December 27, 1816, the Third Day of Christmas
“What is the Third Day of Christmas set aside for?” Tam asked as they rode back to Oakley Park. Ashford had been telling them about the scenery along the way, playing the good host, though she suspected he was more worried about his brother than he showed.
He had to think. “Oh…the stables because they were the favorite place of all of us, right, Mother?”
“I used to be something of a horsewoman in my day. Yes, we loved to discuss the breeding program for the year.”
“In January?” Tam asked.
Lady Oakley nodded. “The mares come into heat in February so it wasn’t too early.”
Miss Whit shuddered at this frank talk of breeding so Tam asked no more questions until they were pulling around the drive in front of the hall. Greaves came out to greet them himself. Though the butler looked jolly, the footmen seemed sluggish as though they’d had too much ale the day before.
Luncheon was the usual efficient parade of dishes, nothing like the feast of Christmas Day, but a wonderful stew, some trout and lamb chops. Tamara wondered if they could find a cook in London who would do as well. That brought a disquieting thought. Ashford’s servants actually wanted to please him. What had she and Miss Whit ever done to their cook to make her so uncooperative? Did they not pay her enough or not compliment her?
When it was time for the expedition to the stables, Lady Oakley declared herself too tired and Miss Whit took up her knitting. So Tam bundled up in her coat and muff and took Ash’s arm as they walked to the stable at the side of the house. The sun was hiding from them today and a cold wind licked at the feathers of her hat.
Once they entered the horse barn, all was warm and fragrant. She recalled how much she liked the scent of hay and leather, yes, even horse droppings. Tam had never been able to keep a horse in town but recalled their summers on the estate they’d rented. If she had continued to do that, her brother might not have been so restless.
But in those days she was trying to save every penny for his future. Possibly she had managed too sparingly.
Fortunately the war required lots of wool cloth for uniforms. That’s when she’d used her inheritance from her mother to start the sewing factory. She shivered at her heartlessness. Thank God she had not spoken such a comment out loud. It would have wounded Ash to the quick.
Did managing well make her unsuited for marriage, since she considered profit first and feelings second?
They walked past the stalls of the carriage horses and plow horses ’til they came to the end of the rows of boxes.
“These are the horses I brought back from Spain.” He showed her two gray mares and a stallion the same dappled color across the way. “I left with three and returned with three…but not the same three.”
She touched his arm. “Do not let the past haunt you. You did what you thought best at the time.”
“I may have shortened my father’s life by leaving.”
“No, do not take that upon yourself. We never know the consequences of our actions but can only do what we believe is right.”
“You are good for me. You convince me I am not insane or stupid. Saying you meant well is small defense when you have caused a disaster.”
“You did no such thing.” She reached for the mare and stroked her muzzle. “I liked to ride when we let the summer place near Epping.”
“You gave that up for your brother?”
“I thought we should invest in his education rather than summer holidays but I should have discussed it with him.”
“When the weather improves, we will ride.”
She smiled at him because it was not an idle promise. He would take her riding if she stayed. It made her young again, as though all the possibilities she had turned her back on were still waiting for her. Marriage and children were not out of the question at her age. “So tell me about the horses.”
“They are the future since they will produce next year’s foals. At least I had them bred, though I was off my head when I was home that spring. Lucky for the war in Belgium or I might have gone completely insane.”
She stroked the muzzle of the other curious mare as she watched Ash feeding it carrots. “I never thought of war as an aid to sanity.”
“It helps you get your priorities straight. There the only things that matters are winning and staying alive. I have never felt more alive than in battle.”
She saw a slow smile spread across his face and was amazed. “Do you still think that’s all that matters?”
He looked at her intently. “No, I have come to realize that everything matters. If you don’t take note of things, they will slip away from you.”
“Things like your brother and mother?”
“Yes, I nearly lost both of them by crawling into my shell of indifference.”
“But you have not lost them. Your mother’s love is patient. You will find your brother is waiting for you to come back to your old self.”
He stared at her. “When I wake in the morning, I fear you are only a dream I had, that my memory has played me false. Then I greet you at breakfast and we settle into a familiarity that amazes me, that I don’t want to lose.” He gazed intently into her eyes. Ashford spoke so poetically Tam found it hard to imagine him on a battlefield.
She wanted him in her life every morning as well and not only at the breakfast table. They would have time for themselves later. Nothing need end with this holiday, even if their brothers did not appear. “What about when you go to sleep?”
“Then I count the days until Twelfth Night, in the fear I may never see you after that.”
“Ash, we are too close to be parted for long. You will see me whenever you wish.”
“You don’t understand. I tend to let people slip away from me.”
“You won’t…forget me if I go back to London?” she asked.
“Never.”
“I won’t slip away. I promise you that. I’m far too annoying. Besides, we have a mystery to solve together.”
“Yes, our brothers. Trust Dinny to find them. If they had met with an accident we would have heard.”
At the thought of all the accidents that may have befallen the boys, she kept one hand on the comforting warmth of the mare’s neck. “I’m sure you’re right.”
“For a day or two, you are not to worry about them. Promise me.”
“Impossible, but I will not speak of my fears.”
He put his arm around her waist and she stood close to him—listening to the calming crunch of the horses eating treats and the rustle of hay as the animals moved about—until they had no excuse not to walk back to the house.
* * * * *
December 28, the Fourth Day of Christmas
After another delightful breakfast, Ash ordered the phaeton hitched and drove Tam to the top of the hill where the sheep barn was located. She wore her red wool cape in honor of the sheep and of the brisk wind that would have lanced through a thinner garment.
Lady Oakley no longer pretended that Tam needed a chaperone in Ash’s company and Miss Whit was so desperate to get her married that she would have sworn to a sprained ankle to further the suit.
Of course none of the servants questioned their close company and it no longer bothered Tam that others expected Ash to declare himself. If fact she feared he would propose too soon and she wasn’t sure how she would answer him. With her brother on her hands—not even that, missing—she felt it would be frivolous to think of an engagement.
Yet she thought of nothing else. She was under the spell of Ashford Steel and she did not want to have that broken. He almost make her believe in fairy-tale endings.
He and Tam now stood together in the sheepfold, listening to the bleating of two early lambs who were learning to suckle from their mother while the shepherd made ready to release the rest of the flock into the snow-covered pasture to forage for wisps of grass.
“I’m not sure how these two arrived so early,” Ash said. “It’s good to keep them under shelter for a week or so until their wool grows some.”
Tam leaned over the rail of the pen to look at the nubby babies now butting their ewe’s udder for milk. “The other ewes are jealous of this one.”
“Why not? She has accomplished her goal for the year.” He took a deep breath and sighed with satisfaction. “I love the smell of wet wool mixed with the scent of sweet hay.”
Tam glanced around at the well-kept building and shared Ash’s contentment. “Like the stable, the sheep barn is a feast for the senses. When will the rest of the lambs arrive?”
“All during April.”
“A new beginning,” Tam said. “It fits to come here on the Fourth Day.”
“There is nothing like the bleating of lambs and fifty ewes.”
“I like your father’s book of days. More people should observe such traditions.”
“Mother said it was a way for him to plan or control the year, though he was not in control of that horse that fell on him.”
She sniffed. “I would have got on well with him. I am always trying for control.”
“Why?” He turned to watch as she answered.
“Control seems safe,” she said.
He grinned. “But not very much fun.”
Tam looked at his sparkling brown eyes. “You are right. We can plan all we wish but we have no control over anything—the weather, the breaking of ice, the slipping of a horse.”
He shook his head. “Why do we care so much about trying to make things safe?”
“Because the reverse is so much more difficult to bear. I would rather blame myself for Terry loping off because it implies I actually have some control over him, when I have none at all.” She held her hands out as though she were releasing a caged bird.
“So you admit his desertion may not be your fault after all. Does that make you feel helpless?” He took one of her hands and pulled her to him.
“Such things used to. Now it makes me feel free.”
“You have given me such good counsel. I wish I could return the favor.” In the absence of any witness except the sheep, he embraced her.
Tam rested her cheek against his chest. “You have. I cannot forever act as a buffer between my brother and the world. I never should have tried.”
“Your brother may have suffered from too much care but mine appears to have rebelled over too little.”
She looked up at him. “It‘s been another day and no word.”
“I know. I should go look as well.” He released her as though the two young men had come between them and that was much the case. How could they think of themselves when their brothers might be dead?
“Would Dinsmore be offended?”
“You seem to care about my friend as much as I do.”
“I imagine he saved your life from time to time and you his. How could I not care and try to imagine some future for him? I know. Chide me for my controlling nature but I see two paths for him and I don’t want him to drink himself away.”
“He’ll find the boys. Then we’ll worry about helping Dinny. It’s getting colder. Let’s go back to the house.”
* * * * *
Ashford spent all his wiles and charm the rest of the day and evening amusing the three ladies and trying not to show his concern, but he’d almost pounced on the post when Greaves brought it. No letter from anyone.
He knew how to get through this. The passage of time would resolve where the boys were sooner or later but he had the uneasy belief he could save them if he just knew where to look.
It was a war of a different kind, one with no battles, just the waiting at which he did not excel. He would far rather attack and get it over with than wait for orders.
Before his tension transmitted itself to the ladies, he reminded himself he was no longer a soldier and should look at the possibilities logically. Had any harm befallen them, they would have sent word. They must be alive somewhere in England, possibly in their own county. If Dinny couldn’t find them, no one could.
Another terrible possibility kept haunting him. If the worst happened, what would Tamara do? Cling to him in her hour of grief or withdraw into herself, go back to London to wait the proscribed mourning period? He thought by now he knew that she would not cower in her grief but would share it with him.
Selfish to plan their future when they had no idea where their brothers were. Those two were among the most important people in their lives but should they be the focus of their attention all the time and for every emergency? He and Tam should be entitled to their own slice of happiness before they were too old.
He wanted to get her promise to marry him but he feared it was too soon. He tied the finding of their brothers to his success as a suitor when he should not. Tam was not demanding a hero, yet that’s what he wanted to be for her.