Chapter Twelve
Paul made it through the routines of the morning even though his mind was on other things. He checked the fires, made sure the drinks trays were fully restocked with liquor and glassware, straightened a pillow here and there, and wound two of the clocks.
It was busy work, requiring little focus. Which was a good thing, since most of his focus was on his future wife, and their marriage.
It would be fair to add that, being a man, his thoughts also occasionally wandered down paths leading to naked skin and creamy flesh. He couldn’t help that. In fact, he felt rather pleased by the response of his cock which showed a tendency to swell at such thoughts.
Yes, he was definitely ready to claim the new Mrs. DeVoreaux.
However, winding the clocks failed to make time move any faster, and as the morning progressed, the guests began to appear.
“How is your hand this morning, Sir Geoffrey?”
Paul made the polite enquiry from a distance he regarded as safe. If the man’s hand had recovered, he didn’t want it drifting to places it didn’t belong. Like the front of Paul’s breeches.
“’Tis better,” answered Sir Geoffrey, regarding the large bandage with a mournful expression. “But there will be a scar. I know it.”
“I understand scars can hold their own appeal, sir. Perhaps an interesting story to explain it might help. One that would attract interest rather than repulsion.”
“Oh.” Sir Geoffrey leaned back in the overstuffed chair he’d appropriated, next to the fire. “Demmed fine idea, man.” He pondered the notion.
Paul assumed it was pondering. If not, then Sir Geoffrey might have developed some sort of stomach ailment.
“I say. Christmas Eve and everything…” Sir Ambrose sailed in. “What fun have you for us today, Paul?”
I’d chain you all in the dungeon if we had one, but you’d probably enjoy it too much.The ignoble thought flashed through Paul’s mind as he bowed politely. “Well, my Lord, since it is Christmas Eve as you so rightly observed, may I suggest a short walk to gather greenery? We will be lighting the Yule log later, of course, and traditionally the afternoon is spent decorating the hall in preparation for the event.”
“Oh, but my hand,” whined Sir Geoffrey. “Dare I risk hurting it again?”
“We shall see that you are well protected, sir.” Paul attempted a soothing voice. Then instantly regretted it.
“Oh, you darling man. How kind you are to a poor wounded soldier like myself.” That was said with a blush and a subtly fluttered eyelash.
Instead of pointing out that Sir Geoffrey’s resemblance to a soldier was that of a kitten to a rampaging tiger, he merely bowed.
And left the room.
The ladies were descending the stairs as he walked through the hall, and Harriet was behind them. “Has the plan been approved, Paul?” She moved to his side. “I have asked the maids to ready coats and boots and so on.”
He shrugged. “I think the ladies will be the finishing piece of encouragement.” He smiled at Lady Aphrodite. “You are looking well this morning, if you’ll forgive the impertinence, my Lady.”
“I think a bit of fresh air will do me the world of good,” she nodded. “And thanks to Mrs. Harry here, I have passed a much better morning than usual. So I hope to continue that way.”
Sir Farren was coming down behind her. “Good to hear that, my darling. Jolly good.” He came to her side and gave her his arm for the last few steps.
The gentlemen appeared from the parlor, causing squeaks of delight to emerge from the Tisdale twins. One day Paul might be able to tell them apart without help, but until one addressed the other, he was at a loss.
“Shall we be gathering greens, dear Ambrose?”
“Indeed we shall, Hestia.”
Ah. There it is. Hestia in blue today.He could have sworn that Harriet was making the same note in her mind.
“Oh wonderful,” said Phoebe, clapping her hands together with delight.
She did that a lot. Probably practiced it in front of her mirror. Paul admonished himself for uncharitable thoughts. They were all going out and wouldn’t require more than a footman or two and a couple of maids.
“I believe the cloaks are ready, and we do have some warm wraps if you feel a little extra coverage might be needed.” Paul looked out the window. “However, the sun is beginning to shine, so maybe your cloaks will suffice. But perhaps with the addition of stout gloves. You’ll want to carry some of the lovely greenery, I’m sure.”
