“I do beg your pardon, Miss Trease, but if you have no objections, our footmen need to put up the greenery here before it gets late…”
“Oh yes, that would be lovely, Ferguson,” approved Holly, crossing the room to hold the door wide. “Please have them bring in the fir. I love the scent, and we’ll have our tea by the fire with the aroma of Christmas filling the air.” She turned to the two men. “Don’t you think that is the most splendid idea? Mama and Papa will be joining us as well, I believe.”
“As you wish, Miss Holly.” Ferguson’s lips barely twitched, but Richard caught the glance they exchanged by the door.
“I would love to help,” he said, crossing the room. “Do you trust me with some branches?”
“Of course,” reassured Holly, as several younger footmen carried boughs of greenery into the library. “My apologies for the informality, Mr Blackstone,” she hesitated, “will you be terribly inconvenienced?”
He bowed slightly, managing a less intimidating smile this time. “Of course not, Miss Trease. I will be pleased to assist, if I may. Such seasonal celebrations are always important, are they not?”
Richard, wondering if Blackstone had ever actually celebrated anything seasonal at all, remained silent, but vowed to keep as close to Holly as possible without raising comments.
There was just something about that man that didn’t sit right…
*~~*~~*
The fir boughs were as lush as always. Holly loved the scent, and as the footmen began to hang them in their usual places—over the pictures on the wall, and on the mantel—it quickly became a reminder of the Christmas season that made her smile.
She needed it, since Blackstone’s presence was more than a little disconcerting.
His gaze drifted to her much too often for her liking; all she had to do was turn around and there he was, watching her every move. After a while of this, she reached the end of her patience.
“Mr Blackstone, might I prevail upon you to pass one or two boughs to Richard? He can reach higher than I.”
“Of course,” answered Blackstone, his voice quiet and correct. There really was nothing at all about the man to suggest anything sinister. Just those eyes.
“Thank you, sir.” Richard reached out from the chair he was using as a stepladder, and accepted a bough, arranging it neatly above a painting of some long-gone Trease ancestor.
“Oh, that’s very nice indeed, Richard.” Holly smiled at him, very glad he was there. “You have done this before, I take it?”
He nodded and stepped down, surveying his work. “Indeed yes. My family also enjoyed having the house filled with the sights and scents of Christmas.”
“You live locally, do you, sir?” Blackstone’s tone conversational, his question quite natural.
“Unfortunately no, Mr Blackstone. I reside in London. Business brought me down here, and it looks like the weather will force me to remain for a little longer than I intended,” he glanced at Holly, “that is, if my presence isn’t an inconvenience.”
“Of course not, don’t be silly,” she scolded, passing a beautifully folded ribbon to him, and nodding at the bough. “Tuck that in the middle, would you?”
“Yes, Ma’am,” he replied, doing as he was bid. “Like this?”
“Perfect,” she nodded. “Thank you.”
The sky was darkening, and it was not surprising that Blackstone was the one to find a taper and begin lighting candles. “I see the storm has not abated,” he commented, pausing to look out of the window at the thick flakes. “’Tis good to be indoors on a day such as this. I do not envy anyone still travelling through this weather.”
“I doubt many people are abroad, Mr Blackstone. I am sure our lads knew it was on the way, and took all the necessary precautions.” She tied more ribbons into bows. “We are used to these storms, since the landscape seems to encourage them. But overall, the snow is good for the crops lying beneath the soil, and keeps the river flowing too.”
“Ahh, I believe I saw the river and crossed it at a small bridge over the waterfall, as I rode to Myrtle Manor this morning,” he commented.
“Yes, you would have.” Holly tied another ribbon. “The Ban is a well-known feature of this area, and has been for centuries.”
“Your father was kind enough to show me a map earlier, Miss Trease, so it’s easy to see how important it must have been to everyone in the area.” He paused for a moment. “And it is not hard to notice how much the course has changed over those centuries.”
“Not really that much, though,” Holly frowned.
“More than you might think. I can show you…” He held his hand out toward the map on the wall, and Holly found herself walking toward it with Blackstone at her side.
Aware of Richard stepping down from his chair and following them, she slowed her steps and watched as Blackstone pointed to the bend in the river.
