. It was difficult to get Georgie to bed that night and even more difficult to persuade him that the kittens would be safe and warm in the box Higgins made for them in the stable.

Faith slept fitfully that night, arising just after dawn. As was his custom, Griffin was already gone from her bed. She dressed quickly, without the help of her maid, tossed a warm cloak over her shoulders, and headed for the stable.

When she walked to the warm corner where the kittens were kept, she discovered her husband standing over the box with a grim expression.

Worry splintered through her. “What has happened?”

“The black kitten died during the night.”

“Oh, Griffin,” Faith's eyes filled with tears. She rushed forward and gazed at the limp body in the viscount's hand. “The poor little thing.”

“I warned you, Faith.” A muscle tightened in his cheek. “They were so young. Too young to survive without a mother to care for them.”

“I know,” Faith sniffed. “I couldn't bear the thought of letting them die, but this is far worse. Georgie's heart will be broken. And what of the remaining two kittens? I fear they will suffer the same fate.”

“Most likely.” The viscount's mouth went thin. “The black was the largest and strongest of the bunch. I cannot imagine how his siblings will survive when he could not.”

“Can Higgins offer no advice?”

Griffin grumbled something beneath his breath. “He thinks I am crazy for not allowing him to act upon his original solution.”

Faith bent her head. The two remaining animals were cuddled together in a tight little ball. They seemed so pathetic and helpless. “What are we going to do?”

Griffin did not reply. Instead he stood staring down at the box for several long moments. Then he turned, plucked a clean cloth from the rag bin in the corner, and gently wound it around the body of the dead kitten.

The click of his boot heels on the hard floor told Faith he was leaving. “Where are you going?” she called out.

“On a fool's errand,” he replied as he stalked from the stable.

Faith's shoulder's slumped. She gazed dejectedly out of the grimy window and noticed a light drizzle of sleet had begun to fall. With a heavy sigh she settled herself beside the box and waited for Georgie to arrive.

It was cool in the stable, but Faith was warmly wrapped in her cloak. Her eyes drifted shut and she dozed fitfully, coming abruptly awake at the sound of a door opening. She glanced up, bracing herself to break the unhappy news to Georgie. But it was Griffin who stood in the doorway.

“How are they?” he asked.

“About the same,” Faith replied. The edge of concern in his voice made her feel even worse. Thanks to her intervention the entire family was now going to witness these poor creatures' demise. Faith felt profoundly sad and guilty all in the same breath.

“Well, maybe this will help.” The viscount reached under his cloak and lifted out a fat tabby.

“What is that?”

“A new mother for the kittens.”

Faith scrambled to her feet. The big cat stretched out its front paws languidly. She seemed none the worse for wear after her travels beneath the viscount's coat. “Where did you find her?”

“On Squire Jordan's estate. I told Higgins to ask the tenants and neighbors if anyone had a cat who had recently had kittens. Did you have any idea how many cats there are in this area? There were several new mothers, but this poor feline lost most of her babies. Only one kitten survived. Hopefully she will consider adopting our two.”

“But what happened to the kitten from her litter?”

Griffin smiled and reached into his pocket, producing an indignant meowing ball of fur.

“It's black!”

His smile broadened. “Mostly. There are white markings on the paws and chest, but hopefully we can convince Georgie that he failed to notice that yesterday. Then he need never know what dire fate befell the other black one.”

“ 'Tis a miracle,” Faith whispered in awe.

“Perhaps. However, we have not achieved success yet, my dear. Higgins warned me that a mother cat won't always accept a stray. We have yet to see what this tabby thinks of our hungry orphans.”

Gingerly the viscount placed the large cat in the box. The two orphans had awakened and were meowing noisily. Yet the moment the larger cat came close they became silent. She circled them warily, nudged them each with her nose, and then began to lick their faces.

“I believe we have found a solution,” Griffin said with quiet pride.

“In the nick of time,” Faith whispered. “Here is Georgie.”

The little boy raced into the stable, heading straight for the box. His eyes widened in surprise when he saw the new occupant.