The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection (42 page)

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Authors: Patricia Kiyono

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BOOK: The Patricia Kiyono Christmas Collection
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Yes, Edward mentioned
something to her about financial losses. Apparently he made some
investments that didn’t prove to be profitable. The losses weren’t
that great, but it was enough to send her packing.”


Ah. Well, I’m sure you
will be an excellent substitute for your brother. But I hope you
will save a dance for me.”

 

~~~~

 

Amelia and her
lady’s maid Jeanne entered the foyer of Bartlett
Manor, gazing at the somewhat shabby splendor. Here and there, she
could see places where it was evident that renovations were
underway. Amelia’s artistic mind whirled as she imagined homey
touches she would have added.
Over here is
a nice spot for a comfortable seating arrangement. This room needs
new draperies and perhaps a more calming color on the
walls.

Utley, the butler who had let them in, took
their cloaks and bowed. “I shall inform His Grace you have arrived.
Please wait here,” he instructed, gesturing toward a pair of
comfortable chairs.

She was about to sit when
she heard a rustling of skirts. Absently, she looked up and then
blinked when she recognized the maid. “Mrs. Crabtree. How nice to
see you.

The woman turned at Amelia’s greeting, and
her face lit in a wide smile. She rushed forward and held out her
arms to Amelia but stopped short and dropped into a curtsey
instead.


Oh, Miss Par— I mean, Lady
Amelia, I can’t thank you enough for bringing the good duke into
our lives. ’E told me you was a real lady, not just a miss — oh, I
knew it was so, the way you was always so proper-like. Anyway, ’e
got me this job doing the laundry ’ere, and when I had trouble
travelin’ from Cheapside, ’e moved our whole family ’ere to this
house. Little Bertie is gettin’ his lessons from the valet, Mr.
Townley, and the duke’s own physician is seein’ to my Arnold. I
fear ’e’ll never be able to walk again, but ’is sight is gettin’
better, and ’is spirits are risin’ each day. Oh, my lady, the duke
is a true godsend!”

Amelia offered her congratulations, and Mrs.
Crabtree returned to her duties. Left again with her thoughts and
the silent Jeanne, she paced. Today was the day she would tell
Phillip about her other life — that of a writer. What would his
reaction be? Would he be disgusted? Worse yet, would he demand she
stop writing before their association continued? Or would he accept
it and encourage her, as he had done with her efforts to help
educate the poor children?

She didn’t think she could bear it if he
rejected her other life. Over the last few weeks, he had become so
important to her. Who would have known that a duke could be so
compassionate for the poor? He’d been so wonderful with the
children from the first day he’d visited and had returned several
other times to help. He’d listened patiently, interested in their
stories, and his big, strong, capable hands had guided theirs as
they’d written their letters on the slates he’d bought for
them.

He’d been wonderful with the parents, too.
True to his word, he’d helped the Crabtree family. Learning that
Bertie Jones was a chimney sweep, Phillip had promptly hired his
services and arranged for several other adults to assist with
repairs to the manor.

The handsome duke was fast becoming her
life. But writing was her life, also. She had stories to tell, and
she enjoyed writing. She had to be honest with him, and if he
rejected her, she would be devastated. But she would carry on.
Alone.

She heard the click of a door opening, and
then he was there. His handsome face broke into a smile, and he
reached out to take her hands.


Good morning, Lady
Amelia.” He cast a teasing glance at Jeanne. “And I see you have
brought a suitable chaperone for your visit to my home.”


Good morning, Your Grace,
and thank you so much for your generous offer to supply books to
the children. They will make wonderful Christmas gifts, and I know
they will be appreciated.”

Phillip executed a half-bow. “It’s my
pleasure, Lady Amelia. Let’s go to the library and you can assist
me in picking them out.” He turned to Jeanne. “Please come in with
us. Lady Amelia mentioned you enjoy reading. Feel free to browse
whatever shelves you like. Perhaps you’ll find something to your
liking.”

Amelia, followed closely by Jeanne, walked
behind him down the hall to a wide set of doors, which he opened
then gestured for them to precede him. They stepped through the
threshold but stopped in awe.

The Peartree library was nearly as large as
most ballrooms Amelia had seen. Bookshelves covered nearly every
inch of the walls, and each shelf was packed to overflowing with
books.

It was Paradise.


Er, it might be easier to
select the books if you stepped a little closer to them,” Phillip
murmured from behind them.

Prodded back to the present, Amelia stepped
into the room. She started to peruse the shelves to the right of
the doorway. Jeanne went to the left. Phillip followed Amelia.


The children’s books are
over here,” he said as he guided her toward the window.

She walked with him to the bookshelf,
preparing herself for what she had to say. “Your Grace—”


Here are some nice books I
enjoyed as a youngster,” he told her, pulling them off the shelves.
He stopped when he reached a well-worn volume. “This one was my
favorite. I’d like to keep this one — for my own children,” he
added, casting her a heated gaze.

Children with
Phillip.
What an incredible thought. She
took a deep breath and scrambled to recall the line of
conversation.


Oh, yes, Your Grace. You
must surely keep your treasured volumes for your own family.” She
cleared her throat. “What about some of the adults? Do you know of
some easier books or magazines they might enjoy?”

Phillip turned back to his bookshelves.
“Yes, I had thought about that. I remember some adventure stories
my brother and I enjoyed when we were young. The vocabulary in them
might be easy enough for beginning readers.”

Quickly
, she told herself.
Tell him now,
before you lose your courage
. “Your Grace,
I have some books I’ve written myself. I — write love stories. I’m
going to give some of them to the women in the group.”

The duke said nothing, but he continued to
peruse the books on the shelves.


I hope you’re not appalled
at my vocation. I know my brother would insist I stop if he knew.
But I’ve enjoyed a measure of success, and I’m actually starting to
make some money from sales of my stories.”


This is not good. I can’t
believe it.”

Not good?
He’s not willing to accept my writing?


I know I saw those books
just last week. Perhaps I set them aside already.”

She didn’t understand. Wasn’t he going to
reply to her admission? Or was his ignoring it tantamount to a
dismissal? She was used to that. Edward tended to ignore her
whenever he disagreed with her, and her father had done the same.
She’d expected different behavior from Phillip.

She sighed. Well, if that was how he was
going to react, perhaps it was better for her to limit her
interaction with the handsome duke. She’d best be on her way as
soon as possible.

Somehow, she managed to remain cordial as
they finished selecting gifts for the children. But as soon as they
were finished, she hurried with Jeanne to the door, not answering
his reminder about the Kringles’ Christmas Ball.

 

~~~~

 

The chapel was
abuzz with activity. Garlands of pine adorned with
flowers and ribbon cascaded from every wall sconce, and similar
decorations brightened the candelabras on two long tables. Robert
supervised a group of servants carrying in a large table and
benches. Jeanne stood with another group, ready to set the table
with plates, cups, and napkins.

Amelia directed the production in the center
of it all. She didn’t look at him, but her senses were all too
aware of Phillip as soon as he entered the room.


Everything looks lovely,
Lady Amelia. I know the children will be delighted with your
efforts,” he said near her ear.

His warm breath sent a delicious shiver down
her spine. Would he always have that effect on her? No. She had to
be strong. If Phillip couldn’t accept her as a writer, she couldn’t
afford to encourage him.

She took a deep breath and pasted a smile on
her face before turning to Phillip. “Thank you, Your Grace. This
couldn’t have been done without your generous contributions.”


It was my pleasure,” he
replied. “Now, how can I be of assistance?”


Hmm. Perhaps you could
help place the gifts on the table with the candles and fir
boughs.”

Phillip nodded and set the gaily wrapped
packages in place.

As the light from the windows faded, Robert
and several others lit the candles, casting the room in a soft,
magical glow. All was ready.

The guests started to arrive. Some of them
came in boisterously, excited at the promise of food and gifts.
Some came in timidly, as if expecting to be disappointed. But
children and parents alike gasped with pleasure as they beheld
their transformed schoolroom.


Mama! Look at the
beautiful decorations! Just like in the story Miss Partridge read
to us! And there are presents over there!”

There was a mad rush for the gift table, but
Amelia blocked their way. “Children, there will be plenty of time
after we’ve had dinner and a story. Let’s take our places at the
table. Parents, please come and sit with us.”

Benches scraped the stone floors as they
were pulled back and the families settled themselves. All stared
expectantly at Amelia.


Welcome, everyone, to our
Christmas gala. We have a marvelous feast for you this evening. But
first, perhaps His Grace would like to offer a word of
thanks?”

All heads swerved to Phillip, who had bent
to retrieve a child’s spoon that had fallen off the table. Robert,
standing beside him, touched his arm and spoke to him softly. The
duke cast a terrified glance toward Amelia, and she wondered if she
should have consulted him first.


Er, yes, of course.” He
bowed his head dutifully, and everyone else in the chapel followed
suit. “Thank you, Lord, for this food we are about to receive. And
for — for our friends all around us this evening. And — and —
Christmas. Thank you especially, for Christmas. Er,
Amen.”

As the room echoed with a resounding,
“Amen,” a parade of servants entered, bearing platters of roast
goose and mincemeat. Others carried trays of goblets filled with
cider. The food was set before the stunned guests. Several people
looked to Amelia as if waiting for permission to eat.


Please enjoy the meal,”
she insisted.


But, Miss Partridge,
aren’t you and the duke goin’ ta eat?” asked one of the
adults.


Of course we will, later.
But you’re our guests now.”


Tain’t right,” insisted
another. “We can’t eat before you.”


Oh! Well, all right,
then,” she conceded, taking a spot between two of her students.
“We’ll be happy to dine with you.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that
Phillip had taken a spot at the other end of the long table. Good.
She could enjoy her dinner without having to look into those
soulful blue eyes.

 

Chapter Nine

Edward Partridge
adjusted
his sleeve as he descended the
staircase to the front foyer. Seeing a flash of yellow, he called
out to Amelia’s maid, “Jeanne, is my sister nearly
ready?”

The figure in the yellow dress paused, and
then spun around to dip into a curtsey. “My lord, Lady Amelia has
decided not to attend the ball. Perhaps you would like to speak
with her?”


Blasted women. One can
never rely on them. I told her I needed her to make an appearance
with me at the Kringles’ Christmas Ball. Bartlett will probably be
disappointed, too. It seems he’s taken quite an interest in her. I
suppose he’s one of the few men who could put up with her chatter
and preposterous ideas, since he can’t hear anything she
says.”

Jeanne’s head popped up, and she stared,
momentarily forgetting protocol. “Can’t hear, my lord?”


Hunting accident at Eton.
His gun misfired, and he ended up losing most of his hearing. I
understand he’s a top-notch lip reader, but if he can’t see your
face, he doesn’t know what you’re saying. Nice fellow. I wouldn’t
have minded him as a brother-in-law. But knowing my sister, he’s
probably better off.” The earl, having settled the matter in his
mind, called for his valet and left for the ball alone.

 

~~~~

 

Amelia stared at
the nearly empty page on her writing desk. The
love story she’d been working on no longer held any appeal. Even
the thought of romance left a bitter taste in her mouth. Still, she
had told Doctor Jones the next story would be completed soon, so
she’d better get it done. Edward would be annoyed with her for not
attending the ball, but she simply couldn’t risk the temptation to
speak and dance with Phillip. One glance in his enticing blue eyes
and she would lose her resolve. There was no point dreaming of a
future with someone who couldn’t accept her calling as an
author.

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