Chapter Five

Christmas Day

Jane woke before dawn as she always did on Christmas. When she glanced out the window the fog of the night before lingered in the yard and grounds, leaving the house surrounded by a milk-white sea where hillocks and trees were islands peeking through the surface. Then Stephen emerged from the whiteness and strode toward the house. He no longer wore his dark green uniform, but a black suit that hung on him in places but fit tightly across the shoulders, emphasizing how he had changed. Still she would know his sure stride anywhere.

He looked up, and seeing her at the window, waved. The sun broke through for a second and glinted off his blond hair. He was so handsome he took her breath away, and he loved her. That's all that mattered. She did not wait for the house maid to attend her but slipped into her grey wool dress and ran down the stairs. Her sense of anticipation for the day was reawakened. Stephen was waiting for her at the door into the breakfast parlor.

"Have you been up long?" she asked as she rushed into his arms. He gave her a kiss that felt warm and passionate without being possessive before he glanced around the hall. It was sweet how he cared for her reputation when they were not properly betrothed. She cared not a whit who saw them.

"I've been awake for an hour. I helped old Bossley with the horses." He opened the door to the breakfast parlor and they entered. He chose a corner chair and seated her at the table so they could converse quietly.

"Do the others know you've returned?" she asked.

Stephen laughed. "Only the upstairs maid, whom I startled. She promised to have the kitchen staff make up tea and toast right away."

"That means all the staff know by now. You still might surprise your father and the rest of the guests." Jane looked forward to witnessing the expression on all their faces when they realized Stephen was alive.

"Lucky me."

Two servers rushed in, the maid with a tea tray and old Foster with a rack of toast and dish of bacon. "So good to have you home, sir. I have informed all the staff," Foster said.

"Thank you, Foster. It's good to be back even under such sad circumstances."

Foster stiffened at the sound of his voice, then left.

Stephen chuckled. "Apparently he finally made the connection to the rumpled traveler on the doorstep, the one he turned away."

Jane smiled. "You won't tell on him."

"No, it is so easy to get along with servants if you simply don't say anything, but that does not work with family. I should have talked to my parents a long time ago."

Stephen served Jane breakfast while she poured the tea. It was as though they were already married. Jane recalled on Christmases past there had been greenery on the windowsills and adorning the mantel, both Stephen and Henry's doing. Then Stephen had left for the service, leaving Henry to decorate at Christmastime, but now he was gone, and Lady Summerhill had not bothered this year. Stephen's mother had suffered far more than she these past four years.

She watched Stephen eat slowly and methodically as though the food came at a great price and must be savored. "Do you mind so much that I told your mother?" she asked.

"Of course not. It was the right thing to do."

"The times I have talked to her over the years, your mother expressed much sadness that you did not write. She had to live off the words you sent to Henry."

He put down his fork and looked at her. "Mother and I figured out why she never received my letter telling her I was on my way home or apparently any of my other letters. When Henry retrieved the post and brought it to the table he'd already opened his letters, but Father went through the rest of the mail."

"Surely he would not withhold news from you when he knew how desperate your mother was about your welfare."

"I don't like to think he would, but there seems no other explanation."

His mother came in smiling then, wearing a dark blue silk dress. She kissed his cheek, and then took a seat on the other side of Stephen. "Don't stand on ceremony, Jane. Please pour me some tea."

Jane was startled into obeying. "Why does Lord Summerhill treat Bertram with so much favor?"

"I—I cannot say." Lady Summerhill glanced toward Stephen.

He smiled and patted his mother's hand. "I have negotiated a marriage with this young lady, so she is soon to be in my confidence."

"Even if my father objects, I will marry no one but Stephen," Jane added.

Lady Summerhill breathed a sigh of relief. "Then you may as well know. My husband does not think Stephen is his son."

Jane choked on a sip of tea and took a moment to recover. "That's absurd."

"My reaction exactly," his mother said.

"And mine." Stephen pushed his plate aside.

Jane thought over the implications of her hostess's revelation. "Will he take any action?"

Lady Summerhill smiled bitterly. "You mean other than sending Stephen off to be killed?"

"Let it rest, Mother. We don't know what he intended. At least I am back. I'm sorry I was not here when you lost Henry."

His mother stared into her teacup. "It was not your fault."

The door opened and Jane's father entered, but stopped at the sight of Stephen. "You are?" he asked.

"Stephen." Her beloved rose and stepped forward to shake her father's hand. Her father seemed stunned but held his hand out anyway.

"He has not changed that much, Father."

"I have been gone a long time," Stephen said. "I'm not surprised you do not recognize me."

Jane's mother pushed into the room and regarded Stephen with surprise and then calculation.

"Mother, Stephen is home from the war. Surely you remember him."

"Of course, but I must say, this is a surprise."

"To all of us," Lady Summerhill said.

Her mother seated herself across from Stephen and Jane poured her some tea. Her father stalked along the sideboard, putting bacon and toast on his plate. Jane was glad at least her mother welcomed Stephen, though she suspected her motives.

"Yes, I must have been a sight with my beard and ragged uniform. I took refuge in the stable until I cleaned up." Stephen sat back down and turned to his mother. "I see my hunters are still here. I thank you for keeping them."

"It was Henry's doing. He knew you would want them when you came back. Your father spoke of selling them, but Henry said you had put them in his charge and would not permit it. They had a terrible row about it."

* * * * *

The door swung open and Lord Summerhill stood in the opening.

Stephen made deliberate eye contact with his father and saw the old man's eyes widen in surprise. Cousin Bertram, who appeared much taller from the last time he'd seen him, peered over his father's shoulder. Stephen wondered where Aunt Agatha was but recalled she liked to sleep in late.

Suddenly the room felt crowded.

"I say, Stephen. Good to have you back." Bertram pushed in and clapped him on the shoulder. "So very good." His cousin went straight to the food and loaded a plate. He was not as pudgy as he used to be and hardly seemed like an interloper. In fact Stephen got an impression of relief from Bertram.

"So you're back." Lord Summerhill pronounced the words like a reprimand. With his dark brows and grim mouth it was hard to say what he meant by the phrase.

"As I promised in my last letter to Mother, which she did not receive."

His father pursed his lips and looked toward the sideboard. "I didn't think a mere rifleman could get leave, even for a funeral. But of course you did not arrive in time."

Stephen noticed his mother cringe at the word funeral. "An officer can request leave, when not in the thick of battle. I received Mr. Chadwick's letter at St. Pierre on this side of the Pyrenees. It was already a month old. Once the battle was ours, my second lieutenant was happy to take over for me. Since we are pushing the French back to Paris, my service is not required."

"So you mean to stay?" His father's eyebrows arched in surprise.

Stephen thought it an odd response even for a parent who was so alienated from him. "I'm not sure."

"Of course he's going to stay," his mother said, and laid a hand on Stephen's. "Where else would he go?"

"I'm sure Father and I will have a chance to discuss my future after breakfast, now that I have a future."

* * * * *

Though Jane enjoyed the meal more now that things seemed to be going in the right direction, she did not like the scowl on Lord Summerhill's face. She had to do her bit to make sure their marriage would be accepted as the best course. She did not want them pushing her onto Bertram even if he might inherit from his uncle.

When Stephen left the table with his father, she took her mother into the vacant morning room. No fire burned in the hearth and she drew her shawl about her for warmth. "This changes everything."

"Yes, clever girl," her mother said. "You have already found favor with Stephen. Can you contrive to engage his interest?" Her mother paced and rubbed her hands together.

Jane stifled an impatient sigh, but knew it was useless to speak to her mother of true love. "I am doing my best. Recall, I was not yet seventeen when he left, but now he sees me as a woman. What would Father say to such a match?"

"He will agree, of course. I will see to it." She rubbed her bottom lip.

"Then I am content."

"Jane, you need to let Bertram down easy."

"What? Oh, I will." She was surprised her mother had so much sensibility, but in her opinion Bertram needed no consolation.

* * * * *

Though Stephen had followed his father into the estate office, when the man had beckoned, there appeared no urgency on his parent's part. Lord Summerhill dealt with two supplicants and a letter before turning to Stephen who stood in front of the cold fireplace. He rested his arm along the mantle and regarded his parent as though the delay was of no concern.

He had faced the French guns and snipers, had been pursued by cavalry and laughed in their faces. Toward the end, he had taken far too many chances and had been wounded in the shoulder because of such foolishness. If his father had expected him to throw his life away, he had almost done so.

Lord Summerhill looked up. "You come back here and expect everything will be as it was."

"No, nothing will ever be the same again with Henry gone."

"You never cared about Henry," his father accused.

"Of course I cared. He was my brother, and he stood up for me and, kept you from showing your contempt for me. I will miss him for that and for his good humor and other kindnesses."

"You'll get the title, of course," he said as if Stephen had not spoken. "However, the estate is not entailed, you know. I can leave it as I wish."

"Of course. I think you should do as you wish. I want only one thing from you."

His father's brows drew together in confusion, probably unable to guess what could be more to the point than the title and estate. "What is that?"

"That you apologize to Mother for your unjust accusation."

"How dare you." His father flew to his feet and leaned forward, his fists on the desk. "May I point out: you are not in a position to be an authority on your birth."

"Apparently, neither are you. She has told me about your unfounded suspicion, which must have been your reason to send me away. That's when it all started, trying to get rid of me."

"I will not apologize."

"I believe she speaks the truth. I am your son. Why don't you believe her?"

Lord Summerhill shook his head. "It's true you don't look like me or Henry. Bertram is more in my likeness than you are."

"I look more like Mother, as she looked in her youth. If you continue to persecute her, I'll ask her to live with Jane and me – wherever we go."

"You and Jane Faraday? So that's how it is. You know she has only 500 a year."

"We have not discussed her income. In fact I have yet to speak to her father."

"Then you are hardly in a position to dictate terms to me. You wouldn't even accept the cavalry regiment I negotiated for you."

"I had two very good reasons for not accepting."

"What are they?"

"I am a much better shot than a rider, hence the rifle corps. Also I did not want to take our horses into the maul of war. I hear I have Henry to thank for the care of mine. Jane and I can leave on those if no other option comes our way."

His father stared at him in amazement as though digesting these statements proved a difficult task. Stephen thought it a good moment to leave him and seek his beloved.