Lady Crenshaw's Christmas (2 page)

He stroked her hair for a moment or two more then asked, “Is there one thing that troubles you more than the others?”

Again, Ginny nodded her head, her cheek rubbing against the smooth cloth of his pantaloons.

“Your present misery couldn’t be due to the tender love and care afforded you by that sweet old lady in there, could it?”

Ginny sat bolt upright and treated her husband to a scathing look.  “If she is sweet than I am positively dripping with honey!”

Chuckling, Anthony brushed a tear or two from his wife’s face.  “Generally, yes, you are, even if not at the moment, though I must confess I was twitting you about Grandmama.”

“Oh,” Ginny said, feeling a bit foolish.  They sat side by side in silence until Ginny felt able to put her feelings into words.  “It’s just that I can’t seem to do anything right.  If I say yes, she says no.  If I choose blue, she wants green.  If I ask for more she insists we must get by on less.  She makes me want to gather my unborn child in my arms and run as fast and as far as can be.”

“And leave me behind?” Anthony cried in mock horror. 

“Well, no, I suppose not,” Ginny said, a reluctant smile curving her lips. 

“I hadn’t realized it was as bad as all that,” Anthony said, his expression grave.  “I would never have chosen to live here if I didn’t think it was what you wanted.”

“Oh, I did!” Ginny insisted, taking his hand and pressing it against her cheek.  “Truly I did.  Only, I thought that perhaps she would soften with time.  Instead it seems that she has become more and more of a fussbudget.” 

Putting his free hand to her other cheek, he tilted her face until her line of vision met his.  He rarely gazed on her so long without succumbing to a round of kisses but it seemed that his mind was filled with other thoughts for he didn’t so much as drop a kiss onto the tip of her nose. 

“What is it?” she asked, suddenly afraid.  “What is wrong?”

Anthony released her and gave her a half-hearted, crooked smile, one she had never before seen.  It lent him a vulnerable air with which she was totally unfamiliar. “Everything.  Nothing is right if you are unhappy,” he said quietly, almost as if his admission caused him shame.   

Ginny felt hot tears spring to her eyes and spill over her cheeks.  She had caused him pain and it hurt more than if it were her own.  “Perhaps it is just the babe, after all.  I have been told that this can be a very trying time, both in body and mind.  I suppose many expectant mothers indulge in a fit of the vapors now and again.”

“Doubtless you are right,” Anthony said, reaching up his hand again to rub the tears from her face with his thumb.  “But I don’t have to like it, do I?” 

“No,” she said with a shaky laugh.  “I don’t suppose you do.  However, I’ve heard tell that once you cradle that babe in your arms, it is all worth it.”

“For me, perhaps,” Anthony said with a broad smile, “but what of you?”

Ginny laughed, feeling her heart lighten.  “Never you fear, I expect it will be exactly the same for me.”  Determined to put a stop to her husband’s anxiety, she rose to her feet and smoothed her skirts.  “I really should be off to finish the instructions for the servants.  There is so much to do, yet, for the ball, you have no idea!”

“I will have a fire lit in your room and we can work on the lists together.”  He rose to his feet and tucked her hand in his arm so as to ease her way up the stairs.  “I shall inform Grandmama that I will have the final say on all of the decisions and that she needn’t bother with them.”

“So I might do as I wish?” Ginny asked, her heart filled with hope.

“Yes, absolutely!  I have utter confidence in you.  Besides, this will give you experience for the next ball or rout or card party, whichever you want.”

“Oh,” Ginny groaned.  “Not another party, not for a long time, yet!”  With some trepidation she noted the twinge of pain in her side with every step.  “I am so tired and with months still to go.  I expect I shall have to keep to our rooms between New Year’s and spring.”

“Never,” Anthony said as he lifted her into his arms with reassuring ease.  “I intend to have you by my side everywhere I go.  As you are as light as a feather, babe or no babe, there’s no reason to keep you above stairs, hidden away like a diamond in a jewel box.”

Ginny longed to serve him a tart reply, something along the lines of how much weight she had gained on account of the sweetmeats and goodies with which he had indulged her, but her heart was beating much too wildly, a circumstance that pleased her to no end.  Who knew one’s husband could cause such disorder of the senses after more than six months of marriage?  

Once they gained the top of the stairs, he set her down and regained possession of her arm.  “Ginny,” he said, his voice thick with a sentiment she wasn’t sure she wished to identify.  “You wouldn’t really leave me, would you?” Pulling her to a halt, he turned to face her, the look in his eyes full of the same emotion she heard in his voice.  “Even if your life with me becomes somehow unbearable, you wouldn’t just . . . go.  Would you?”

Once again his pain was much harder to bear than any of her own.  She wondered if it would be the same with their child or if this shared ache was something known by only a husband and wife.  Putting her arms around his neck, she pulled him close and whispered in his ear words meant for him alone.

And, at long last, he kissed her.

Chapter Two

Fingers shaking with excitement and more than a little fatigue, Ginny donned her new ball gown and examined herself in the mirror.  Was it altogether
de trop
?  She was the first to admit that red velvet was a bit bold unless it lined a jewel box.  Turning this way and that she felt sure the dress did indeed hide her pregnancy but it also seemed somewhat bare about the neck.  The long, naked expanse simply cried out for a circlet of rubies.   Was that not an appropriate gift for a man to give his bride their first Christmas together? 

There was only hours left until the ball.  Should she wait patiently for a small box to arrive or go through her jewel box to find a suitable necklet of something else?  But what?  Pearls?  Diamonds?  She felt they were both so bland, yet emeralds seemed far too farouche as they would compete with the color of her gown. 

Feeling slightly ashamed at her expensive expectations, she consoled herself with the thought that Anthony had indeed dropped any number of hints.  Lady Avery, a regular caller despite her clear disdain for Ginny’s lack of a title prior to her marriage, had also implied that jewels were exactly what any respectable husband gave his wife, especially those who were with child.  Hadn’t Lady Avery’s earl gifted her with a diamond tiara, a ruby ring, an emerald necklace as well as sapphire eardrops, when he learned he was to become a father for the first time?  Of this Ginny was quite sure, as Lady Avery had worn them,
ensemble
, no less, on any number of occasions when she came to call.

Rubies or no rubies, Ginny must hurry if she were to ready her gift for her husband.  Removing her gown with the help of her abigail, Ginny quickly changed into the first comfortable gown that came to hand and hurried down to the library to search for what she needed.   Finding her husband ensconced by the fire, she nearly cried out in vexation.  Instead she took a deep breath and suggested her husband might be needed elsewhere.  “After all, you have been noticeably absent from the house for most of the day. It’s high time you did something to help,” Ginny scolded.

“I was off in the woods shooting down mistletoe and have set the parlor maid to making up more kissing balls,” he replied, his tone wickedly calm.  “One is hardly enough,” he added, “if I am to claim as many kisses as I expect.”

“Anthony!  Tell me you didn’t?” Ginny cried, barely noticing her husband’s flirtation.  “I gave her explicit instructions to help with decking out the ballroom!”

“Done!  In point of fact, there is nothing left to do, making you utterly free to sit down and join me by the fire,” he said, patting the spot next to him on the sofa.

Ginny, frantic to have him gone before time ran out, put her hands to her hips and gave him her sternest look.  “I need you out from under my feet!  Your grandmama is no longer young and would doubtless benefit from the observances of a silver-tongued lad such as yourself,” Ginny insisted.  “But don’t spend too long with her.  The last time we dressed up for anything but dinner, the tying of your cravat took the better part of an hour.” 

“I would have thought you had more than enough to do to prevent you from spying on a gentleman when at his work,” Anthony grumbled, rising to his feet.  “And whilst we are on the subject of attire, please do relieve my anxiety and tell me this is not the gown you intend to wear to the ball!”

Ginny looked down at herself and laughed.  “I suppose my old night rail with the ink stains isn’t exactly ballroom fare.”

“I should say not!  Pray tell your new gown is arrived and perfect in every way?”

“Yes, yes!” she said, laughing and pushing him towards the door.  “Everything will be lovely, I promise!”

She waited until he started up the stairs then, quick as she dared, pulled the door to and locked it.  She then went to the bookshelves and began her hunt.  The volume she was after fell into her hands far sooner than expected, whereupon, she sat at the desk, opened the book and began to write.

In no time at all she was making her way up the stairs, contemplating when she would appear at the top, dressed in all her finery, heart beating fast in anticipation of that moment when Anthony, waiting for her below, would look up at her with that heart-melting expression, the one she couldn’t quite name but that always made her blood sing. 

Entering her room, her thoughts full of waltzing in the arms of her husband, Ginny was taken aback by the sight of a small box with a jaunty, red bow placed, just so, on her bed.  “Oh,” she whispered. “You darling man!”  She pulled the ribbon and lifted the lid to reveal not a necklet but a veritable collar of stunning rubies set in diamonds.  There was also a pair of matching eardrops.  With shaking hands, she pulled a scrap of paper from the bottom of the box and was surprised to read: 
Happy Christmas to my dearest Ginerva, your devoted Grandaunt. 

Hearing a knock at the door, she opened it to reveal the old duchess, herself, who wasted no time on formalities but opened her budget without a word from Ginny.  “They are splendid, are they not?  I wore them to my first Christmas ball, as did the Duchess of Marcross before me.  They have been at the jeweler this age as the setting needed re-doing.  The old one was a fright and not at all suitable for the flimsy fashions of today.” 

“Oh, Grandaunt, thank you so much!” Ginny cried.  “They are just exquisite and will put my new gown to shame.”

“Well, yes,” Grandaunt agreed, “and they are just the thing to draw attention away from that bump of yours.”

Ginny had to laugh in spite of her indignation.  “Grandaunt, I do believe you are absolutely correct!”

“They have an added benefit in that they are sure to put more than a few noses out of joint!” Grandaunt said with a sniff.

“Oh?  Whose, pray tell?”  Anthony had warned Ginny time and time again against horrid gossip but she could hardly let such a leading comment go unquestioned.

“First off, that annoying Lady Avery with her affected airs and propensity for wearing every jewel she has, and for morning calls, no less!  She will pester her husband to have a set of rubies just like these, mark my words!”

“Poor Avery,” Ginny said.  “He hadn’t the slightest notion of what was ahead for him when he married Lucinda.  Is his the other nose you mentioned?”

“No, I was referring to my daughter by marriage, the new duchess.  Those rubies are entailed and by rights belong to her.  Only, I am not ready to give them up,” Grandaunt said, her own nose in the air.  “She’ll be as mad as a hornet when she sees them.”

Ginny felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.  “Perhaps I should not wear them, after all.  If unwanted attention from both Lady Avery and Her Grace is what I can expect. . .”

“There, there, Ginny, you mustn’t be downcast!  You are sure to be tormented by them either way.  You will bear it better whilst sporting the most magnificent jewels this side of the English Channel,” Grandaunt insisted. 

Ginny lifted the necklace with its trio of ruby and diamond pendants and held it up in the candlelight.  “They are so very beautiful.”  A new thought prompted her to ask, “But what of Anthony’s gift?  Perhaps he has purchased a necklace to match my new gown?”

“Never fear, my child, he is utterly aware,” Grandaunt said, placing her withered hand on Ginny’s smooth-skinned arm.  “He must be exhausted, poor boy!  He was up at the crack of dawn so as to claim these and get them back here in time for the ball.”

“My poor Anthony!” Suddenly the gift Ginny had planned for her husband seemed woefully insufficient.  Feeling more let down than a young bride about to give her first ball had a right to be, she rang the bell for her abigail.  Grandaunt Regina took herself off to change into her own ball gown and, Ginny assumed, Anthony was in his rooms submitting to the ministrations of his man, Conte. 

Ginny spent the next hour in a fever of anxiety.  Not even the donning of her gown, hose and dancing slippers, nor the new hairdo, a complex confection of curls and braids woven through with a red satin ribbon, could distract her from her worries.  Would there be enough candles to allow a lady to recognize her dancing partner?  Were there too many so that every sleeve and headdress was at risk of dragging through a flame and setting a lady or two alight?  Was it a bit too much to adorn each ledge and frame with holly?  Would there be enough food?  Had the orchestra arrived in plenty of time to set up before the guests arrived?