Jillian drew back, her gaze dropping immediately to her sister’s child—little Thomas, barely six months old, rosy-cheeked and blinking sleepily at the lantern light. Helena’s face softened as she followed Jillian’s gaze.
“He’s been impossible today,” Helena murmured, rocking him gently. “Refusing to nap, refusing to be put down, refusing everything except chewing on Henry’s cravat. Which I take as proof he is a Fairfax.”
“Entirely,” Miles said, leaning in to inspect the baby with a dignity bordering on reverence. “No cravat is safe.”
Helena laughed, tugging Jillian inside and shutting the cold out behind them. Fairhaven’s warmth enveloped them instantly—the scent of pine garlands, mulled wine, evergreen, and something sweet drifting from the kitchens. A small gathering of family lounged before the fire: Henry dozing in a chair with a newspaper draped across his lap, Aunt Gertrude knitting something with alarming speed, and Lady Beatrice humming over a stack of wrapped parcels that she insisted were infused with spiritual blessings.
Jillian felt tension melt from her shoulders.
This Christmas would be different.
Calmer.
Quieter.
Peaceful.
Helena deposited Thomas in Henry’s arms—promptly waking him and sending him into a flustered attempt to look both paternal and alert—and then linked arms with Jillian, pulling her toward a small sitting room decorated with evergreen boughs and golden ribbon.
“I want to hear everything,” Helena insisted. “All of London is talking about you two—half of it complimentary, the other half wildly envious. And I want to know whether any of it is true.”
Jillian shot Miles a warning look over her shoulder. He only smiled as he shed his coat.
“I shall leave you two to conspire,” he said, bowing slightly before turning toward Henry to rescue both baby and newspaper from impending disaster.
Inside the sitting room, Helena settled onto the settee with Jillian beside her. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room. Helena’s eyes softened as she studied her sister more closely.
“Jillian,” she said gently, brushing a stray curl from her forehead, “you seem… happy.”
Jillian’s chest tightened with a flurry of emotions she had difficulty putting into words. “I am,” she admitted. “Unexpectedly so. Impossibly so. It feels as though my life has changed so quickly I’m only now understanding how much.”
Helena’s expression warmed. “I thought as much. I’ve been waiting to ask you, but I wanted to see your face first.”
Jillian frowned in confusion. “Ask me what?”
Helena eyed her stomach with deliberate dramatic flourish.
It took Jillian a moment.
Then another.
Then heat flared across her cheeks. “Helena,” she sputtered, “I am not— I haven’t— That is to say, I don’t believe?—”
Helena laughed so hard she nearly dropped a cushion. “I only meant that you have the look about you,” she teased. “The look of a woman whose life is shifting in quiet, profound ways.” She leaned in, voice softening to something almost reverent. “Perhaps next Christmas, you will not be merely Aunt Jillian. Perhaps you will be something more.”
Jillian’s breath stilled. A quiet, secret warmth unfurled inside her—not certainty, not yet, but the possibility of it. The gentle whisper of a future she had scarcely allowed herself to imagine.
When she finally spoke, her voice was soft as snowfall. “Perhaps.”
Helena squeezed her hand, her smile glowing with tenderness. “I knew it. I knew last Christmas something was coming for you. Something good. Something right.”
Jillian blinked back sudden tears. “You were insufferably smug about it.”
“And I shall remain so,” Helena declared, standing as Thomas let out a sleepy wail from the next room. “Come. Let us join the others. Christmas is for family, after all.”
They moved back into the corridor just as Miles stepped from the drawing room, Thomas settled contentedly against his shoulder. He looked up when he saw Jillian, and his expression softened with unmistakable affection. He crossed the distance in three long strides, offering Thomas to Helena with a reluctant sigh.
“Your son,” he said, “has decided he prefers me.”
