“A swan, sir,” she said.
Ah. Imagining herself graceful and beautiful? Strangely, she had looked both though she was not a pretty child. But she would perhaps grow up to resemble her mother.
“With this cloak,” he told her, “I believe I would make a magnificent crow.” He spread his arms, grasping the edges of his cloak with his hands.
There was a little wobble of a smile at the edges of her mouth.
“Shall we see whether the swan or the crow flies the faster—and the more gracefully?” he suggested.
“Yes, sir,” she said and turned to climb the slope silently beside him. The countess stood below, holding Tess.
The crow flew faster though far less gracefully. And it did not reach the bottom—at least, not propelled by its billowing black wings. It tripped over its top boots halfway down and rolled clumsily the rest of the way, roaring with alarm. Rachel was smiling, he could see as he got to his feet and brushed himself off. The younger child was giggling helplessly in her mother’s arms.
“I believe,” he said, “the swan won on all counts.”
“You did it on purpose, sir,” Rachel accused, but her eyes were bright with merriment.
“I?” He raised his eyebrows. “I have murdered my boots, for which my valet will scold me roundly. Would I do such a thing deliberately?”
But he had interfered in the family outing for long enough. “I have to return to the house for a dancing lesson,” he said. “Do continue playing.” He made them all a bow.
But Rachel took a step toward him. “Dancing?” she said, and he could see suddenly from her luminous eyes that she would indeed inherit her mother’s beauty. “Oh, sir, may I come and watch?”
“Rachel!” the countess said sharply even as his eyes flew to her face. She closed her eyes briefly and set Tess down on the ground. “His lordship is busy.”
“But not too busy to allow of an audience,” he said. “If you will permit it, my lady.”
She bit her lip.
“Ifyouwill permit it,” he said again quietly. “Not otherwise.”
“Please, Mama!”
“I believe,” he said, “it is the minuet that is on the agenda this afternoon—not the waltz.”
“I will bring both children to watch, then,” she said. “I shall keep them out of your way, my lord. Rachel has a passionate interest in dancing, though she has been told repeatedly that it is—” She bit her lip again and did not complete the sentence.
Frivolous? Evil? Ungodly?Whohad first told her that? Gilbert? Christina? Both?
“Allow me to escort you back to the house, then,” he said, offering her his arm.
She looked at it, and he thought for a few moments that she would refuse to take it. But she did so and began to walk with him. Rachel walked silently at his other side. The younger child skipped along ahead of them, humming to herself.
A family group, he thought. Or what would look like a family group to a stranger. He and Christina—Gilbert’s widow. And Gilbert’s children. They had nothing to say to each other, he discovered, he and the Countess of Wanstead, though it took them all of ten silent minutes to reach the house.
He was an outsider.
And had no wish to be an insider, surely.
Chapter 6
ALL had been made ready for the arrival of the house guests four days before Christmas.
A number of extra servants had been hired. Every room in the house had been swept and dusted and polished until it sparkled. Every bedchamber had been prepared and assigned. All the extra leaves had been added to the dining room table so that it extended to its fullest possible length. Great quantities of food and other supplies had been ordered and what had already arrived had been stored away—or already cooked. Crates of wine and other liquors had been hauled into the cellar. One sitting room, which had almost never been used for the past ten years, had been restored to its original function when a crew of hefty servants carried down the old billiard table from the attic and set it up for two maids to clean. The attic had also been denuded of boxes of toys that had been deemed unsuitable for girls and had therefore never been brought down for Rachel and Tess. The nursery had been filled with these new treasures and the adjoining rooms set up as children’s bedchambers. Even the wintry park had been raked clear of leaves and other signs of neglect.
There was really nothing left to do except await the arrivals, Christina thought finally as she wandered from day room to day room after luncheon. And change her clothes, of course. Indeed, Aunt Hannah and Margaret and even the earl had already gone to their rooms in order to get ready.
She recognized a reluctance in herself. A reluctance, perhaps, to begin what she had worked hard for during the past week. Life had changed so much already. It would surely change even more drastically in the coming days. There was a certain attraction in the thought, she was forced to admit. She had loved her come-out Season and yet that had been years ago. She had been only a girl. Life had been so very quiet since. And so very dull, a deep inner voice added.
