12. Christmas Eve Morning

CHAPTER 12

CHRISTMAS EVE MORNING

T he following morning in the breakfast parlor

“Good morning, Ritchfield,” Ivy said brightly, appearing on the threshold of the breakfast parlor wearing a festive day gown. Her coppery hair was styled in a riot of curls atop her head while one wavy lock rested over a shoulder.

“Happy Christmas Eve,” Robert said, looking up from a newspaper and then quickly standing. From the few items remaining on his plate, it was apparent he had already eaten. “You were up early this morning,” he added, moving to hold her chair for her.

He had awakened to discover he was alone, although the bed was still warm where her body had been. The reminder of her had his morning tumescence tenting the bed linens longer than usual, so it had been almost a relief when Graves appeared to help him dress.

“I always am on Christmas Eve,” she replied, her grin widening into a smile. “Hanging of the greens.” She watched as he retook his seat. “You were up terribly late last night. I hope all is well? ”

Robert leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “I was reading in the library,” he said.

Perkins appeared and placed a salver bearing a small teapot, cup, saucer, and sugar-pot before her and refilled Robert’s coffee cup from a pitcher already on the table.

“What has Clara made this morning?” Ivy asked turning her attention on the servant.

“Almost anything you want, my lady,” he replied. “She cooked a feast for us servants this morn.”

“Then I’ll have toast, coddled eggs, and bacon,” she said.

“I’ll bring them right away, my lady.” He turned to Robert. “Would you like anything else, my lord?”

Robert unfolded his arms and straightened in his chair. “I’d like an orange,” he said.

Perkins’ eyes rounded. “Yes, my lord.”

From the other side of the table, Ivy blinked. “Those are supposed to be for later,” she scolded.

“I heard you brought an entire crate of them with you,” he countered.

She grinned. “I did. Two of them.”

“And that I’ll be receiving an invoice for them,” he added, smirking.

Tittering, Ivy prepared her tea. “This is one of my favorite days of the year,” she said. “I adore how everything looks when we finish with all the greenery. So festive. And the entire house smells so good for an entire fortnight,” she gushed.

“I thought I smelled pine when Graves opened my door this morning,” he murmured.

“I’m sure you did if the servants have started bringing them in,” she said with excitement. “The Yule log, too,” she added, her eyes widening at seeing the breakfast Perkins set before her. “Oh, it’s a veritable feast.”

“As was mine,” Robert remarked .

“Will you help with the greenery?” she asked, before taking a sip of tea. “The sooner we’re done, the sooner we can have an early dinner and begin the dancing in the great hall.”

Robert angled his head to one side as he watched her tuck into her breakfast. “Dancing?” he repeated.

“You don’t have to dance, but the servants will want to. This is one of those festive evenings,” she insisted.

“I thought that was supposed to be the Twelfth Night,” he said in confusion.

“It is, darling, but we celebrate Christmas Eve here as well,” she explained.

His eyes widened when Perkins set a peeled orange before him, the sections splayed out to make it look as if it was a flower with orange petals. “If there’s dancing, then who provides the music?” he asked, using a fork to retrieve one of the orange sections.

She lifted a shoulder. “Well, I’ll play the piano-forté and Mr. Ashton, the groom, will play his violin,” she replied. When he simply stared at her, she sighed softly. “You’ve never done this before, have you?” she teased.

“Apparently not,” he replied, experimentally tasting the orange. “But I’m willing to try.”

Ivy beamed in delight before tucking into her breakfast.

“Did your lady’s maid happen to mention how her evening went last night?” he asked in a quiet voice. “I’m fairly sure she took advantage of your most generous offer of the apartment,” he added, his brow arching.

Her eyes rounding, Ivy said, “Oh, dear. Did they disturb you whilst you were in the library?’

Shaking his head, Robert chuckled softly. “I did not hear them, if that’s what you’re asking.” He almost said something about how jealous he had felt knowing the servants were engaged in lovemaking while he would have liked to have been doing the same thing with his wife. Had he simply gone to bed when he bid Ivy good-night, he might have been doing the same thing.

“Well, I’m glad to hear it because Salisbury gave me the most wonderful news this morning when she was doing my hair.”

“Which is rather lovely,” Robert remarked, surprised when he saw a blush color her face.

“Oh, thank you for saying so,” she replied, her fingers stroking the lock of hair that hung down in front of one shoulder. “It’s probably too daring for London, but we’re in the country?—”

“You should have her style it like that more often,” he said, “Hang London.”

“Ritchfield,” she scolded, despite the grin she displayed. “Well, I’m glad you like it because I have decided I am going to take her back to London with me to be my lady’s maid.”

Robert furrowed a brow, sure there was more to it, but her comment reminded him of their conversation at dinner the night before. “So she accepted your offer of employment?”

“I made mention of it, and she seemed quite pleased with the prospect. But I haven’t made her a formal offer,” she explained.

“Mayhap you could bring her with you to York first.”

Ivy inhaled softly. “Perhaps,” she murmured. “I was going to see to the final arrangements for Watkins’ dismissal?—”

“I can see to it with a letter to your butler and my man of business,” he interrupted.

“I didn’t bring many gowns with me?—”

“We can have her pack up some more of your clothes and have them sent to the house in York,” he suggested. “ Before the butler speaks with her.”

Ivy considered his words before she finally nodded. “All right,” she agreed before her eyes widened. “Oh, I’ll have to let Walker know, what with his new situation. ”

“Your driver?”

Ivy’s eyes rounded. “Oh, I meant to tell you the good news. Mr. Walker and Miss Salisbury are to be married. He proposed last night.”

Seeing the joy on his wife’s face had Robert smirking even as his chest tightened. He hadn’t even been in her company for an entire day, and yet he was reminded of why he had fallen in love with her in the first place.

The red hair had certainly caught his eye back then—how could it not?—the tresses the color of flames and copper in the sun. Then there had been her generous bosom, her rising moons begging to be traced and touched above the neckline of her presentation gown.

But it had been the sheer delight in her green eyes that had truly captured his attention. Whilst every other young lady seemed petrified about the prospect of being presented to the queen, she had displayed happiness.

He had seen that same expression of delight whenever something pleased her, which had his gaze seeking hers from across ballrooms and parlors, Rotten Row and the theatre.

Even after they wed, he had felt challenged to come up with gestures that would elicit the same reaction from her. The gift of a tiny bauble or a compliment on her gown, a soft kiss at the nape of her neck or an open-mouthed kiss when he returned from Parliament.

Wishing to extend her happiness over her new lady’s maid’s announcement, he was about to leave the breakfast table, pull her up from her chair and kiss her senseless, but Graves appeared at the door.

“Pardon me, my lady, but you asked to be informed about the status of the greenery?”

“Yes, Graves. How goes it?”

“The servants have brought everything into the house, and the Yule log is in place on the hearth in the hall,” he stated. “ Perkins has the work table set up in the hall and the trunk brought down from the attic. I believe we are ready to begin, my lady.”

Although he wasn’t so sure his kiss would have been as welcome as Graves’ announcement, Robert couldn’t be too upset when Ivy stood from her chair and displayed an expression of infectious delight.

“Oh, we can start now,” she gushed. She turned her gaze on Robert and said, “Are you coming?”

Tempted to make an excuse—he could hide in his study or the library—Robert stood and took a deep breath. “If you think I’ll be of any assistance, then, I suppose I will join you.”

He was more surprised than Graves when she rushed over to him and kissed him on the cheek. “You’ll want to wear some old gloves, Ritchfield. To keep the sap off your fingers,” she said, hooking her arm into his. “They’ll be in the trunk that Perkins has brought down. And do be careful whilst you’re doing the wiring. The ends are always rather sharp, and I don’t want you impaling yourself.”

“I appreciate that,” Robert replied, giving Graves a beseeching glance as they made their way out of the breakfast parlor and to the workroom at the back of the house.

Usually used by the servants when they were mending, ironing, or folding clothes, the room had been transformed on this day by the addition of a wheelbarrow filled with greenery. Several cutting tools and rounds of wire were scattered about the trestle centered in the room along with gloves of various sizes. “This is where the sprays and wreaths are wired together,” Ivy explained. “The housemaids are working at the servants’ table in the kitchen.”

“What are they making?”

“The bows and other decorations, of course,” she replied. “Oh, and don’t forget to make a kissing bough, if you would. We didn’t have one last year. ”

“I can’t imagine why,” Robert deadpanned.

She gave him a quelling glance. “There’s no mistletoe to be found around these parts, so we must make do,” she explained.

“And how, pray tell, is a kissing bough supposed to look?” he asked, helping himself to a pair of gloves. He experimentally fisted and opened his hand to determine they were a good fit.

“You really don’t do this at Gladstone Hall?” she asked.

“ I do not. The servants see to it,” he replied defensively.

“Well, it’s a small evergreen bough, so you needn’t use a lot of greenery. Just form it into a sort of ball and the maids will see to adding paper flowers and apples?—”

“Apples?”

“Yes. Oh, I brought some with me,” she said.

“Is there any foodstuff you didn’t bring with you?” he asked rhetorically.

“Venison,” she stated without a pause.

“I could maybe see to bagging a stag whilst I’m here,” he offered. “In fact…” He was about to remove the gloves when Ivy placed a hand on his arm.

“It’s far too cold out there, darling,” she whispered, gently squeezing his arm. “Perhaps when it warms up. After Christmas,” she added.

“Oh, all right,” he said, pulling the glove back on. “So what else is going to be attached to this kissing bough? It sounds as if I need to make it big enough so there is room for all the fripperies,” he said.

“Well, one year they made dolls from fabric representing Mary, Joseph, and Jesus and added those to the flowers and the apples.”

Robert scrunched his face into a grimace. “And where exactly does this kissing bough get hung?”

Ivy lifted a shoulder. “In a doorway somewhere. Perkins will see to it. I’ll be sure to lead you there at some point,” she added with a wink.

She didn’t bother to mention that last year, Perkins had hung the kissing bough over the entry to the kitchen and then insisted he be kissed every time a maid had to make her way through the door.

Although it had led to the fallout betwixt Perkins and Graves—Graves had not been amused by the footman’s antics—it had resulted in the marriage of the groom, Bobby, to the housemaid, Christina.

R obert had to resist the urge to counter Ivy’s wink with one of his own. “I shall do my best, my lady,” he said, shoo’ing her out of the workroom.

What had he gotten himself into?