| |
Miles Lawrence Hawkins, Fifth Earl of Archewyne remained content enough to continue holding his wife in his arms.
It was a brilliant winter’s day to be sure with the sun peeking out from between fat, gray clouds and a chilly breeze playing about the land. Here, amidst the rolling hills where Archewyne Hall was situated, with his family around him, he heartily enjoyed life as it was.
For many years, he had assumed he would pass the years with his daughter while tucked away in a townhouse on the fringes of Mayfair. Until Emmaline came crashing into his life over a year ago. She’d pulled him back into the actual business of living, and it had been like being caught up in a whirlwind ever since. Not only had they solved a murder case, but they foiled two plots against England together. And she’d graced him with a son.
What could he ever want more than he’d already been given?
Finally, he sighed and pressed a kiss to her hair. “Would that time could stop at this moment and we could enjoy it forever.”
“As lovely as this moment is, time does indeed march onward, my love,” Emmaline gently reminded him. She pulled away in order to meet his gaze. “Do you not wish to see where life will take us all next? No doubt there will be other, equally remarkable moments to experience.”
“This is also true.” He smiled and then lifted the hood of her cloak and settled it over her head. The brown rabbit fur trimming of the fabric framed her face, setting off her ivory complexion. “I suppose you are off to the house?”
“I am.” She brushed gloved fingertips along his cheek. Miles silently cursed the fabric that kept him from feeling her skin against his. “I have a scheduled meeting with Jane’s governess this morning. She’d indicated a possible desire to travel home to spend time with her family during the season. I wish to ascertain when she might return to us. I would like for Jane’s education to begin once we return to London for the sitting of Parliament.”
“What is your opinion so far of Miss Wickham?” He hadn’t spent enough time in her company to form definitive thoughts of the governess.
Emmaline shrugged. “Considering she has been with us scarcely a month, I cannot be certain. However, Jane rubs along well with her, or at least she hasn’t attempted to test the limits of Miss Wickham’s patience yet. Perhaps that relationship is still a novelty on both their parts.”
“Let us hope we don’t need to interview a long line of governesses. Once Charles is old enough to join Jane in the schoolroom, Miss Wickham will need to have nerves of steel.” But he refused to curb the children’s enthusiasm for life and for exploring.
She nodded. “For the moment, Mrs. Flagler is enough to look after the baby, but I am glad we renovated the nursery. Having the children together is easier on both ladies.”
“Yes.” Shortly after he and Emmaline had returned to England from a mission in France, they’d put forth plans to have the outdated rooms currently used for the children made into a large nursery suite. The open, airy room with floor-to-ceiling windows contained both Jane and Charles’ play areas, their sleeping quarters and attached rooms for the governess and nurse. When the children grew older, they would be moved into their own private rooms. “I’m afraid Archewyne Hall is rather more ancient than I’d anticipated.”
“We have a lifetime to make improvements.” Emmaline grinned. “But that is not to say I don’t find the Hall dear—drafty as it is and awkward in its layout.” She pulled fully out of his hold. “Will you return to the house with me?”
He glanced at their offspring and then back to her. “Not for a while yet. I’ll let them play a bit before joining you.”
“You are much like a child yourself, Archewyne,” she said with a laugh. “I halfway suspect you anticipate Christmas Day more than they do.”
“Can I help it if I want the celebration to be as magical and hopeful for them as it always was for me as a child? Or at least it was before we ushered in new traditions by removing to Egypt for the winters... where I eventually met you, and that was better than any Christmas.” He waggled his eyebrows.
A hint of a blush stained her cheeks. “Always so charming.”
“Indeed.” His grin was wide as he lowered his voice. “Plus, I have a few gifts for them and cannot wait to see their faces—and yours—when I give them.”
“Jane’s doll with china face, hands and feet? Did it arrive?”
“Yes. Yesterday. We are also giving her a new hair ribbon.”
“And don’t forget the smart pair of button-up boots we bought in France in the fall.”
“I could never forget.” Her smile was sweet and sent heat crashing into his blood.
“The fuzzy sheep toy—”it was on wheels and had a rope lead, “—for Charles is hidden away with Hudson as well as the ball you wished for too. I rather think your valet has played with both.”
“Of course, the toys must be tested. For safety.” He winked.
“So much cheek you have.” She gave an unladylike snort. “I should return to the house. This year there is much to be thankful for.” She closed the slight distance between them and brushed her lips over his. “Don’t linger too long. I’d rather the children not be kept in the chill.”
“It’s good to toughen their resistance to the elements, love. Who knows when they’ll need such training.” If he had his way—and undoubtedly he would—they’d need to buck up sooner than later. The thought kept his grin on his face. Wouldn’t Emmaline be surprised once Christmas Day arrived? He tamped on the excitement rising in his chest. The wait wasn’t long now.
“Perhaps.” She waved to him. “I’m off. Enjoy your outing.” After telling the children goodbye, Emmaline hiked back toward Archewyne Hall, the folds of her green cloak billowing around her.
Miles followed the brief path his children had made as they chased the ever-present geese. “Perhaps if we wish hard enough, it will snow,” he said by way of introducing conversation. “It won’t need to be that much colder, surely.”
“Papa.” Jane turned to face him. Her red bonnet was a cheery sight against the gray sky. “We have had rain, and we cannot see our breath.” She blinked as if her statement of explanation was obvious. “It needs to be very cold for snow.”
He stifled the urge to laugh. “This is so, but for your mama’s sake, we shall wish for it anyway. She has never passed a traditional English Christmas, and certainly not with snow.” As was typical in England, it wouldn’t take much for the chilly rain to turn to flurries. Not paying attention, he tripped over Charles and then tumbled into the tall grass beside his son. The geese crowded around him, staring down with heads cocked in question.
“Papa, you look ridicuwous,” Jane stated and then must have realized she’d slipped back into her old habit of mispronouncing her L-words. She huffed a tiny sigh. “Ridiculous.” Her expression brightened and she broke out into laughter. “Why are you lying there?”
He gave into a chuckle when Charles crawled over, and Miles lifted him onto his chest. The baby sat there, his eyes wide with delight. “Why not, Jane-girl? It is quite fun, and look.” He pointed into the sky. “We can contemplate the clouds and wonder which ones might hold snow.”
“Mama wouldn’t like it.” But Jane settled into the cold grass beside him.
“Don’t be so certain. Your mama loves adventure, and this is just the sort of thing she’d want to do.” Miles encouraged the baby to lay on his stomach over his chest. Drool slickened the boy’s chin, but as the lad settled down as his back was rubbed, Miles slipped his free arm around Jane. “Once, back when your mama and I were in Egypt, we’d spend nights looking at the stars while the adults took their evening meals.”
He’d been a young man and an earl’s second son with no expectations. No one cared what sort of deviltry he’d gotten himself into. Emmaline had been a schoolgirl with dreams of adventure, but they’d become fast friends in that far-flung land, bonded over antiquities, and it was rare that they didn’t spend their days and evenings together.
“Are the stars different there?”
“No, poppet. No matter the world over, the stars are the same.” He grinned at his daughter’s innocent question. “There was a night when we watched constellations until our parents made us retire. One of us procured an astronomy book, and we made it a game to see who could identify the pictures in the stars first.”
The little girl remained silent for a long while as the clouds scooted across the vast expanse of sky. Then she said, “Did you always watch the stars with her?”
“Not always.” When Emmaline had been sent home to England after her mother unexpectedly died, he’d never been lonelier, especially after he’d kissed her for the first time in a dark tomb. “In fact, after that time, I hadn’t stargazed with your mama until Christmas Eve last year on the mountain.”
Interesting that he’d not remembered such a thing. That night, once the earth had stopped shaking from the quake, he and Emmaline Darling—she wasn’t his wife yet—had come to a tentative peace after the misunderstandings that had separated them.
“That was scary and happy at the same time,” Jane admitted. She patted his side with a hand. “Do you think we’ll go away and adventure again soon?”
“Oh, I can guarantee that we will.” He didn’t look at his daughter for fear she’d wheedle the secret from him, and that would spoil the surprise for Christmas morning. “You enjoy traveling, don’t you?”
“Yes. It is exciting to see so much.” She stroked Charles’ head as the baby regarded him with drowsy eyes. “You and Mama are always smiling when we are on adventures. There was laughing. That made me happy.”
“You don’t believe we do that now?”
“Only sometimes. Now,” she waved a hand as if in dismissal. “It is ‘Jane, go with your governess so we can talk to our guest.’ Or ‘Jane, Mama and Papa have business to conduct.’” She’d deepened her voice, presumably to mimic him. Then she sighed. “That does not make me happy.”
“I don’t imagine it would.” His chest tightened. Did she think being in England made them both sad, dour creatures? Perhaps he hadn’t exerted the best of efforts in hiding his boredom. And, at times, conducting business with influential people was needed, over and above what he did for Parliament. Being in the service of the Crown often meant clandestine meetings where little ears couldn’t overhear, and the Duke of Rathesborne was much in attendance.
Miles stifled a sigh. Two of the geese moved closer and regarded him with cocked heads. Removing to the country meant high hopes for this holiday. They all needed to reconnect as a family. “I shall endeavor to smile and laugh more while we’re here. In fact, there will not be any meetings.” He contemplated his son as the boy laid a cheek on his chest and sucked on a fist. His big brown eyes filled with such trust that Miles’ heart squeezed. Would his children think him stodgy and boring, just another peer of the realm, consumed with ton business like he’d thought of his father? God, I cannot allow that to happen. Yet, already, Jane’s childhood was different than his had been. Which was why he couldn’t wait to announce his surprise on Christmas. His little family would change for the better. As for now, he needed a distraction. “You have never played in the snow, have you, Jane?”
“No, but I have played in mud and in sand. And once, I sifted my hands through ash in the kitchen grate before Mama lectured me. Is that the same?”
“Not hardly.” The last it had snowed in England had been when she’d been about three years old. At the time, his first wife had recently died in childbirth, and he’d been embroiled in missions for the Crown. Thus, he’d kept Jane inside and away from everything, in the care of her nurse. Never again. His children needed to experience the best and worst of what life offered; they would learn from it and grow in spirit despite it. He turned his head and pressed a kiss into his daughter’s hair. “When I was a small lad, not much older than you are now, my brother and I used to roll down these hills when they were covered with deep blankets of snow. We ran through it even after our legs were frozen with the cold and our ears felt as if they would snap off. Sometimes we had snow fights in which both of us would ball up snow and then throw it at each other.”
“Oh, Papa, that would be amazing.” Jane struggled into a sitting position. She looked down at him with a wistful expression. “Like a story book.”
“Yes, exactly that. When we were older, my parents spent their winters in Egypt. Then my brother and I rolled down sand dunes instead of snow-covered hills.” He hoped fate would see fit to grant her at least a tiny bit of that sort of precipitation. “Can you keep a secret, poppet?”
“Yes.” She nodded and her eyes twinkled. “Is it about me?”
“No. People rarely discover secrets about themselves unless they listen at keyholes.” He lifted a hand and tweaked her nose. “I have discovered something exciting on this property that I wish to reveal to your mama on Christmas.” It took all of his willpower not to whisk the children off to the back of his acreage where, quite by accident a month ago, he’d uncovered ancient ruins of a Roman mosaic when his horse couldn’t clear a jump. Upon further inspection, he’d deduced the piece was merely a portion of what might be the floor of a Roman villa—or domus—which meant a fancy home, dating back 1600 years, and had the makings of being a substantial find for archeology. A complete study and dig of the area was needed, but not until spring. “I intend to bring her out here on Christmas morning to show her the discovery, but you must not tell her.” Once the site was excavated in its entirety, he would dedicate the find to her as well as entering the artifacts in her name with the British Museum.
At the moment, keeping the site secure was his main concern, so if it did snow, that would be a temporary cover.
“I won’t.” Jane shook her head. “Will she love it?” She giggled when one of the geese nudged her foot with its bill.
“Oh, very much so.” That wasn’t the only surprise he had in store for his wife or even his daughter. Excitement bubbled through his chest. Would that Christmas came quickly.
His daughter frowned. When she poked a finger at her brother, the baby offered a silly smile before a yawn stole it. “Will you give me a present?”
“Of course.” He grinned. “But you must wait until Christmas morning.”
“There you are.” Relief flooded Hudson’s voice and it interrupted the cozy conversation.
Miles turned his head as his valet climbed the hill and approached their location. The geese scattered a few feet away with indignant honks. “I did tell you I’d be walking the grounds with the children.”
Though Hudson was also a King’s man and had come into Miles’ employment through appointment by the Duke of Rathesborne for security of sorts, he had also become a close friend. As such, Miles found personal enjoyment in slipping away from the man’s watchful eyes at times.
“I am aware of that, my lord. However, when I could no longer spot your form from my vantage point, I began to panic.” Hudson popped his hands on his hips and gazed down upon him. “Do you require assistance to your feet?”
His temporary freedom over, Miles nodded. He wrapped an arm around the drowsy baby on his chest and offered the other to his valet. “I suppose we should head back.” As he spoke, the skies spit out a light, cold rain.
Hudson tugged him to his feet. “That would be preferable, my lord.”
“Only for your comfort.” Miles snuggled his son beneath the folds of his greatcoat and then reached for his daughter’s hand. “Come, poppet. Mr. Hudson doesn’t approve of us lying on the cold ground.”
“I do not. Plus, there are geese milling about.” Yet his lips twitched with amusement as the feathered guards waddled closer to Miles while eyeing Hudson with suspicion.
Jane gazed at the valet as she slipped her hand into Miles’. “You should try it sometime, Mr. Hudson. It is brilliant fun.”
“I am certain it is, Lady Jane.” He cocked a blond eyebrow. “I assume the geese haven’t fallen out of love with you?”
“As you can see, they have not. The bloody things are always underfoot.” Both Miles and Hudson exchanged good-natured laughs as they all headed toward Archewyne Hall, the geese bringing up the rear of the procession. “I suppose I am stuck with them for the duration.”
“There is never a dull moment with you, my lord.”
When Jane insisted on running ahead, Miles cleared his throat. “Is everything secure at the house?”
“Of course, my lord. I expect nothing less.” Hudson clasped his hands behind his back. “Did you assume there was a cause for alarm?”
“I did not. However, now that I have a portion of Roman pavement unearthed, there is every possibility someone will wish to steal the discovery or destroy it.” He patted the baby’s back when he began to fuss. “I wish for it to remain in obscurity for as long as possible.”
The valet nodded. “The likelihood of persons unknown poking about your property for a half-excavated find is quite low.”
“While this is true, recent events have me on edge.” More than two months earlier, while searching out the legendary Lancelot Stone, he and Emmaline had discovered a sinister plot against England and the monarchy. More than that, the knowledge that foreign spies from the Bavarian region—the German Federation specifically—had infiltrated key households and businesses throughout the ton meant a man wasn’t safe anywhere.
“Understandable.” They walked in silence for a few minutes as the spitting rain continued. “At this point, there is no cause for alarm, at least not within your households. I have discreetly inquired into every servants’ background. If I had encountered an issue, I would have taken care of it myself.”
“Good man.” Though still disconcerting to have Hudson along as his own personal security force, he’d come to rely on the other man’s presence and assistance. “If I might ask that either you or someone you trust could make a few patrols out toward the southern boundary, it would set my mind at ease.”
“I’ll see to it myself.” Hudson nodded. He lowered his voice even though no one was around to overhear. “Shall I also procure someone to take care of monitoring it once you return to Town?”
“Absolutely. I won’t rest easy until the whole of it is uncovered and properly documented. I want every bit of that find catalogued and any worthwhile items sent to the British Museum unless we keep them here.”
Hudson snorted. “It will be a rather slow, long endeavor, my lord.”
“Yes, it will.” Miles sighed as the gray rooftops of the Hall came into view. The vivid red of Jane’s cloak provided a splash of brilliant color against the grasses as she skipped around the edge of a small pond. “I’m hoping a good portion of the site can be dealt with in the spring.”
“I shall do what I can to prepare before we leave.”
“Excellent. Also, do keep mum about the find around the countess. I wish to surprise her at Christmas.” Miles shifted the baby in his arms. The soft cooing from Charles made him smile. “If she discovers it beforehand, she will want to be out here, digging herself.”
This time the valet openly laughed. “Lady Archewyne is a... treasure.”
“Why do I suspect that wasn’t the first word you’d picked to describe her?” Miles grinned and clapped a hand on Hudson’s shoulder. “But I agree, to any word you’ve selected. Life has been interesting ever since she came back into my life.”
“I can believe it.” The valet unsuccessfully tamped a snicker.
“Do you not wish to go home for the holiday? I’m sure I can spare you for a week or so if you want to gather with family.”
“No.” Hudson shook his head. “This year, my sisters Lucy and Lydia, are otherwise engaged. They shall spend time at a house party in Derbyshire. Something about the younger one wishing to circulate where men are sure to be. And what better way to do that than at a duke’s party?” He rolled his eyes. “Wishes to be married, that one, and not getting any younger at three and twenty. Everything is urgent at that age.”
Miles chuckled. “Understandable. What of your other sister? Is she wed?”
“A widow, with two children. She does passingly well. Too proud for assistance. Too stubborn to accept another suit. Refuses any help I wish to send.” He glanced at Miles. “How did we become saddled with such headstrong women?”
“We were lucky, my friend. Take it as the gift, and the great responsibility, it is.” His spirits lifted once more, Miles whistled a jaunty tune. “How else are we to know we are alive if they don’t remind us?”
Christmas would be wonderful, exactly like he’d planned.