The Yuletide Countess: Harriet's Traditional Regency Romance (4 page)

Harriet sat in the drawing room of Ballydendargan Cottage, her feet
resting on a footstool and her embroidery in her hands. The windows stood open
to let in the afternoon breeze and the gentle song of the birds that clustered
in the trees. It was a restful scene, and soon enough Harriet’s head began to
droop over her stitchery. But just as she laid it aside and settled back for a
comfortable snooze, the door flew open and Isobel appeared, her eyes alight with
annoyance.

 “Oh my,” gasped Harriet, her eyes flying open as she reached for
her sewing. “What is it, Isobel dear? You look furious.”

 Isobel glanced over her shoulder. “It is Lord Francis,” she hissed.

 Harriet’s face lit with pleasure. “Lord Francis? Here in
Ballydendargan?”

“Yes, and he came to find me at my excavation,” said Isobel. “He has
accompanied me back to the cottage for tea.”

“How delightful!” said Harriet. She cast Isobel a doubtful glance.
“Or rather, what a pity.”

“It is a great pity,” said Isobel heatedly, but then Lord Francis,
who had divested himself of his hat and cane, appeared in the doorway at
Isobel’s side. Harriet gave a little cry of delight.

“Lord Francis!” she exclaimed. “What a wonderful surprise. I had no
idea that we might be seeing you here in Scotland, not but what it is the
unexpected visitor that is the most welcome. It is very odd that you should be
here, of course; what brings you to this part of the kingdom?”

Lord Francis smiled beguilingly at Harriet. “I had no intention of
being here, ma'am, but I found that my friend Lord Glencairn was eager for my
company.”

Harriet glanced at Isobel, but that young woman still appeared to be
greatly put out by the presence of an eligible and handsome gentleman. She
shrugged mentally and pursued her conversation with his lordship with delight.
If Isobel was minded to be unreasonable, there was no reason Harriet should not
enjoy herself.

Lord Francis stayed for tea and was very charming, despite Isobel’s
obvious annoyance. As he departed, he bowed gracefully over her hand.

 “I am sure, now that the neighborhood will know of your presence,
that our paths will cross many times,” he said, his eyes twinkling with
amusement.

With a bow and a smile he was gone, and Harriet gave Isobel a sharp
look.

“If you are not careful, my dear, you will drive that young man away
all together,” she observed.

“As though I care about Lord Francis!” said Isobel petulantly.

“Well, I always thought more passed between the two of you in London
than you wished to tell me,” said Harriet. “And I would never press you to tell
me a secret that you did not wish to share. But for all you have been so rude
to him—and you were rude, my dear,” she said as Isobel opened her mouth to
protest, “he is a very kind gentleman, and an intelligent one as well, and you
should think twice before you alienate his affections completely. It is not as
though gentlemen like him arrive on your doorstep every day.”

Isobel turned away and bit her lip. “I suppose I was not as polite
as I might have been, but I was shocked to find him here. He surprised me at my
excavation, and asked some very prying questions!”

 “And so he might,
dearest
, given that he
found you digging about in the dirt after old coins and shards of pottery! And
still he seems to wish to pay you the most polite attentions. I wonder that you
can be angry with him.”

 “I have no intention of marrying anyone, even Lord Francis,” said
Isobel, an edge of defiance in her voice.

 “And who is there to make you?” asked Harriet. “Surely you don’t
think I will try to twist your arm? You are wholly in charge of your own
future, and a very lucky woman that makes you indeed. But Lord Francis will
have to ask you to marry him first. Or am I to understand that he has done so
already?”

 Isobel stared at her, for once bereft of words. Harriet hid a
smile.

 “I suppose I should not be asking such prying questions either, my
dear—you did say how much they bother you,” she continued. “It is not at all
kind of me; I wonder that you put up with my silliness. Your dealings with Lord
Francis are your own, of course. But if you do truly wish him to leave you in
peace, I’m sure you could find a way to tell him that he would understand. He
is not the sort of man to force his attentions on a lady. I only ask that if
you send him away you allow him to continue to visit me, for I must admit that
I find him vastly amusing, and, though I should not say it, delightful to look
at.”

 “It is not that I never wish to see Lord Francis again,” said
Isobel. “Though I do not mean to marry him, of course. I am simply worried that
his presence will keep me from pursuing my excavations to the extent that I
would wish.”

 “Is that all?” asked Harriet. “You seem terribly put out simply
because he came to your site. A politely worded request that he not bother you
there would surely do the trick. Lord Francis is by no means stupid.”

 “Of course he is not!” said Isobel. “It is just that—that I—well, I
must say I was very surprised to see him.”

 “Of course you were, and no doubt the shock is what made you seem
so off-putting. I’m sure we will hear from Lord Francis again soon, and I hope
that he will come have tea with me many a day. You, of course, must deal with
him as you
think
best.”

 Isobel sat down on the settee and stared out the window, her brow
creased in thought. Harriet returned to her embroidery, a hint of satisfaction
flickering in her eyes.

 
Dearest Pippa,

 The past week has been most amusing, for Lord Francis has made
his
appearance in Ballydendargan, and dear Isobel has
been in a tizzy ever since. She scarce knows what to do with herself; she is
clearly more than fond of his lordship, but has so often denied that she will
find a man she can care for, or that she will ever wed, that he has cast her
into the greatest confusion. If I were not so fond of her I might almost laugh
at the way she turns one way and then the other, first declaring that h
is
presence is an intolerable burden and then denying that she even
notices he is about.

I am more than ever sure that Lord Francis made Isobel an offer in
London and that she rejected him. I wonder at his stubbornness in pursuing her,
for she is very much set against the idea of marriage, but perhaps they are
well-matched, for it will take a stubborn man to be a good husband to her. She
would ride roughshod over most gentlemen, for her own obstinacy is legendary. I
almost laugh when I see the two of them together, so sure that no one is aware
of the little drama they are playing out. I stay out of their affairs as much
as I may, but at times they need a tiny nudge, and I provide that when
possible. And I am always happy to have Lord Francis to tea; it is a great pleasure
for me, and throws him into Isobel’s company, whether she wills it or no.

Since Lord Francis’ arrival we have been far more social than is our
wont; he has made sure that we are invited to all the entertainments in the
neighborhood, and we have dined with several of the local gentry and attended a
most enjoyable picnic last week. An invitation arrived today for a party at
Glencairn Castle, which delighted me. It will be quite small, with dinner and
perhaps a few reels danced in the drawing room. Isobel was much annoyed and
would have it that we could not attend, as it would distract her from her work
(as though she would be excavating anything during the dinner hour!), but I
carried the
day
by insisting that I very much
wished to see the inside of Glencairn Castle and the art collection that the
earl is said to have amassed. And, I must admit, I am rather curious about
finally meeting Lord G! Dear Miss D
tells me he is a
very kind gentleman, and I know his children are truly lovely, having met them
several times now. Two such clever children must have a very special father, I
would think.

 So, we go to Glencairn Castle tomorrow, and I have hopes that the
evening will be very entertaining for both Isobel and for me. Be sure I will
let you know how the young lovers progress. It would make me very happy if Lord
Francis were to prevail upon Isobel to marry him. I would never wish a bad
marriage on any woman, for we both know the misery that others have suffered,
but I see nothing but happiness for her were she to wed him.
I will also
tell you if my prospects are furthered at all during the evening.

 Affectionately,

 Harriet

The following evening Isobel and Harriet set out for Glencairn
Castle in Isobel’s carriage. Being near midsummer, the sun was still high in
the sky, and Harriet breathed a sigh of delight.

“I will have to remember these lovely days when we are in London
next March and all it does is rain,” she said. “At those times I think the sun
may never return, and I long to be here in Ballydendargan again.”

 Isobel smiled at her enthusiasm. “I hope it will be a pleasant
gathering
,” she said.

 “I am sure it shall,” said Harriet. “How could it not? Glencairn
Castle is famous for its beauty, and I know from Catherine that his lordship is
a gracious gentleman. And of course Lord Francis will be there, and he is
always very amusing.”

 Isobel looked down, and nervously stroked the rose-colored silk of
her skirt. “Yes, he is very amusing,” she murmured.

 “I’m sure he’ll think you look delightful, child,” said Harriet
brightly. “That dress is so becoming to you; I do think it is one of the
prettiest that you own.”

 “You look
very much to advantage
yourself,”
said Isobel.

 Harriet laughed. “As though anyone will look at me with you about,
my dear. But I am very fond of this dress, and I fancy that blue is a color
that becomes me. And the fresh air and relaxing days have doubtless left me far
calmer than I am in London. While it is all very exciting there, the hustle and
bustle keeps me from sleeping well, and I find the quiet here so refreshing.”

 “Perhaps Lord Francis will ask you to dance,” teased Isobel.

 “Only if you do not have time for him!” responded Harriet. “But he
is a very polite young man, and will doubtless say some charming things to me.
Sometimes when he is about I wish I were
fifteen
years
younger!”

 Isobel flushed slightly and looked away. Harriet, reflecting that
perhaps it was best not to disturb her companion’s thoughts, contented herself
with watching the beautiful landscape slide by. Before too ma
n
y minutes had passed, the carriage turned into the gravelled drive
leading to Glencairn Castle, and the building itself rose
before
them, its towers silhouetted against the bright blue of the sky.

 Harriet clasped her hands together. “How lovely,” she said.
“Perhaps Lord Glencairn will allow me to come here and do some painting! It
would make a
charming
subject. I vow I’ve never seen
such a delightful building!”

Isobel smiled at her enthusiasm. “While my preference is known to be
for the Roman, I have to allow it to be a very fine
structure
,” she said.

“I do hope Lord Glencairn will allow us to view his art
collection,” continued Harriet as their carriage drew up to the broad front
steps. Footmen moved forward swiftly to assist the women from their carriage,
and before they knew it, they were whisked through the front doors and into the
enormous entry hall.

 The earl himself was there to greet them, and, upon hearing their
names, gave Isobel a piercing look, clasping her hand gently.

 “How kind of you to join us,” he said graciously. “My friend Lord
Francis Wheaton has spoken often and well of you both. I am honored to have you
in my house; I have heard something of your reclusiveness while in Scotland.”

 Isobel smiled. “It is not an intentional abrogation of my social
duties, my lord,” she said. “It is merely that after the round of
entertainments in London a certain solitude is attractive.”

 “An admirable sentiment,” he said. “I am glad that you nevertheless
decided to attend my party this evening.”

 “It is my pleasure,” she replied. The earl was too kind to not
accept his compliments with good grace.

 “I am doubly glad that Lord Francis is visiting me now, if he is
the one who has managed to coax you out of your house,” continued Lord
Glencairn.

 Isobel could do little but smile pleasantly at this comment, and
then turned to Harriet, who was glancing about the hall in admiration.

 “My cousin, Miss Harriet Walcott,” she said.

 “Ah, Miss Walcott,” said the earl. “I have also heard a great deal
about you from Lord Francis.”

 “How kind of him,” said Harriet. “He is the most
pleasing
young man, and I am sure he is a
considerate
house guest! Indeed, I know he is, for he spent some time with us
at Kitswold—that is Isobel’s house in
Wiltshire--
last
spring. Although he was grievously injured, he was never rude or moody, but
always pleasant and charming.”

The earl smiled down at her and took her hand in his. He was
a robust gentleman, perhaps fifty years of age, and while his hair was white,
his face was remarkably unlined, and his piercing blue eyes were those of a
much younger man.

“He says the same of you, Miss W
a
lcott—that
you are always pleasant and charming, of course. I suppose he has no way to
know what sort of house guest you would be.”

“How kind of him,” said Harriet. “He did invite us to
celebrate
Easter at his paren
t
s
'
estate, but Isobel felt she had far too much to do with packing for
our annual visit to London. A pity, I’ve heard that Strancaster i
s
a beautiful home—though I can think of nothing that would be
lovelier than Glencairn. Only fancy, a castle!”

“I think of it as my home, of course,” said Lord Glencairn.
“But the family has been here since the 13th century, though the building
itself is primarily from the 17th century.”

“I’m told you have a remarkable art collection,” said Harriet. “Is there
any chance that I might coax a viewing out of you?”

“It would be my pleasure,” said Lord Glencairn. “Though, I warn you
I can be a bit of a bore about my artwork.”

“Nonsense, as though artwork could ever be boring,” said Harriet.
She looked around the room again. “So lovely,” she murmured. Her eye caught
Lord Glencairn’s and it occurred to her that perhaps she should not reveal to
him that she already knew much about him from her discussions with Miss
Dalburn.

“And is Lady Glencairn not here?” asked Harriet. “I would so like to
meet the mistress of this lovely home.”

“I am a widower these ten years, madam,” said the Earl. “I have two
children, of ages eleven and thirteen, and I fear they miss their mother very
much.”

“What a pity,” agreed Harriet. “Children do need a mother's tender
care to help them grow. Not but what I am sure that you are the very best
father they could hope for, and that you have made up in every way possible for
their loss. How I do go on! I should not dwell so long on such a sad subject.”

The Earl bowed. “Not at all, madam. Your sentiments do you honor.”

Lord Francis chose that moment to approach them, and after greeting
Isobel, he offered her his arm and escorted her into the adjoining room.