“I dinnae answer to you, Mistress Gallagher, so stop your caterwauling.”
Sebastian hissed. “Och, I dinnae think I can rescue him now, lass.”
His impersonation of Helena’s dear Scottish servant was very good. She had never mastered the brogue herself, but Sebastian even had Fergus’s forbidding glower perfected.
Helena’s ten-year-old sister entered the library and retrieved a book from the shelf, as if the two adults in the foyer weren’t screaming at each other. “They are quarreling again.”
“We heard,” Sebastian said, releasing Helena from his embrace. She smoothed her skirts.
“What are they fighting about today?” she asked.
Rolling her eyes, Gracie plopped into the seat Sebastian had vacated. “Fergus and I went hunting for mistletoe.”
“Mistletoe?” Sebastian raised a dark brow. “Now, that sounds intriguing.”
Gracie nodded. “Ismay said it isn’t Christmas until the mistletoe is hung, and I want it to be Christmas now.”
Gracie had been following Helena’s lady’s maid around like a pup ever since their arrival at Aldmist Fell. Born and raised at the estate, Ismay knew all the best places to explore, making her the smartest person to ever be born, in Gracie’s eyes.
Another silence fell over the foyer, stretching out much longer than before.
Sebastian tipped his head. “We should intervene.”
He entwined his fingers with Helena’s, leading her from the library.
Gracie tossed her book aside and hurried to catch up, giggling in anticipation of what Sebastian had up his sleeve this time. Helena’s husband was full of mischief and usually provided ample entertainment for the household.
As they approached, they found Edith and Fergus locked in a death stare at the drawing room threshold opposite the library.
“At least they are quiet,” Helena murmured.
Gracie giggled.
Fergus’s hand rested casually on an upper rung of the ladder he’d used to hang the mistletoe, but his ruddy complexion hinted at anything but calm. Even the tips of his ears, peeking through his mop of brown hair, glowed pink.
Edith, for her part, showed no signs of intimidation by the hulking Scot or his fierce temper. With her fists planted firmly on her ample hips, she faced him with fire burning in her blue gaze.
Her spectacles had slipped down her slim nose, and she peered at him over the wire rims. If she shook her finger in his face, Helena wouldn’t be able to maintain her composure.
What a picture they presented!
Sebastian cleared his throat, and the servants turned their heads in unison. As soon as Edith realized she had Sebastian’s ear, she threw her hands in the air.
“This addle pate took Gracie into the woods with a firearm in his possession.”
“The lass was perfectly safe,” Fergus grumbled, his fingers curling tightly around the ladder rung as if he were reining in his temper.
“Fergus is a capable marksman,” Gracie said.
“Thank you, Miss Gracie.” A corner of Fergus’s mouth slanted up in a smirk, which only seemed to infuriate Edith further.
It was silly for them to argue over the girl, as both were very fond of her. Edith—having lived with Gracie and Helena’s sister Lavinia before Helena found and reunited with her four sisters—might have known Gracie longer, but Fergus was completely wrapped around the girl’s finger. If Helena’s sister insisted on hunting mistletoe with him, he would have found it hard to deny her. He had always been just as helpless to say no to Helena.
Sebastian released Helena’s hand and crossed his arms, tilting his head as if assessing the situation. He nodded slowly.
“I see your point, Edith. The man is clearly an idiot of the first order.”
Helena gasped. “Sebastian!”
