A Christmas Affair (21 page)

“Oh, capital, sir!” Jeremey answered, relieved. “Thank you.” And they departed happily, their voices fading away as
they hurried up the stairs to their rooms.

“I believe I shall also be retiring,” Stephen volunteered as he rose to his feet. “Amanda, what time tomorrow do you wish to go to the farm?”

“Oh, before luncheon, I suppose” she said, laying a thoughtful finger on her lips. “Amelia has promised to take the boys out in the sleigh, so that should give us more than enough time to get the tree in the parlor before they get home.”

“All right. I shall see you at breakfast, then.” He nodded to both Amelia and Justin before quietly taking his leave.

“A tree?” Justin repeated, glancing at Amanda in confusion.

“An old family tradition from one of my Hessian ancestors,” she explained, recalling her decision to include him in the festivities. “We cut down a small fir tree, bring it into the house, and decorate it with cookies and candles. Would you like to help?”

Justin was about to refuse when he felt Amelia’s hand on his arm. “Please, Justin?” she asked, shyly raising her blue eyes to his. “The children do love it so.”

“Very well,” he relented, reluctant to disappoint the others. “Although I must say bringing a tree into one’s house seems a rather odd sort of custom.”

“No odder than hanging holly or greenery,” Amanda retorted, although she was glad he had given his consent so easily. She’d been so certain at first that he was going to refuse.

“Touché.”
he laughed, inclining his head in acknowledgement. “But at least the holly and greenery serve a purpose. And the mistletoe,” he added, his eyes flicking to the ball suspended from the doorway with a green velvet ribbon.

Amelia’s cheeks flushed at this, and she scrambled hastily to her feet. “I-I beg you will excuse me, Justin,” she stammered, backing away from him, “but I am tired now. Good night,” and she fled as if from a fire.

“Good heavens, I never intended to frighten her,” Justin said, staring after her with amazement. “I was merely making conversation.”

“I am sure she knows that,” Amanda answered, although she was equally as mystified. Amelia was modest and shy, but she was no ninnyhammer. What on earth could have come over her? She was going to be marrying Justin, for heaven’s sake! How could she hope to make a good wife if the very thought of a kiss sent her into the vapors?

That very thought was occurring to Justin, and he found himself wondering if perhaps he might have made a mistake. A chaste bride was greatly to be desired, but one who shrank from intimacy was another thing altogether. He stirred uncomfortably in his chair, clearing his throat before he addressed Amanda.

“Amanda have you ever . . . er . . . that is to say, did your mother ever talk to Amelia about . . . about things?”

Had the matter not been so serious, Amanda would have laughed to see the cool, self-possessed Justin hemming and hawing like an embarrassed schoolboy. But as it was, she could only feel for his concern, and appreciate the delicacy with which he approached the subject.

“My mother had a talk with me when I was a child,” she said, recalling that stilted conversation with her mother. “Daniel and I caught one of the maids with the footman, and poor mama had no choice but to explain matters to us or leave us to draw our own conclusions.” She didn’t add that she’d already had a fair understanding of what was what from having observed the animals in her father’s stable.

“And you . . . explained things to Amelia?”

“Of course,” she said simply, staring at him in surprise. “Daniel performed the same service with Stephen, and would have done the same with the twins had he lived.” She shot him a mischievous smile as a sudden thought occurred to her. “I can only suppose that task will fall to you now that you are to be their guardian.”

“God forbid,” he muttered with considerable feeling. “I think I would rather face a crack troop of Napoleon’s finest!”

“As you are so fond of Shakespeare, sir, I should like to quote him by saying “
Uneasy lies the head that wears the crown,”
or in your case, the mantle of parental responsibility. As you can see, ’tis not an easy task.”

“No,” he said, abruptly serious, “but you have done an excellent job of it. You are to be congratulated, Amanda. You have raised a fine family.”

She flushed, embarrassed as much by his steady regard as by his soft words of praise. “Thank you,” she said, lowering her eyes to the mending still lying in her lap . “It. . . it hasn’t always been easy, you know. I am fortunate the children are all so loving, else I don’t know how we would have fared.”

“You have done a wonderful job,” he repeated, his eyes catching and reflecting the red and golden glow of the fire as he leaned forward to gaze at her. “I can see your influence in Amelia and each of the other children as well. Even Daniel. He was the kind of man he was because of you, and you are to be commended.”

“That . . . that is very kind of you, Justin” she said, putting down the slow warmth washing through her as modesty.

” ’Tis the truth.” Justin’s voice was soft. “I know we do not always see eye to eye, Amanda, but please don’t think it is because I have found any fault in you. I admire and respect you very much.”

“And I you.” Amanda’s reply was equally as soft as she raised her eyes to meet his. “Although I had reservations at the beginning, I . . . I am glad that you are marrying Amelia. She could not hope for a better, more honorable man.”

Justin dipped his head in acknowledgement of her compliment, his expression growing thoughtful as he took in her appearance. She was dressed in a gown of brown merino, trimmed at the collar with ivory-colored lace, and in the glowing dance of shadow and firelight, her burnished hair
shone like polished copper. Her velvet-brown eyes were deep pools of moonlight and mystery shimmering in the oval perfection of her face, and gazing into their ebony depths, he felt his senses stirring in response to her quiet beauty.

The carnal nature of his thoughts brought him abruptly to his feet. “If we are to be up early tomorrow, then perhaps it would be best if I retired now,” he said, walking purposefully toward the door. “Good night, Amanda,” and he left, determined to put as much distance as possible between Amanda and himself.

“I mean it, Stephen.” Amanda’s voice was stern as she fixed her sternest gaze on her brother’s flushed cheeks. “You aren’t to stir from this bed today, and that is final!”

“Don’t fuss so, Mandy; it’s just a little cold,” the teenager protested, wiping his nose with the sleeve of his nightrobe and trying his best to look indifferent. Not an easy task considering how wretched he felt.

Amanda, however, was not swayed by his braggadocio. From the moment she’d been summoned to her brother’s room by the concerned maid, she’d known she’d have her work cut out for her. But after almost losing Stephen to the influenza last spring, she wasn’t about to risk his health over something as inconsequential as a tree. There had to be something she could say that would convince the wretch to stay in his rooms, she thought, tapping her foot impatiently.

“Very well, Stephen, if you are certain you are up to it” she said, as inspiration dawned. “Although I do hope you are right. It would be a shame if Colonel Stockton were made to suffer for your folly.”

“Justin?” Stephen blew his nose vigorously before casting a bleary eye at his sister. “What about him?”

“You know he has only just recovered from the fever and is still quite weak,” she began casually, not wishing to overplay her hand. “Catching a cold now is certain to do him no
good, but if you are insistent upon going . . .” she allowed her voice to trail off meaningfully.

Stephen shifted restlessly in his bed. “Perhaps he won’t catch it,” he said, plucking at the crocheted spread covering him.

“Perhaps, although given the inclement weather we have been having, I shouldn’t be too surprised. There is nothing like this cold, wet snow to settle a heavy cold in one’s chest.”

“Oh,” Stephen replied quietly, his expression growing increasingly glum as he considered his options. For a gentleman of honor such as he hoped to be, there seemed to be only one course open to him. He raised his head and met his sister’s gaze.

“I expect it would be better if I didn’t go,” he said, determined not to let his disappointment show. “It wouldn’t do to infect our guest.”

“Indeed, I can think of fewer actions less uncivil,” Amanda agreed, pleased that Stephen had chosen to do the proper thing. “Now, I want you keep to your bed and try to get some sleep” she instructed, backing slowly toward the door. “It also wouldn’t hurt you to drink some beef tea, and some of the special tisane that Mrs. Hatcher has prepared for you.”

“Ugh!” Stephen’s nose wrinkled in remembrance of the pungent brew. “Oh, Mandy, must I?”

“You must if you want to celebrate Christmas Eve with the family,” she said, opening the door and turning around. “I will not have you infecting—oh!” She let out a startled exclamation and whirled around to stare up at the man she had just collided with. “Justin!”

“Amanda.” Justin grinned down into her flushed face, noting with amusement that he had managed to startle her yet again. Did the minx never look where she was going, he wondered with a sudden flash of fond exasperation. His eyes flicked over her head to where Stephen was lying, and the laughter faded from his eyes.

“I hear you’re not feeling quite the thing, old man,” he said, gently setting Amanda to one side as he advanced toward the bed. “Glad to see that you’re doing the sensible thing and remaining in bed. Colds can be the very devil.”

Stephen preened at the words of praise from his idol. “I do feel rather muzzy-headed sir,” he replied, admitting to an infirmity he had just vehemently denied.

“I can imagine.” Justin nodded his head in understanding and then snapped his fingers. “Tell you what; I’ll have my man mix you up a batch of the Spanish cough medicine he made for me last time I was ill. It will have you on your pins in no time at all.”

“Oh, sir!” The teenaged boy looked ecstatic at the very prospect. “Thank you!”

Amanda shifted from one foot to the other. She appreciated Justin’s actions in setting Stephen at ease, but was not at all certain she wanted the boy dosed with heathenish potions.

“Justin,” she began, stepping closer to Stephen’s side, “I don’t think this is a very good —”

“Think nothing of it, my boy,” Justin interrupted, wisely ignoring Amanda’s protests. He clamped an arm about her waist and began dragging her backward, ignoring her futile attempts to free herself. “Happy to be of service. Now, mind that you get well, or I shall be most displeased with you.” And he closed the door behind them.

Once in the hallway Amanda was able to pull free, her hands on her hips as she glared up at Justin. “
Spanish
cough medicine?” she repeated, her lips quivering as she fought back a smile.

“Cinnamon, sugar water, and just enough brandy to give it character,” he answered with a low chuckle. “And you needn’t look so outraged, ma’am. It’s not nearly half so potent as that devil’s brew the twins poured down my throat, and at least Stephen is awake and able to defend himself. Besides the medicine
will
help him.”

“I know,” Amanda said, as they made their way down the main staircase and into the dining room where the cook had held breakfast. She waited until they had been seated and served with steaming cups of tea before continuing, “I suppose you must think me horribly over-protective,” she said, studying him over the rim of her cup, “but we nearly lost him last year, and he is still susceptible to inflammation of the chest.”

Justin gave a sympathetic nod. “That is what the maid told me when she said, Stephen was ill” he said, reaching out to cover her hand with his own. “I can understand your wanting to protect him at any cost. I even understand your hinting I was some sniveling invalid who-must be protected from every draft,” he added, his eyes sparkling with laughter at her guilty start.

“You’re not angry?” she asked, scarcely believing her good fortune.

“How could I be?” The twinkle in his light-brown eyes grew more pronounced as he continued smiling at her. “I am a soldier; I can appreciate the need for covert strategy, and you, my dear, are a master of the art. Should you ever decide to cut your delightful hair and exchange your petticoats for a uniform, I know a general or two who could make use of your rather devious turn of mind.”

“Thank you, sir . . . I think,” Amanda replied with a gurgle of appreciative laughter. She cocked her head to one side and regarded him through playfully narrowed eyes. “Why is it that with you I am never sure if I have been complimented . . .or insulted?”

He gave another chuckle and picked up his cup. “I am sure I don’t know what you mean, ma’am. But while you are deciding, let us finish our meal. It is already grown shockingly late, and we will have to hurry if you want this tree of yours secured in the parlor by luncheon.”

Chapter Twelve

After a hearty breakfast of beefsteak and kippers, Amanda and Justin set off to fetch the family’s tree. In honor of the occasion, the grooms harnessed Justin’s team of high-stepping bays to the ancient coach, and in no time at all they were whisking across the snow-covered countryside. They hadn’t travelled very far when Justin turned to Amanda, disapproval obvious in the hard set of his jaw.

“I still say we should have brought one of the maids or grooms along with us,” he said his hands tightening on the reins. “It’s not proper for us to go about unescorted.”

“Don’t be silly,” she replied with a soft laugh, determined not to let his priggish notions overset her. “We are soon to be brother and sister. I don’t see how even the biggest prude alive could possibly object to so innocent an outing. Besides,” she added as an afterthought, “it is much too cold for the servants to be out.”

Justin considered her answer for a moment, and then gave a reluctant chuckle. For some reason her reply struck him as decidedly amusing, and his dark mood vanished in a twinkling. “I see,” he said sending her a wicked grin, “you hesitate exposing your staff to the elements, yet you have no such compunctions with me. What of my delicate constitution? I am only just recovered from the fever, you know.”