Chapter Sixteen

Preparations began in earnest the day before the planned Twelfth Night celebration. Somehow, the planners had managed to keep their scheme a secret from Lady Jonquil. Robbie had never before considered herself a mischief-maker, and she was rather enjoying having a scheme to participate in. And a Christmastime scheme seemed to her the very best sort.

It was midmorning, and Robbie, Adam, and Lord Jonquil had plans to ride out in the pony cart to gather a bit of greenery for making a Twelfth Night crown. Howard wasn’t able to join them. In fact, he was just then returning from the village with the pony cart, having made a quick jaunt there for a few supplies he needed.

“We should find branches like the ones on the mantel,” Adam said, watching the cart approach with an eagerness that was unusual for him—at least, it had been before coming to Brier Hill. “They are very Christmassy.”

“Christmassy things are rather wonderful, aren’t they?” Lord Jonquil observed. He was holding Adam’s hand, something the boy had permitted so few people to do. Even Robbie wasn’t permitted to do so any longer.

“Do you like Christmassy things, Nurse Robbie?” Adam asked.

I’ll look back on this not-actually-Christmas celebration as my favorite Yuletide of all. Robbie’s heart leaped about as Howard’s declaration echoed in her mind. “I very much like Christmassy things.”

The pony cart reached the spot where they were waiting. Howard doffed his hat to all of them but offered a subtle wink to Robbie. He truly did mean to keep doing that, it seemed. She didn’t mind in the least.

He alighted and placed himself at the pony’s head. “I’ve kept the beast to a sedate pace, Lord Jonquil. The animal should have vigor enough for your greenery gathering.”

“You have our thanks. Ours is a very important mission.”

“I know it is.”

Lord Jonquil lifted Adam up into the cart, then climbed up onto the bench and took up the reins. “I assume you’d not object to seeing Miss MacGregor settled on the bench.”

“No objection in the least.” Howard grinned broadly.

With Lord Jonquil in control of the pony, Howard made his way to where Robbie stood. Her heart flipped about more and more each time she saw him.

“I wish I could wander about with you, looking for greenery,” he said.

“I know you’ve work to do. And we’ll see you this evening when we undertake preparations in earnest.”

His eyes moved to Adam. “As I’ve promised, Your Grace.”

Adam offered a very proper and undeniably regal nod.

Howard looked to her once more. “Until this evening, Robbie.” He held out a small fabric-wrapped bundle. “And, until then, here’s something to make your day brighter.”

He’d brought her a gift? “What is it?”

“Something I’m told you’re fond of.” Another wink. “Open it as you’re driving out, enjoying nature.” He handed her up onto the pony bench.

“Thank you,” she said. “For whatever this is.”

“You’re quite welcome.”

A moment later, the cart was on its way. Robbie watched Howard for as long as she could see him. How quickly her heart had grown fully attached to him.

“What did Mr. Simpkin give you?” Adam asked.

“I don’t know. I haven’t opened it yet.”

“He said you were supposed to open it while we were driving out in search of greenery.” Adam spoke quite seriously. “It would be ridiculous not to open it.”

Robbie held back her amusement. “I’d not wish to be ridiculous.” She untied the bit of twine holding the fabric together, the bundle sitting on her lap. She peeled back the fabric to reveal inside a small plum pudding. “Oh, lovely.”

Adam’s eyes grew wide. “He remembered.”

“Remembered what?”

“I told him, when we were digging in the garden, that you liked plum pudding. And he remembered.”

Her dear, darling Howard. He remembered.

***

Howard finished his work for the day as quickly as he could manage, then proceeded directly to the guest bedchamber where Adam and Robbie were staying during their time at Brier Hill. He had promised to help the little boy and his nursemaid finish their preparations.

He paused on the threshold, watching Robbie interact with her little duke. She offered patient encouragement as Adam lay on the floor, doing his utmost to keep a toy top spinning. He wanted it to spin far longer than it was. Robbie assured him he would get the knack of it soon enough.

Keeping quiet so he wouldn’t disrupt them, Howard slipped inside the room. He’d brought some supplies with him for making a shovegroat board. The coachman had given him a discarded bit of wood. Growing up, Howard and his brothers and sisters had played shovegroat in the dirt. It worked far better on something smooth like wood. And he suspected Adam would enjoy making the game board.

He didn’t set down his supplies quite as quietly as he’d walked, and that brought attention to him. He smiled at Robbie. He then dipped his head to Adam. He never quite knew how to interact with the boy. He was a duke, yes, but he was also a child.

“I thought of a game we might enjoy playing on Twelfth Night,” Howard said.

“If the king or queen decides to.” Adam had latched on to that aspect of the celebration very quickly.

“Of course,” Howard said. “But, in case our monarch does decide on this game, we need to prepare the shovegroat board.”

Adam shifted his position from lying on his stomach to sitting on the floor. He looked at Howard with his characteristic authoritative curiosity. “What is a shovegroat board?”

“It is simple, really. I’ve already sanded the wood so it’s smooth. There will be horizontal lines painted across the board at an equal distance from each other with numbers beneath each line. Those numbers are how the game is scored.”

Adam twisted and got on his feet, crossed to where Howard was, and eyed the blank board. “There aren’t any numbers or lines.”

Howard nodded his acknowledgment. “We need to do that part. Since we planned to do our Twelfth Night preparations this evening, I thought we could paint ourselves a shovegroat board too.”

“I don’t want to do that,” Adam said. He tended to tuck himself behind forcefulness when he was unsure about something.

“I’m certain Mr. Simpkin’ll show you how,” Robbie said.

“What about the Twelfth Night crown?” Adam asked. “We were supposed to make that tonight.”

“There’ll be time enough,” Robbie said. “We needn’t make any special decorations or gather presents. Twelfth Night does nae call for any. It is, in fact, traditionally when the Christmas greenery is removed.”

That angled Adam’s dark brow with disappointment. “Do we have to take it down? Since it isn’t the real Twelfth Night?”

Robbie set a hand on his shoulder. “Would you like to have the greenery remain?”

In a voice a bit smaller and a little less certain than he often employed, Adam said, “I like it. It smells nice.”

“Evergreens and herbs and flowers smell divine,” Howard said. “It’s one of the things I like best about gardens.”

“Maybe that is why Lord Jonquil likes gardens,” Adam said.

“Perhaps,” Robbie said. “Gardens are very peaceful. I think many people like them because they help when we’re sad or overwhelmed or sorrowing.”

Adam seemed to ponder that.

“What would you like to tackle first?” Howard asked. “We can begin with the crown, or we can begin with the shovegroat board.”

“Can Nurse Robbie help us with the board?”

“Of course,” he said. “I don’t think either of us would want to do something she wasn’t part of.”

Adam didn’t seem to know whether he approved of that sentiment. Howard hoped he was making some headway in convincing the child to trust him and accept that he hoped to be part of Robbie’s life even as she was becoming less a part of Adam’s.

The boy climbed into the armchair beside the side table where they would be undertaking their tasks. He was drowned by its size, and yet, somehow, he didn’t seem out of place. He was an odd combination of child and grown-up.

Howard offered Robbie the other chair. At first, she seemed as if she meant to object, but he did not relent.

“I spend my days standing and walking about,” he said. “I like it. Given the choice between sitting and being on my feet, I always choose the latter.”

That seemed to convince her, and she sat.

“These are the tools we’re going to need to make our shovegroat board.” He slid over to them the lead pencil, paint, and paintbrush he’d brought. “Are you familiar with shovegroat, Robbie?”

She nodded. “A family I worked for ten years ago or more enjoyed the game. You chose well.”

He tossed her a mischievous look. “I know.”

Her eyes met his, a warmth filling them. “It seems we both have good taste.”

“Can the board have more than just lines and numbers?” Adam asked, studying the blank surface.

“It surely can,” Howard said.

“We should paint holly and ivy on it,” Adam said. “Since it is for our Twelfth Night celebration.”

“A bonnie idea, that,” Robbie said.

She helped Adam undertake the task of creating the shovegroat board. He was quite happy to draw the lines on the board using the pencil but initially resisted the task of painting until Robbie made him do it grudgingly. Howard hoped that someday Adam would find enough confidence in himself to take up new and unfamiliar things more willingly.

It was a pleasant half an hour creating the board. He felt certain that if any of the adults were crowned monarch of Twelfth Night, he or she would choose this game so their little duke could enjoy the fruits of his labor.

Once the board was finished, Robbie set it very carefully atop the tallboy, where it could safely dry. She then gathered the supplies for making the crown, the greenery they’d gathered with Lord Jonquil that afternoon. Pressing work in the garden had prevented Howard from accompanying her in the task, and his heart had dropped completely into his boots as searing disappointment had filled his chest at losing the opportunity for a few extra minutes with her. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt discontented while surrounded by nature.

“You managed to procure some twine,” he said as Robbie set the supplies on the table.

“Lord Jonquil and I stole it,” Adam said. “We pretended we were highwaymen. We had to be very stealthy to get it. And I wore my black sash.”

It was good to hear the boy talk about being imaginative and a touch silly. The look of relief on Robbie’s face told Howard she, too, was grateful to see her dear duke being a child.

Howard gently curved the evergreen branches, holding them together while Robbie and Adam took turns using twine to tie them. Once they created a full circle of branches, the task turned to beautifying the thing.

“I don’t know where this is supposed to go,” Adam said, holding up a sprig of rosemary.

“There isn’t a proper place,” Howard said. “You can put it wherever you’d like.”

Adam shook his head. “There are proper ways to do things.”

“The proper way, in this instance,” Robbie said, “is however the person creating the crown chooses.”

“I don’t think that should be a proper way. Someone might make a mistake and he wouldn’t even know.”

Howard had realized fairly early on that Adam was a bit shy. He was beginning to realize this tiny duke was quite a lot anxious.

Robbie showed herself adept at reassuring him while not allowing him to rest on his laurels. She helped him have confidence without encouraging him to be arrogant or overbearing. Howard doubted many people could manage the balance.

Ever since Robbie had explained her dilemma, Howard had assumed their difficulty was finding a way to convince Adam that all would be well if Robbie left. He’d begun to fear he had misunderstood the problem. Rather than preparing Adam for Robbie’s departure, it might very well be that Howard needed to wrap his mind around the necessity of her remaining.