“It will be better in a moment,” she assured him.
But there was no point in taking any further risks even though she set the foot back to the ice and smiled bravely at him.
“I do not want to spoil anyone’s fun,” she said, her large eyes suddenly bright with unshed tears.
“Nonsense!” he told her. “You will spoil everyone’s fun only if you insist upon making a martyr of yourself. Look— the bonfire has been lit and the chocolate brought down from the house.” And on his instructions broad logs had been drawn up as close as possible on three sides of the fire, so that they might sit in some comfort to remove their skates and consume their hot drinks. “We will go and warm ourselves and you can rest your foot.”
“I can sit there alone, my lord,” she assured him as he guided her slowly toward the bank. “You must come back and skate longer. There are other ladies who would welcome your escort, I am sure. You cannot possibly wish to skate only with me—or to sit beside me and watch everyone else. It has been selfish of me to take all your time.”
“Nonsense!” he said again briskly, stepping up onto the bank and bending down to scoop her up into his arms and carry her across to the fire.
But they were not the only ones leaving the ice. The fire and the arrival of the chocolate pots were enticing some. Others had realized there had been an accident and came to inquire.
“I was attempting to skate alone,” Lizzie explained gaily. “I had already taken too much of Lord Wanstead’s time. I would have fallen and perhaps broken a leg but for him— silly me. But he came skating after me and saved me.” She bit her lip as he unstrapped the skate from her right boot though he did so carefully without moving the foot. “Oh dear, I fear I must have sprained my ankle. How fortunate for me that his lordship was unwilling to let me leave him.” She winced—and smiled bravely with watery eyes.
She would not hear of spoiling everyone’s enjoyment by allowing the earl to take her back to the house immediately. Her ankle would surely be better if she but rested it and warmed it at the fire, she insisted. But after they had all drunk their chocolate and were warm again inside and out and had sung some Christmas carols at Laura Cannadine’s suggestion, it was clear that the ankle really had sustained some damage.
“If you will but give me your arm to lean upon, my lord,” Lizzie said, “I shall contrive quite well.”
But he could not allow her to walk the distance to the house. She was no featherweight, but he had grown accustomed to heavy manual labor over the years. He instructed her to set her arm about his neck and carried her home. She talked cheerfully the whole way to the rest of the party, raising her voice and protesting that the accident had been entirely her own fault and not at all his lordship’s. Indeed, but for his devotion in following her when she skated away from him, her injuries might have been considerably worse.
“How romantic it is,” she said gaily, “to have such a sturdy champion.”
He was very glad—for more than one reason—to reach the house at last. But of course he would carry Miss Gaynor all the way up to her room, he insisted when she told him in the great hall that he must set her down. She laughed merrily and looked back at everyone else as they stripped off scarves and gloves and hats.
“And no one is to be naughty and accuse us of doing anything improper,” she said, raising her voice again to carry over the hubbub of noise. “Billings will send for my maid and my mama to come to my room immediately, will you not, Billings?”
The earl’s eyes met Christina’s across the hall and he raised his eyebrows in mute appeal.
“Of course no one would say or even think any such thing, Miss Gaynor,” she said with all her usual cool dignity. “We have far too high an opinion of your integrity. Lady Gaynor will come without delay when she hears of your mishap, I am sure. In the meantime I will come up with you and see that you are made comfortable and have everything you need.”
The earl half smiled at her as she swept past him and through the stairway arch. He followed her with his heavy burden.
Chapter 15
THE guests assembled an hour earlier than usual for Christmas dinner, which was to be taken in the state dining room. It was a very splendid setting indeed, everyone agreed. Christina, gazing about the table, remembered words that had been spoken to her that morning—It is Christmas. Let us enjoy it. We are both in need of some good memories, I believe.
All day she had tried consciously to enjoy each passing moment. She had tried to store away memories.
In some ways neither was difficult. This was Christmas as she had never celebrated it before. With the exception of Lizzie Gaynor’s accident, which had not after all been serious enough to keep her from the dinner table, the day had been perfect. It had seemed that everyone was happy, that everyone was in harmony with everyone else. If there were such things as peace on earth and goodwill among men, they had been found at Thornwood this year.
There were people who were already looking beyond Christmas, of course. There was the earl himself planning to return to Canada during the spring; there was Lizzie, for whom the courtship she had expected was not progressing fast enough, making a determined push to bring it to a successful conclusion; and there was Mr. Geordie Stewart, for whom the New Year was to have more happy significance than Christmas.
Christina smiled as her eyes met his briefly along half the length of the table. Then she gave her attention to Lord Langan beside her, who was telling his table companions about his race horses.
Mr. Stewart was to attend another house party—at his sister’s home in Scotland—for the celebration of the New Year. There was to be a lady guest there, a widow, who had chosen to spend Christmas with her late husband’s family in order to inform them of her intention of marrying again during the spring. She and Mr. Stewart were to announce their betrothal next week. He had confided the news to Christina while they had skated together during the afternoon.
How glad she was that she had given up the idea of courting Mr. Stewart for herself. Mrs. Derby, he had explained happily, had three children, all below the age of ten. He was eagerly looking forward to being a stepfather. Mrs. Derby was a fortunate lady.
Oh, yes, Christina thought as the final covers were removed, it had been a happy day. If she did not look ahead, there was happiness to feel and to hold inside, and numerous memories to carry forward with her. And the day was not yet over. The gentlemen were not to linger over their port this evening. There was the concert in the ballroom to be enjoyed—and enjoy it they would even though it had taken some hard work to prepare and many of them professed to feel nervous or inadequate or both. It was nothing so very out of the ordinary, after all. Most of them were adept at providing drawing room performances for small gatherings.
But dinner was not quite at an end after all. Christina looked along the table, expecting the earl to signal her to rise. But he merely smiled at her and got to his feet, holding out his hands to indicate that his guests were to keep their places. Private conversations ended, and everyone turned his way.
“We have made merry today,” he said. “It has been a happy day, at least for me and I hope for everyone else. I wish to thank you, my friends and my family, for coming here at my invitation and making it a Christmas to remember. And I wish to thank her ladyship, the Countess of Wanstead, for acting so tirelessly and so graciously as my hostess.”
“Yes, indeed,” Lord Milchip said, and led enthusiastic applause.
In a few more days, Christina thought, inclining her head in acknowledgment of the compliment, this would all be over. She would come into this room from time to time and gaze at its empty magnificence and try to remember where everyone had sat for Christmas dinner. She would try to remember the Christmas decorations and the smells of the food. She would try to recall how he had looked, how he had sounded, what he had said.
