A Christmas Kiss (16 page)

The snow started again before noon and fell heavily and steadily for the next three hours, covering the landscape with a thick blanket of fluffy whiteness. The sight pleased everyone, with the possible exception of the twins, who were unconditionally refused permission to go out and play in the drifts. Freddie, whose earache had disappeared, leaving him with only a mild case of the sniffles, was still considered “under the weather” and had to stay indoors. Teddy, though exhibiting no signs of sickness, was similarly imprisoned until, his mother said, she could be sure that he had not caught the illness from his brother.

But Clarissa could not help noting that the rest of the household was surprisingly and delightfully cheerful. Even Sally, who yesterday had shown unmistakable signs of boredom, was vivacious and utterly charming. She had broken in on Philip in his study and had managed to coax him out to join the party for luncheon. It had been a very merry meal, with Jamie making jokes, Marianne in such good spirits as to actually have uttered several full sentences to the group at large, and Sally teasing and flirting shamelessly.

Even the house had an air of cheerfulness. Holly wreaths had already been placed on all the mantlepieces, and delicious smells were emanating from the nether regions, where all sorts of delicacies were being prepared for a splendid Christmas dinner. Clarissa herself felt more cheerful, now that she and Gervaise had had it out. Nothing was solved, and the problem still loomed before her, but she had managed him so far and, with a little luck, she felt confident she could do so again.

After luncheon, Philip and Edward had ridden out on horseback through the snow to find a tree from which they would cut a huge Yule log for this year's festivities. They would choose a tree of appropriate height and width, cut it down, trim it, tie a rope around it, and bring it back to the house by dragging it along the ground between them. It would be kindled on Christmas Eve by first lighting a piece of last year's log, which had been saved for this purpose. It was a ritual the whole family enjoyed. Clarissa was afraid that Jamie had felt a bit of resentment when he was asked to surrender to Edward his place in the search for the tree. But Jamie didn't seem to mind. Instead, he had offered to teach Marianne how to play billiards, and that pastime seemed now to be occupying them quite happily. Clarissa was therefore free to spend the afternoon in making plans with the housekeeper and cook. Her guests were doing very well without her.

Clarissa was unaware that one guest at least was less than happy. Reggie had put a good face on it, but things were going hard with him. After luncheon Jamie had asked him to help teach Marianne to play billiards. Reggie refused. Jamie couldn't understand it. “Why not?” he demanded. “What else do you have to do?”

“I … er … have thomething to do in my room,” Reggie told him, and turned to go.

But Jamie restrained him. “What on earth have you to do there?” he asked. “It's too early to pick out your waistcoat for dinner.”

“I have other wayth to thpend my time,” Reggie declared proudly. “I don't need to uthe all my time to confer with my valet.”

Jamie eyed him suspiciously. “Well, then, what will you do?”

“Private buthineth.”

“Private business? Do you take me for a flat? What private business?”

“If I tell you, it will not be private.”

“Since when do you have private business you can't tell me about? You're doing it much too brown, Reggie. Something's amiss, and I'm going to get to the bottom of it.”

Reggie capitulated. Jamie was his best friend, after all. “I doubt you'll believe me, but I'm going to my room to read.”

Jamie gaped. “To what?”

“You heard me. To read.”

“To read? A book?”

Reggie glared at him. “What elthe would I read? A recipe for mushroom and kidney pie?”

“Cut line, Reggie! Do you expect me to swallow a whisker like that? I've never seen you read a book in all my life!”

“I'm reading one now.”

“Then tell me the name of it!” Jamie challenged.

“
The Life of Jonathan Wild
or thome thuch title. Very interethting, really. About a magithtrate who ith thteeped in corruption.…”

“Spare me, please. I've heard enough for one day. Reading a book!” Jamie shook his head, unbelieving. “You must be
sick
!”

“Take a damper, Jamie,” Reggie said threateningly. “Remember that I can flatten you when I've a mind to. And you are not to tell anybody about thith. If you breathe a word, you'll have to anthwer to me, even if you
are
my betht friend.”

“Do you think I have windmills in my head? No one would believe me anyway.”

“Good. Then we have nothing to worry about.” And he turned and walked off down the hall.

Jamie went to the billiard room much shaken. That Reggie should have turned bookish was an occurrence a man could not take lightly. He would have to look into this problem, and soon.

Evalyn had spent the early part of the afternoon telling the twins a story while spooning hot soup down Freddie's throat. Now, with everybody in the household busy at various amusements and occupations, she found a few hours before her to spend as she wished. She put a last coat of lacquer on her
papier-mâché
box, and as she looked up from that completed task, the sight of the fresh snow on the gardens below made her yearn for the outdoors. She donned her thickest boots and her one sturdy cloak, and made for the front door. As she crossed the wide front hallway, Philip and Edward clumped in, laughing and shaking the snow from their boots and hats.

“Good afternoon, Miss Pennington,” Edward greeted her. “Come out and see the enormous log we've prepared for the Christmas fire.”

Before Evalyn could reply, the library doors opened and Gervaise emerged, yawning. Philip pointed to him and laughed. “Look at what you've done, Edward. For shame! Your crowing has awakened our lazy friend from his afternoon nap.”

“Not at all,” Gervaise declared, unperturbed. “I had already awakened when you two burst in the door.”

“A likely tale. Many's the afternoon I've had to rouse you and send you on your way with barely enough time to dress for dinner,” Philip teased.

“Balderdash. Don't listen to him, Miss Pennington. He has a hidden, nasty streak, which makes him enjoy cutting up the reputations of even his oldest and dearest friends.”

Evalyn laughed, but couldn't resist coming to Philip's defense. “It must be a well-hidden streak,” she said, “for I've never seen the least sign of it.”

“Oh, well said,” purred a female voice behind her, and all eyes turned to find Sally poised gracefully on the stairway, a vision in wine-colored kerseymere. Clarissa stood just behind her, smiling benignly at everyone.

“Ah, there you are, Edward,” Clarissa said. “I hoped you had returned. Your wife has been asking for you. She has developed a crick in the back of her neck and claims that only you know the trick of setting it right.”

Edward sighed a patient, long-suffering sigh. “Yes, I do. After all these years of matrimony, there's scarcely a problem which I've not developed the trick of solving.” He handed his coat to a waiting footman and, making a little bow, hurried off up the stairs.

“Philip, my dear,” Sally said invitingly, “I've come for
you
. We are organizing a game of billiards, and I need a partner.”

“Thank you, but I should not be an asset to you. It's been years since I handled a billiard cue.”

“Never mind that. I am expert enough for both of us,” she countered smoothly.

“You must excuse me, I'm afraid,” Philip said, unbudgeable. “I have some rather pressing matters which need attending to.”

The color rose in Sally's cheeks and her eyes glinted; nevertheless, she managed to smile. “Very well, then, I'll have to persuade Gervaise …”

“A much better choice than Philip, if I do say so myself,” Gervaise said with aplomb. “I'm a far better billiard player than anyone you're likely to find within a hundred miles.”

“Spoken with truth and appropriate modesty,” Philip said smiling.

Gervaise climbed the stairs, took Sally's arm, and tucked it under his own. “Come, my dear, let's go and defeat the enemy.” And he led her up the stairs, giving Clarissa a saucy glance as he passed her by. Clarissa favored Philip and Evalyn with an amused shrug, then followed the billiard players up the stairs.

Evalyn tied the strings of her cloak, lifted her hood, and started toward the door. Philip, shrugging out of his coat, looked at her in surprise. “Do you mean to go out, Miss Pennington?”

“Why, yes.”

“But not alone, surely?”

Evalyn smiled. “I'm not a schoolroom miss, Lord Gyllford. Surely I'm old enough to take a little walk unattended.”

“I see you have relapsed into formality and are calling me Lord Gyllford again.”

“But did you not, a moment ago, call me Miss Pennington?”

“Did I? I apologize, but I will not be put from the point. Why is Jamie not keeping you company?”

“Jamie?” she asked in surprise. “Why on earth should he?”

“Surely he cannot like to see you spending so much time alone. If you will postpone your walk for a minute or two, I'll find him. I'm sure he'll be delighted to keep you company on your outing.”

“I won't hear of such a thing,” Evalyn said, shocked. “Disturb Jamie merely to accompany me on a little walk? I'll not go at all, if you think my walking alone is improper, but I wouldn't for the world have Jamie's billiard game disturbed.”

“You young people are indeed a puzzle to me,” Philip said, shaking his head in perplexity. “But of course, there is nothing improper in your taking a little walk by yourself, if you're sure you want to.”

“Yes, I do. I love fresh-fallen snow. I've been wanting to get out in it all afternoon.”

“Then of course I won't prevent you,” Philip said. Evalyn made a quick curtsey and turned to the door. “Wait, Miss Pennington,” he called after her. “I wonder … would you object to
my
company?”

“Of course I wouldn't, if I had not just heard you say that you have pressing business to attend to.”

Philip grinned guiltily. “You listen to me too carefully, my dear. I admit to you, on the expectation that you'll not give me away, that I have pressing business only when asked to play billiards.”

Evalyn smiled, but shook her head. “You are being kind, I think. I cannot feel easy thinking that my silly walk is taking you away from more urgent matters. Please, sir, if my walking out alone troubles you, I shall gladly stay indoors and think no more about it. I'd be very grateful if you can do the same.” And she quickly untied the ribbons of her cloak.

Philip went to her, took her hands from her cloak, and tied its ribbons again. “We are both being overzealous and foolish, I think. You shall certainly have your walk, and alone if you wish it so. I only ask you to believe that I would truly enjoy joining you, if you will have me. You're not the only lover of new-fallen snow, you know.”

He was looking down at her earnestly, with the glow of warmth in the back of his eyes that had, at least twice before, caused her heart to lurch and her spine to turn to jelly. She said nothing, her throat suddenly too constricted to permit her to speak. “Well, Evalyn,” he asked with his endearing grin, “may I come?”

She nodded shyly, and he turned and signalled to the footman who had retired discreetly to the stairway while they spoke. Before she'd caught her breath, he had put on his many-caped greatcoat and, leaving it unbuttoned, with his muffler hanging untied from under its collar, he had taken her hand and led her out the door. The air was crisp, and a light wind blew the powdery snow into their faces. They came down the steps and walked along the curved avenue. Philip glanced down at her. “Are you sure that light cloak is enough?” he asked.

Evalyn cocked her head and looked at him askance. “I begin to think, Lord Gyllford, that you would make a better governess than I. Your overwhelming solicitude quite befits the profession.”

Philip threw back his head with a shout of laughter. “I do sound like a clucking old hen, don't I? Very well, Miss Acid-Tongue, not another solicitous word will you hear from me.”

“Good, my lord. It will be an immeasurable aid to our future conversation.”

“There it is—‘my lord' again. Why do you suppose, Miss Penn—Evalyn, that we find it so difficult to call each other by our Christian names?”

“I'm not sure,” Evalyn answered slowly, giving the question more serious attention than Philip had intended, “but I think it may be that our inequality of rank makes it difficult for us to be comfortable together as friends.”

His smile faded, and he turned to her almost angrily. “What nonsense! Do you think I see a
governess
before me every time I look at you? What a pompous fool you must think me!”

“Not at all,” Evalyn answered in the calm, reasonable voice he so much admired. “But you can scarcely expect us to forget completely the very great gulf that our so-different stations in life have built between us.”

“I would forget your so-called ‘station' completely, if you didn't keep reminding me,” he stated flatly. “You must try to be a little less belligerently
poor
, my girl, and try to accept the truth of what you really are.”

“What am I but a governess, and an unemployed one at that?”

He grasped her by the shoulders angrily. “I could shake you! Can you truly believe that the word ‘governess' has anything to do with the you that I—that anybody with eyes—must see when we look at you?”

Evalyn stared up at him. “I have no idea wh-what you see when you look at me,” she said breathlessly.

His anger was instantly dissipated by the ingenuous look in her eyes. “A lovely girl,” he said quietly, “a warm, witty, serene, kind, lovely girl. Will you remember that?”