“And that’s when I reread your letters.” He cleared his throat. “I wanted to be sure I had never done anything like that to you.”
“Never,” she whispered.
“That you hadn’t stayed away because you feltthreatenedby me.”
“No, Robert,” she assured him.
“Because there have been times in the past few years when I have felt such frustration, I used to punch the damned pillows on my bed,” he admitted. “So I joined a boxing saloon, where I can punch large bags of sand instead.”
“Oh,” she breathed, reaching for one of his hands to grip it in hers. “Because of something I said? Or something I did?”
“Because Imissedyou, damn it, and I didn’t know what to do to get you...” He couldn’t go on, not when her other hand had moved to pull his face to hers, not when her lips captured his in a kiss that had him pulling her onto his lap and continuing it as if his very life depended on it.
This time, she was sure it did.
When she finally let go to take a breath, Robert stared at her for a full second before blinking several times. “Well, I do believe this Yule log is working,” he murmured.
Ivy let out a nervous titter. “Indeed,” she agreed. They sat in companionable silence for a moment before she added, “Perhaps it’s time we share it, though.”
Robert’s sigh sounded his reluctance before he finally called out, “Graves!”
The butler hurried into the hall. “My lord?” He gave a start when he saw the two of them perched on the Yule log, the countess sitting across the earl’s lap.
“Have all the servants join us,” Robert ordered. “I understand some consider it good luck to sit on the Yule log before it’s rolled into the fireplace,” he said. “Then we’re going to light this log and hope it doesn’t set the entire house on fire,” he added with a grin.
“Yes, my lord.” Graves disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.
Robert helped Ivy to stand before he rolled down his sleeves and stood. “I feel entirely underdressed,” he murmured, even though he was only missing his top coat.
“You look fine, darling,” she said, brushing the back of her gown with a hand before shaking out her skirts. “Do I look as if I’ve been tumbled?”
He let out a guffaw. “Just you wait, my lady,” he said in a warning.
Ivy allowed a wobbly grin and then stood on tiptoes to kiss him again.
Robert gave a start. He would have continued to kiss her, but four maids, Perkins, the laundress, the cook and the scullery maid, a driver, and the groom had joined them in the hall. When they were finished lining up in a semi-circle, they collectively curtsied and bowed.
“If you believe in such a thing as good luck, which I do, by the way, now is your chance,” Robert said, waving to the log.
He and Ivy stepped aside and watched as the servants took turns sitting on the Yule log, Tom and Anne doing so at the same time, as did Bobby and Christina. After everyone had a chance, the male servants joined forces to roll it into the fireplace, nearly extinguishing the existing fire in the process.
“Time to light it,” someone said.
“Would you like to do the honors?” Robert asked, turning to Ivy. “You’re far more familiar with this tradition than I am.”
“Oh, I think you should do it, Ritchfield,” she said, “But first you’ll need the leftover piece from last year’s log.” She rushed to the fireplace and, reaching behind the spray that had been draped across the mantel, she extracted a charred piece of wood.
“I wondered why that was there,” Robert murmured when he joined her. “I nearly tossed it into the fireplace.” He aimed a look of feigned shock at the servants, who grinned at seeing his antics.
“Good thing you didn’t, or we wouldn’t have good luck this year.” She gave him the wood.
“Luck?” he repeated, holding up the charred wood. “This little piece of charcoal is supposed to bring luck?”
Ivy gave a shrug. “It’s for continuity,” she explained. “We use a piece of last year’s log to light this year’s log.”
“Very well.” Robert turned to address the servants, who were once again lined up in a semi-circle. “I had quite forgotten how many people worked here at Ritchfield Park,” he said after clearing his throat. “I won’t keep you. I know you’re quite busy with preparing food and cleaning and whatnot,” he added. He turned to Ivy. “Her ladyship has asked that I do the honors of lighting this log from last year’s remnant.” He touched the candle’s flame to the charred wood until it lit. Carefully lowering it into the fireplace, hetucked it against some kindling at one end of the Yule log, and within seconds, flames erupted from the base of the large log.
The servants cheered and applauded.
