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Mid-day
Christmas Eve
L
ord save me from a day of boredom.
“Lord Henshaw has arrived to see Lady Lettice,” the butler announced at the door of the drawing room.
Letty jerked her head up. She sat on a chair with her ankle propped on an embroidered foot stool. “Oh, dear,” she said to herself. Heat slapped at her cheeks when Nora and Lynette glanced at her with interest in their expressions. To say nothing of the speculation in her mother’s eyes as she set down her embroidery work. Striving to ignore her reaction, she nodded. “Very well. Show him in.” When the butler departed, she shrugged. “Lord Henshaw promised yesterday he’d call to check on me after my fall.”
Nora nodded. “Your ankle is doing well, and since you took the tumble on his property, no doubt he feels responsible.”
Her other soon-to-be sister-in-law smiled. “That’s the sign of a good man.” Then she winked. “To say nothing of the fact that he might wish to court you.”
“Oh, do stop,” Letty hissed just as the baron came into the room. “Lord Henshaw, what a nice surprise.” Goodness, why did the flutter of butterfly wings tickle through her belly? Surely, she was much too old for that sort of thing.
“How are you feeling today, Lady Lettice?” he asked in lieu of a greeting, and oh, how handsome he was today! His jacket of charcoal superfine fit his shoulders like a second skin, and the sapphire waistcoat added a nice pop of color, especially since his trousers were a lighter shade of gray. Without that splash, he’d be rather drab, but mourning looked especially nice on him.
“Well enough. There’s still a twinge in my ankle but not as acute as yesterday. Nora has given me some white willow bark tea that keeps the pain in check.” Her heartbeat accelerated as he came further into the room. “You needn’t have come over for just that.”
“Nonsense. I said that I would, and I’m a man of my word.” He frowned as he glanced about the room. “Where is Abigail?”
Letty shrugged. “Either she’s still abed or she’s found other entertainment. I believe some of the house party decided to get up a walking party.”
“Miss Beckwith is no doubt enjoying herself. Please don’t worry.” For the first time, her mother spoke. She offered her hand to the baron, who promptly scooped it up and carried it to his lips. “Good morning and welcome, Lord Henshaw. I trust the country lanes were passable?”
“Oh, yes. Quite.” He released her mother’s hand and then turned to greet the other ladies in the room. Finally, he faced the duchess. “In fact, it’s beautiful out there currently. If the temperatures continue to rise, the snow will soon melt, and we’ll have a muddy mess on our hands.”
“So it goes with English weather,” Lynette said with a glance at Nora. “The boys will be so disappointed. They have lofty plans of ice skating this week with Lucy and John. They mean to have races on one of the larger ponds.”
Her mother chuckled. “There are two things we can bank on in this world: love makes everything bearable, and English weather is constantly surprising.” She bounced her gaze between Letty and the baron. “If I were you, I’d take full advantage of the sunshine while I could. We’re liable to have clouds soon enough.”
“There’s not much I can do until my ankle heals fully.” She avoided looking directly at Lord Henshaw for fear any sort of reaction would give away her interest.
“Such excuses you children concoct these days,” her mother said with a shake of her head. “You must be inventive, my dear.” She tapped her chin with a forefinger then her expression brightened, and mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Your father had the sleigh brough out earlier. He took me on a morning ride over the acreage. Perhaps Lord Henshaw might do the same with you.”
Nora nodded. She tucked an escaped tendril of blonde hair behind her ear. “It’s a perfect activity, for it won’t tax your ankle. Plus, it would do you both good to breathe in the crisp, clear air. From a medical standpoint, you could do with more exercise. It’ll help sort your thoughts.”
“I haven’t been in a sleigh since I was a much younger woman.” Heat crept into her cheeks as she finally glanced at Lord Henshaw. He briefly met her gaze. The fleeting hope there before confusion took hold tugged at her heart. “But I suppose it might be nice.”
“Excellent.” Her mother nodded. “Perhaps you should have Lucy go with you. She can burn off some restless energy.” She laughed. “The girl is much like her grandfather in that regard.”
Letty frowned. “Is Papa’s health growing stronger then?”
Her mother exchanged a speaking glance with Nora before slowly nodding. “He’s well. I think Christmastide is doing him good, as is anticipating the ball for our anniversary.”
“What a good idea, Your Grace,” Lynette said. “I have a project I’m making for Lucy and with her out of the house for a while, I could finish it.”
“Then it’s settled.” Her mother grinned.
Yet no one asked me what I wanted.
Letty sighed. “Will someone locate my daughter and ask the nursery maid to help her into appropriate clothes?” She looked at the baron. “If you don’t mind waiting, we should be ready to go within a half hour.” Knots pulled in her belly, both of anxiety and anticipation, for it had been a long time indeed since she’d gone on a ride with a man.
“I’ll wait as long as it takes for the chance to escort two of Bedworth’s finest ladies,” he said with a slight bow from the waist that made Nora and Lynette titter in amusement.
“Such gallantry.” Her mother clicked her tongue. “I’ll go see to Lucy’s toilette myself.”
Thirty minutes later, Lord Henshaw carried Letty out to the waiting sleigh. He solicitously tucked a fur-lined blanket about her. A groom put a heated brick beneath her feet. Lucy sat on the bench opposite her and the baron. She fairly vibrated with excitement.
However, anxiety twisted through Letty’s insides as they got underway. How would the baron interact with her? Lucy could be rather much for anyone with experience, but for a childless man who preferred the quiet and solitude over all things? Even now, his bearing was so taut she wondered if his muscles ached from strain.
“Mama, why do we not travel by sleigh all the time?” Lucy asked, and the sound of her voice wrenched Letty from her thoughts. “This is amazing!” The girl turned about on her bench, resting on her knees as she watched the horse trot according to the baron’s command on the reins.
“Because they’re only needed in winter, for the runners will allow a sleigh to go places a carriage can’t reach.”
From beside her, Lord Henshaw snickered. He relaxed by increments until he’d gathered the reins in his right hand and rested the left on his thigh. “It is rather a nice way to travel. Much smoother than by carriage.”
“Yes!” Lucy bounced on her bench. When she turned to face them again, she bestowed a wide grin on the man, which usually signified trouble. “Not jostling or bouncing. Just smooth.” She made a gesture with a mittened hand. “It’s wonderful.”
Letty hid a smile by pressing her gloved fingers to her lips. It wouldn’t do to encourage her. She was already rambunctious enough. “And look how pretty the countryside is today, Lucy. The snow sparkles like a million diamonds.”
“Mama, do you even know what a million diamonds looks like?” her daughter asked with all the cheek and wisdom only a five-year-old could have.
“Of course not, but it’s nice to imagine.”
Lucy peered at the baron. “Have you ever seen that many diamonds, Lord Henshaw?”
“I have not.”
“Have you ever seen one?”
“Yes, many times. My mother used to have a fantastic diamond in a pendant she wore every day when I was a young man.” The fingers of his hand that rested on his thigh curled slightly into a fist.
Lucy nodded. “What happened to it?”
Oh, dear. “Lucy, it’s not polite to pry.”
“It’s all right.” His hand relaxed. He gave her daughter a small grin. “It remains around my mother’s neck. She was buried with it.”
“Oh.” Lucy’s eyes went wide. “She died like my papa?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“If my mama ever dies, I’ll be sad.” Lucy hopped off her bench to pat his free hand. “I’m sorry if you’re sad too.”
Letty’s heart squeezed as she watched the two interact.
“I appreciate that, and I’m sorry your papa died. I suppose heaven needed them both more than we did,” the baron said in a soft voice. “We shall see them again.”
“That’s what Mama says too.” Lucy climbed back onto her bench. “You’re a good sort, Lord Henshaw.”
“Thank you.” When Lucy amused herself by looking about at the scenery, he leaned closer to Letty. “Does that mean she endorses me as a person?”
“Oh, quite.” Letty couldn’t help a giggle. “She’s never taken to a man before who isn’t an uncle so quickly before.”
“And she has quite a store of those.” His grin widened a tiny bit.
I’d give anything to know what he’s thinking right now. “She does indeed. They spoil her scandalously.”
Her daughter once more rested her attention on the baron. “Uncle Griffin and Uncle Stephen will marry soon.”
“What lovely news.” He glanced at Letty and winked, for they’d touched vaguely on the subject already. “It hasn’t made the rounds of London gossip.”
“That’s because it just happened,” Lucy said with a roll of her eyes, as if everyone around was supposed to have known.
“Be nice, Lucy,” Letty admonished gently. To her companion, she said, “For whatever reason, the Christmastide season at Ivy Hall is proving romantic. My older brothers have both found love. I expect they’ll wed sometime in the spring.”
“Uncle Stephen adores mistletoe,” Lucy added, which caused the conversation to take another jog.
The baron’s lips twitched with amusement, and Letty couldn’t stop staring at his mouth. “Oh, how’s that?”
“He’s always putting Mrs. Hodgins under it so he can kiss her.” She waved a mittened hand in dismissal.
This time Lord Henshaw snorted with laughter. “Well, that is one of the things one does with mistletoe.”
Lucy nodded. “Mama’s never been kissed.”
Oh, dear heavens! Heat slapped at Letty’s cheeks. She refused to look at the baron. “I have so. I was married to your father, remember.”
“Mmhmm.” The child glanced at the baron.
“Married couples often kiss even without mistletoe, Miss Jonesboro.” When he glanced Letty’s way, there was a certain twinkle in his eyes that sent tingles down her spine.
“I’ve never seen you kiss anyone, Mama,” Lucy said as if that settled the matter.
A wild half snort half laugh escaped the baron, but he kept his attention to the reins and the horse.
Letty stifled her own urge to laugh, for the conversation was quite ridiculous. “Perhaps that’s all to the good, Lucy dear. Kissing is rather personal, and not for children.”
For long moments, her daughter rested her gaze on her. Then she flicked it away and gasped. “Mama, look there. It’s a hill.” She pointed with a hand.
“It’s a snow drift, dear. Sometimes when the wind blows the fluffy snow, it accumulates into a drift.”
“May I jump in it and play? I’ve never seen a drift before.” Excitement threaded through her voice.
“Uh.” Letty glanced at him. He shrugged and tugged on the reins, bringing the horse to a halt. “I don’t see why not. We shouldn’t linger. I’m sure the baron has pressing business today.”
“On Christmas Eve?” His chuckle stirred the butterflies in her belly. “I should think not, unless you assume sitting in front of a fire, listening to my sister list out eligible men and constantly ask when we’re returning to London as pressing business.”
“I do not.” Some of the gaiety of the moment faded beneath new worries. When would he return to Town? She waved a hand at Lucy. “Go have fun. We’ll wait for you.”
T
here was no better way to discover the truth about a person than listen to the chatter of a young child, and the more Courtland discovered about Lady Letty, the more he liked her. In her company, he somehow felt less alone in the world and she made him comfortable in his grief.
He grinned when her daughter spilled out of the sleigh and ran with abandon to throw herself bodily into the snow drift. “Oh, thank God there wasn’t a boulder beneath the snow.” Then he laughed out loud along with Letty when Lucy temporarily disappeared into the mound of frozen precipitation. “Your daughter is marvelous.”
Letty shook her head. She was adorable in a red woolen cloak with a matching gown. A portion of the holiday personified. “Oh, don’t fall victim to her charms. She’ll have you wrapped around her little finger so fast, you’ll soon be a prisoner like her uncles.”
The girl did have a winsome way about her. “Perhaps that’s as it should be.” For the first time in his life, a twinge of envy went through his chest. Had he delayed too long in starting his own family? Would the empty nursery rooms at Beckwith Trace remain that way?
“It’ll give her an inflated sense of importance once she’s older, I fear.” A frown pulled at the corners of the lady’s ruby red lips.
Courtland stifled a groan of appreciation. “Perhaps, but for now, let her enjoy childhood. Remember when we did much the same reckless things in our youth?” How could he recapture that magic and friendship from so long ago? And did he only want friendship from this woman now?
“Of course.” Amusement threaded through her dulcet tones. “Not much has changed since then.”
“Are you quite certain? Somehow, I can’t see you throwing yourself bodily into a snow drift.” When she laughed, his grin widened before he sobered. “We grew up and knew what grief was. That’s quite a change.”
“Yes.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “Even Lucy has known that sadness.”
“It will help her gain perspective as she matures.” He turned slightly toward her. When their knees bumped, warmth ebbed up his leg.
“I think perhaps grief is the price we pay for enjoying love.” The words were so soft he almost missed them.
“That’s a good way of explaining it, but I rather feel love wouldn’t exact such a high penalty.” He watched Lucy’s antics with half a mind, for the woman beside him had captured his attention.
“I agree with you there, but why else does it hurt so acutely when our loved ones leave us too soon?” For long moments she remained silent as she stared not at him but through him. “Henry and I fell in love at first sight. That love only strengthened as our relationship went along. It was strong enough to survive when he received his orders to go fight, which precipitated our hasty wedding. That love blazed hot and quick. It never faded.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “If my grief is the payment, it’s a horrible burden. I’d rather have the happy memories.”
His heart went out to her, for obviously she still suffered the loss. “Sometimes two people just know someone is supposed to be in their life. There’s no logical reason for love; it merely happens. And if we’re fortunate, we hold onto it tight while we have it.”
“Yes, it was just like that.” Tears welled in her brown eyes, making them luminous.
If he weren’t careful, he’d do something foolish like taking her into his arms to comfort her. “How long into your marriage did he die?”
“A little over halfway. Lucy was a one-year-old. Henry had come for a quick leave and was able to spend time with her—the first time he’d ever met her.” A tear fell to her cheek, and that single crystalline drop went straight to his soul. “He was immediately in love with her. She was a beguiling baby.”
Needing to touch her, let her know she wasn’t alone, Courtland rested his free hand atop hers on the bench. “I can see that. Your daughter is quite charming now. Perhaps she takes after her mother in that regard.”
“Oh, la.” But the blatant compliment made her smile. “It’s her special ability, winning strangers over to her side.” Another few tears fell as she found his gaze. “That was the last time I saw Henry alive. If I’d but known, perhaps our time together could have been more meaningful, deeper in some way, but I had the baby, and she took much of my time... time I should have spent with him.” Her voice broke on the last words, and she dissolved into gentle sobs.
“I won’t caution you not to cry, for I suspect you haven’t washed yourself clean of the sorrow much before this point.” He drew his handkerchief from a pocket of his greatcoat and pressed it into her hand. “I’m so sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” The lady dabbed at her streaming eyes.
“I’ve never lost a spouse, but I imagine that pain is quite intense. I only know how my heart aches whenever I think of my father, and death is a terrible business.” Emotions he hadn’t shed lodged in his throat, but now was not the time to suffer his own descent into that miasma of grief.
She nodded. “I appreciate you’re willing to listen. It’s a gift.” The smile she offered was a watery affair. “As long as we don’t forget those we loved or lose some of that pain, those we lost will forever remain with us.”
“Yet it’s only natural the pain will ease over time. It won’t truly go away, but it will be made comfortable, bearable. This is what happened when I lost my mother.” Courtland sat beside her in silence while she softly cried. They watched Lucy, who made angels in the snow, oblivious to the chill in the air. Eventually, he stirred. “I must say I’m a bit envious of you.”
“Oh? Whyever for?” Surprise lined her face.
“You’ve loved and have known that love in return.” The truth was difficult for him to admit, but he needed to say it. “Though it broke your heart, at least you’ve used yours. I feel as if I’ve kept mine safe from hurt and it’s wasting away.” Why he’d decided to share that with her, he couldn’t say.
“I’ve never thought about it that way before. How interesting.” Lady Lettice dabbed at her eyes and mopped the moisture from her face. “Thank you for that confidence. I suspect it wasn’t easy for you.”
“You’re welcome, and no, it was not. I’ve precious little people in my life with whom to share anything.”
“I understand.” She sighed. “Honestly, I’d rather hide away for the next few days. There’s the holiday then on Boxing Day, my parents are hosting a lavish ball to celebrate their wedding anniversary. It’s all just too much, but...”
“...but for Lucy’s sake you must carry on with a stiff upper lip.”
“Yes, and for my parents too.”
“Such is life with a large family.” He squeezed her fingers. “I’ll sit with you for as long as you should need company, without judgment or even conversation, if it will help you make it through the festivities.” He winked. “Obviously, you won’t be able to indulge in dancing.”
“This is so.” When she looked at him with wide eyes filled with surprise and moisture-spiked lashes, his heart gave a mighty thud as if it were suddenly coming to life after too many years of being comatose. “I would like that. Thank you.”
“I’m happy to do it. Perhaps I can help you feel less alone as you’ve done for me. It’s much like how I felt in childhood each time I saw you.” What would she think of yet another confession? For that matter, how the devil did she manage to pull out long-held secrets?
Her eyebrows rose. “Even though you were more friendly with my brothers?”
An unexpected laugh escaped him. “They’re a rough and tumble bunch. I couldn’t lose face back then, but now, I favor the quiet places in life, the more sensitive things that call to my soul such as poetry, drawing, occasionally playing the pianoforte.”
She sucked in a breath. “I had no idea, Lord Henshaw. How splendid to discover you have such talents.”
“Please, call me Courtland. I dislike formality between us.”
“All right. Courtland. You may refer to me as Letty. Except around my family. Best not to stir that pot.”
“Perhaps you’re right.” The sound of his name in her gentle tones made him both daring and anxious, so he leaned closer. Before he could change his mind, he pressed his lips to hers, and the warmth that fleeting moment imparted would live long within his memory. Though he pulled away almost immediately, the astonishment in her eyes gave him pause. Had he read the situation wrong? “I beg your pardon. That wasn’t well done of me. I should have asked permission—”
“It wasn’t needed, for I would have given it anyway.” With a quick glance toward her daughter, Letty returned his kiss, and it was just as short-live, but no less pleasant. She eased back with a grin that lit tiny fires in his blood. “Kisses at Christmastide are much sweeter than any other time of year, don’t you think?”
“It hadn’t occurred to me to compare kisses with a time of year in mind.” He couldn’t think of anything in that moment except the exquisite softness of Letty’s lips or why the devil hadn’t he ever noticed her as a woman before.
What do I do now?