Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

25 December

C hristiana stretched and yawned. For the first time in years, she had slept through the night. As a child, her mother had always commented how she slept so soundly, nothing but the house on fire could wake her. But after her wedding, sleep had evaded her. Most nights, she woke and sat by the fire. Reading a nice dull text sometimes helped to make her lids heavy once again. Other times, Constance would hear her and bring some warm milk.

This morning, she threw back the counterpane, her toes scrunched on the plush wool rug as she slid off the mattress. The sun was just peeking through the slit in the drapes, and she pulled them back, enjoying the pinks and purples melting together on the horizon.

“You’re bright as a ray of sunshine this morning,” said Constance, coming from the small connecting room where she slept. “Did you sleep well? I was afraid after meeting with Lord Page, you might be even more restless.”

She shook her head. “I feel like I could conquer the world. I cannot remember the last time I was this refreshed.” Christiana whirled to face her maid, her long waves trailing around her. “A new day. What surprises await us, do you think?”

Her maid laughed. “I like this new mistress of mine. Is this what you were like when you were a girl?”

Christiana considered, her lips in a pout. “If I remember correctly, yes.” Then she beamed at Constance. “I believe this may be my last party. I shall achieve my goal and leave the past where it belongs—in the past.”

“Very fine advice, my lady. Now, drink your chocolate before it gets cold while l brush your hair.”

As she sipped her sweet drink, her body humming to life, she went over her time spent with Lucius in the kitchen. She had missed him. His face was like a shining beacon of happiness, reminding her there was still joy in the world. When she woke this morning, the heaviness blanketing her, a constant companion, was lighter, easing its weight upon her shoulders. Did she have Lucius to thank for that? The next few days would tell.

***

Late afternoon after attending church, Lord and Lady Elwood arrived with two trunks. “We’ve accepted your generous offer to stay, my dear,” called the viscountess from the steps of the carriage. She pulled her fur-lined cloak together with one hand and extended the other to her husband, who waited on the ground to assist her. The feather on her hat bobbed up and down as she descended. “I’ve been at sixes and sevens wondering what the challenge would be today.”

The butler ordered the footmen to retrieve the luggage, and he showed the couple to their shared room. When they returned to the drawing room, Christiana was serving tea. “Lady Winfield,” asked Lord Elwood, “my wife and I were discussing this… unusual venture last night. We wondered if I was the only one to participate, or if my wife could take my place on occasion?” His dark-brown eyes held hope while he rubbed the back of his neck. “Act as one, in a sense.”

She studied his round, ruddy face, then nodded. “I will allow it.”

The viscountess clapped her hands. “Lud, this will be entertaining. What is on for today?”

“First, we light the Yule log.” She took the tinder box from the mantel. Kindling had been arranged under and on top of the huge log. The smoky scent soon blended with the aroma of pine and rosemary.

As the flames licked at the thin sticks and branches, she turned back to her guests. “Since it is Christmas, we will play parlor games. A game of whist between four, then one game for the winning partners to decide who will gain a point for the day.”

“Shall we put a bit of coin on the game to make it more interesting?” asked Lord Frederick in a bored tone.

“Because this entire scheme isn’t remarkable enough?” asked Lord Page.

Christiana had almost forgotten his dry wit. Lucius had dressed in a festive red-and-black pinstripe waistcoat with black trousers and a black coat. His brown hair was combed back, the light from the windows highlighting the golden streaks. Her heart skipped a beat when he stared at her unapologetically, a corner of his mouth kicked up a tiny bit in an almost-smirk.

Lord Frederick rolled his eyes, and Lord Bentson rubbed his hands together, his faded hazel eyes coming to life. “It’s been awhile, but I was quite the man at the table when I was younger. Would you care to partner with me, Lady Winfield?”

She hid her grin when the older man’s suggestion caused Lucius and Lord Frederick to gawk at one another in horror. “I will sit this one out, my lord, so we have an even number.”

The elderly man turned to the Elwoods. “Who is the chosen player between the two of you?”

“I am,” said Lady Elwood. “He’s never had much luck with cards.”

“Then will you do me the honor of being my partner?” he asked, wiggling his thick gray brows.

“I’d be delighted.”

“Bollocks,” muttered Lord Frederick, rubbing his paunch as if he’d had a bit of spoiled beef.

“As much as I’d like to win, I want him to lose more,” Lucius whispered in her ear as he passed her on his way to the table. “Unless you tell me otherwise.”

She pressed her lips together, not allowing the sigh to escape from the warmth of his breath against her neck. “Best out of three?” she asked the group instead.

The guests murmured and nodded in agreement. Cups of wassail were passed around while Christiana and Lord Elwood pulled up chairs to sit near the players. At one point, as Lucius decided which card to start the round with, Lord Frederick kicked his partner under the table, followed by a wide-eyed look across the pile of cards.

“Was that a spasm, you imbecile, or did you mean to kick me?” asked Lucius, the incredulous expression on his face almost comical. “And what’s wrong with your eyes? Are you in pain? Constipated?”

This sent Lady Elwood into a fit of giggles, Lord Bentson chuckled and slapped his knee, and Lord Frederick’s face was so red, Christiana was sure steam would erupt from the top of his head.

“I think he was trying to tell you he has trump,” Lord Elwood said in a loud whisper, a hand covering one side of his face, then snickered.

The first game went to Lady Elwood and Lord Bentson, an embarrassing whitewash with Lord Frederick and Lord Page receiving no points. Christiana almost felt sorry for Lord Frederick, knowing he would never win with Lucius as his partner, and knowing he could never prove the loss was deliberate.

Lucius and Lord Frederick barely won the second. “Hounds teeth, Page, how do you manage to win at White’s and play so miserably here?” asked Lord Frederick, his jaw clenched. “Pay attention, will you?”

“Why, my lord, how rude. Did your mother teach you any manners?” Lord Page gasped, assuming an innocent expression. “I can only imagine it is my partner’s lack of skill.”

Lord Frederick’s icy blue eyes narrowed. “Don’t antagonize me. You’ll be sorry.”

Lucius chortled, apparently not the least concerned. “Are you threatening me?” His hand went to his chest, his eyes toward the ceiling. “Without my sister here to defend me? Heaven help us.”

“Gentlemen, we have a game to focus on,” intervened Lord Bentson. “You can argue outside rather than in front of the ladies—after we’ve soundly beaten you.”

The third was taken with ease by the first couple. “If I didn’t know how competitive you were, I’d say you lost on purpose,” grumbled Lord Frederick, casting a sour glance at Lucius who only continued to grin.

“We all have bad days,” he answered with a shrug.

Bentson slapped his knee. “Dash it, but I haven’t enjoyed myself so much in years. My thanks, Lady Winfield, whether I get the vase or not.”

“What vase?” asked Lord Frederick. “I’m here for a horse.”

“And I’m here for a piece of hunting property that butts up to mine,” said Lord Elwood.

“It’s no wonder the poor dear is hosting this competition with so many dunderheads pestering her.” Lady Elwood winked at Christiana. “What is your heart’s desire, Lord Page?”

He grinned, picking up on the viscountess’s innuendo. “I’ll keep my personal desires to myself. But as far as this contest, I’m representing a merchant from London for two slate mines in Wales.”

“What will Lady Elwood and I have to do in order to declare a winner tonight?” asked Lord Bentson, sinking slowly into a leather chair before the hearth. “Please, no needlepoint. My eyes are terrible for any close work, though my spectacles are in my room.”

“Heavens no.” Christiana gave a pointed look at a shallow silver bowl near the wassail. “A bit of snapdragon. Whoever pulls the most raisins from the flaming brandy.”

“Oh-ho!” cried the elderly man with glee. “Not much feeling left in these old digits. I’m afraid I’ll have a leg up on you, Lady Elwood.”

“It’s neither here nor there,” she answered good-naturedly. “It’s all about the playing, not about the winning.”

“So says the woman with nothing to lose,” mumbled her husband.

Carolers from the village arrived and sang several of Christiana’s favorites, including “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.” They shared the remaining wassail after several lovely songs. After dinner, Lord Bentson was true to his word and won snapdragon. Lady Elwood pulled three raisins from the fiery bowl and announced she was too delicate to continue. This sent her husband into guffaws, and Lord Elwood proceeded to snatch two more of the raisins, giggling with each pull and smacking his lips as he chewed the tiny plump fruit.

“One point to Lord Page for billiards and one point to Lord Bentson for whist and snapdragon,” declared Lady Elwood. Her cheeks were pink from the wine at dinner and the wassail.

“Please thank your cook for a delicious meal,” said Lord Bentson. “The goose was roasted to perfection. And the plum pudding…” He rubbed his belly. “Well, I ate too much of it if that tells you anything.”

“She’ll be pleased to hear it.” Christiana gave Lucius a side-look. She had been so curious as to why he had come that she hadn’t asked about his family yet. Tonight, while they… What challenge did he have planned for her?