The Christmas Carrolls (26 page)

“But it’s nearly Christmas and I haven’t done any shopping.”

“The girls need nothing, now that their husbands are indulging them, and if it’s the boy you are worried about, you’d do better to worry that they are spoiling him past redemption. I’ve never seen so many toy soldiers, miniature swords, games and puzzles and books, in my life.” And that wasn’t including the pile of gifts she’d purchased for him.

The earl took her hand. “But what about you, my dear? I’ve been a sore trial to you, I know. I would get you a gift to make up for that.”

She raised his hand to her lips. “Having you and my family together at Christmas is the best present I could ask for. If I’d lost you...” She couldn’t finish. “And you, what do you want for Christmas, Bradford?”

“Your love is all I’ve ever wanted, Bess.”

“I know, dearest, and you have it, forever.”

* * * *

On Christmas morning Lord Carroll insisted on holding the morning prayers in Winterpark’s own chapel, as the earls of Carroll had done since the family’s beginnings. He walked, slowly to be sure, and on the arms of two of his handsome sons-in-law, to the front of the small chapel, to the chair that had been placed there, the Bible beside it. He saw that the servants were already assembled in the far pews, along with a small handful of houseguests. In the front sat his daughters and their husbands, Holly big with child, Joia with a Madonna-like glow, and Merry grinning with her own supposedly secret news. The earl and Bartholemew were already making book on another little soldier.

Bess hadn’t come yet, but it was Christmas. She had a hundred things to do. And the boy was likely with his tutor. Bradford sighed. He had so much, his heart was so full, he wouldn’t wish for the moon. He started to read the Christmas story, as heads of households all across England were reading it that morning.

Toward the middle he heard a latecomer arrive. Without lifting his head, he knew it was his Bess, the way he always knew when she entered a room. He kept reading.

“Well, I never!” he heard the Duchess of Carlisle exclaim.

And Bess answered, “No, and that’s why you see your son but twice a year. I’m surprised Comfort turned out as well as he did.”

Now the earl looked up, to see his beloved wife take the very front seat in the chapel, light from the stained-glass windows casting a reflected rainbow on her—and on the boy by her side in the family pew. Bess straightened Noel’s neckcloth and placed her arm around his shoulder.

It didn’t matter that tears blurred the page in front of him, Lord Carroll knew the words by heart: “And lo, unto them that day a son was born....”

Copyright © 1997 by Barbara Metzger

Originally published by Fawcett Crest (ISBN 0449225100)

Electronically published in 2007 by Belgrave House/Regency Reads

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This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.