Snug in a Snowstorm

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Snug in a Snowstorm Page 3

by Cynthia Moore


  “Yes, my lady, I’ve laid out your favorite dress on the bed. The one that is easy to get into. Your room is the second one on the left at the top of the stairs.” Jane smiled at her mistress in an encouraging manner.

  Isabella gingerly reached up and felt a few strands of hair against her neck that had fallen from her comb sometime midway during the meal preparation. “Yes, thank you. I would like to put myself to rights. But I will need to change again to do the dishes.”

  “Take your time, Isabella,” Gerard directed her sternly. “Jane and I will clean up after we eat.”

  “What? That’s preposterous!” The thought of Gerard working in the kitchen boggled her mind. As tired as she was, Isabella was certain he was playing one of his tricks on her.

  Gerald turned to her with his eyebrows raised in a gesture of surprise. “What kind of a person do you take me for? Do you think I’m above washing dishes?”

  Isabella hesitated a moment before answering. “No…no but I didn’t think you would ever have reason to do such a job. I thought you were teasing me.”

  Gerard frowned and looked uncomfortable for a moment. “No, Isabella, I’m not provoking you. I have an incentive to do this. As I mentioned before, this unusual situation we find ourselves in requires all of us to share in doing the tasks. But I must qualify my statement. I won’t be doing any cooking because any food I might produce certainly wouldn’t be fit to eat.”

  “Then I must thank you for your assistance.” She gave Gerard what she hoped was a reassuring smile and then turned away to hurry out of the room. She felt embarrassed because of her quick assumption that he hadn’t meant what he said. He wasn’t a boy anymore just as she was no longer a little girl. She must cease thinking of him as he once was and realize he was now a viscount with his own thriving estate with many concerns and responsibilities on his shoulders.

  Mr. Quentin was in the hallway just closing the door to the housekeeper’s rooms. Isabella moved to speak with him. “How does your wife fare?”

  “She is sleeping peacefully, my lady. Her cough has stopped. Thank you ever so much,” the little man whispered with a grin on his face.

  “You’re very welcome. I’m glad I was able to help. She should drink more of the ginger tea during the day tomorrow to help soothe her throat. I’ve no doubt it will still be very sensitive. Your dinner is being served in the servants’ quarters.” Isabella turned away to rush up the stairs.

  “Thank you again, my lady,” Mr. Quentin called after her.

  Isabella entered the room Jane had indicated and swiftly shut the door behind her. After a quick perusal of the chamber, which she found more than adequate to her needs, Isabella untied her apron and tossed it onto a nearby chair. Muttering some words of thanks out loud as she easily tackled the buttons on her gown herself, she stepped out of her travel-worn and now food-stained dress. She walked over to the basin, quickly splashed tepid water on her face and wiped the moisture off with a clean towel that was nearby. Then she reached up to pull the comb from her hair. In her present situation, she also had reason to be thankful that she was perfectly capable of seeing to herself without Jane’s assistance. After several strokes to the long, silken strands with her brush, Isabella deftly twisted her hair up on her head and anchored the comb once more.

  She turned to the bed and picked up her rich emerald silk gown with short puffed sleeves and high neckline. It was a perfect foil for her black hair and green eyes. She had always been particularly fond of the dress. She carefully lowered it over her head and adjusted the skirt so it hung straight to the floor.

  A knock sounded upon the door.

  “Yes? I’m almost ready,” she called out, thinking it was Miss Hatch coming to check up on her.

  “I wanted to make sure you hadn’t fallen asleep.” Gerard grinned at her from the doorway. “Do you need help with your gown?”

  Isabella swallowed the exclamation of surprise that was on her lips when she saw him standing there. She reminded herself of her vow to treat Gerard as the serious, exemplary man he was. She hastily reached up to fasten the buttons at her neck. “No, thank you. I can do it myself.”

  “I was teasing you when I asked that question.”

  Chapter Four

  Isabella glared at him. “Just when I had decided you had grown out of your exasperating ways!”

  Gerard studied Isabella as she stood before him looking beautiful in her silk dress even as she scowled at him. He knew he should quickly escort her to the dining room to partake in the rapidly cooling meal she had prepared, but this was a chance to say something to her that had been on his mind for a long time.

  He stepped forward to take her hands in his own. She stopped glaring at him and looked confused. “I’ve wanted to say something to you. I might as well take advantage of the circumstances and tell you now. I realize I bedeviled you unmercifully when we were growing up and I want to apologize for my thoughtless actions in my youth. The only thing I can say in my defense is I thought to gain your notice but now that we are older, I know you still find it very hard to take me seriously. Admit it, Isabella.”

  Her green eyes glowed as she studied his face intently. “Yes, you’re correct. I do usually assume you’re teasing me. It’s something I have only recently realized I was doing. But my memories of those days have softened, you could say, with time. You weren’t the only one pulling the pranks. I was responsible for a few capers as well.”

  “Yes, but most of what you did was in retaliation for my escapades.” Gerard turned toward the open doorway and placed her hand on his sleeve as he guided her into the hallway. “Over the next few days, while we celebrate the holidays together in this most unusual fashion, I want you to see another side of me. I hope to make you forget the wild, uncaring boy I once was.”

  “I never felt you were heartless, Gerard, just bent on showing how much smarter you were than me. In the end, I was left feeling like a foolish feather-brained girl.”

  “Now you have put me in my place and made me feel like the worst sort of person.” Gerard turned back to Isabella and studied her lovely, suddenly somber countenance gravely. He reminded himself of the comment he had heard her make to her father about how miserable he had made her as a girl. It wouldn’t be a simple matter to make Isabella feel completely comfortable with him. But he vowed to himself he would do all he could in the next few days to change her regrettable impression of him. “I will do all I can, beginning now, to make up for my poor behavior to you as a boy.”

  “No, no, I won’t have you feeling that you’re an unpleasant creature. Why, only a short while ago, I had quite made up my mind to cease thinking of you as the rascal you were in your youth and to begin to acknowledge you as a good, caring gentleman with many obligations and responsibilities.”

  “Ah, now that is music to my ears.” Gerard sighed with relief as her words made him feel he had a chance to make her see him in a better light. “I am happy to know I’m not beginning my campaign to make a better impression on you completely out of favor. I say we go partake in the meal you have so diligently prepared for us. Nothing admirable was ever accomplished on an empty stomach.”

  “I fear the moment of truth is almost upon me. I will learn in an instant if I truly do know how to cook.” Isabella chuckled somewhat nervously as Gerard guided her down the stairs.

  “If it makes you feel any better, I can tell you I have a feeling I won’t be disappointed.” He paused and grinned at her with his hand on the doorknob. “And I’m not joking.”

  “You have no idea how much you have relieved my mind.” She smiled back at him.

  They entered the dining room to discover Miss Hatch being assisted into her chair by Jane, who then quietly left the room.

  “Ah, Isabella and Lord Malden, I was hoping you wouldn’t be long. The food you prepared smells divine, my dear.” Miss Hatch sniffed the air appreciatively.

  “I’m very glad to hear you say that. I was just telling Ger—Lord Malden that we wou
ld soon discover if I have any talent at all for cooking.”

  “Considering how informal this holiday celebration has become, I believe we can dispense with my title for now. Both of you ladies must call me Gerard.” He took up a knife and fork and began carving a piece of breast meat from the chicken.

  “And you must call me Augusta,” that lady replied as she handed Gerard her plate. “Isabella still calls me Miss Hatch once in a while, though.”

  “That’s because I was instructed not to call you anything else when I was younger. It’s a hard habit to break.”

  Gerard concentrated on doling out the chicken and vegetables to the ladies and then placed a substantial amount of food onto his own plate. He picked up a bottle of wine that was on the table near him. “I took the liberty to raid my father’s cellar earlier this evening. He wouldn’t want us to partake in a meal such as this without also enjoying some of his favorite burgundy.”

  He poured the dark-red liquid into the two ladies’ glasses and then filled his own. Gerard stood and raised his goblet. “To a happy, somewhat unusual Christmas! And our heartfelt thanks to our impromptu cook, Isabella. We are truly grateful that you have such a talent at this time.”

  Isabella lifted her glass and took a sip of her wine before speaking. “Please wait until you sample the food before you thank me, Gerard.”

  “It’s delicious, my dear,” Augusta spoke out after taking a bite of chicken.

  Gerard speared a piece of the poultry and a bit of carrot as well. He chewed the food slowly, not speaking for several moments.

  “Don’t prolong the suspense any longer. I need to know your opinion as well.”

  Gerard suddenly realized Isabella had been waiting anxiously for his thoughts on the quality of the meal. He wasted no time in offering his opinion. “I was simply savoring the flavors. It is very good.”

  “I’m glad to hear you weren’t purposely holding off saying anything,” Isabella replied in a serious tone and took a bite of chicken.

  Gerard frowned at her. “Remember, I vowed not to tease you over the next few days.”

  “What? No banter or silly bedevilments between the two of you? It sounds rather humdrum to me. After all, it appears we are stuck here together for a few days at least. I was hoping for something lively to relieve a situation that will surely become quite tedious after such a span of time.” Augusta intently studied Isabella with a glum expression before spooning some of the vegetables into her mouth.

  Gerard spoke up quickly as he felt Isabella tense up at his side. “Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. We have plenty to occupy us. I plan to ask the men to help me to locate a suitable Yule Log. We will also gather some sprigs of holly and pine while we are outside. Since so much snow has fallen, we will need to be careful not to stray too far from the estate. I would appreciate your assistance, Augusta, decorating the inside of the house with all the greenery we collect. The main rooms downstairs should look quite festive before we sit down for the evening meal.”

  “I imagine you would like to hear what is on the menu for tomorrow’s dinner since it seems I have your approval of my cooking talents?” Isabella gave him a wry look.

  “Yes, of course.” Gerard rested his knife and fork on his plate and gave Isabella his full attention.

  “There is a fairly large goose, three more chickens and several pieces of beef in the larder. Also potatoes, onions, carrots, turnips and a few loaves of bread. That is plenty of food for tomorrow evening and for our Christmas celebration the following day.”

  Augusta heaved a sigh. “What about a mince pie, Isabella? You know that I always look forward to several slices of that sweet over the holidays.”

  Isabella looked uncertain. “I’ll have to check the larder to see if there are currants, nutmeg, dried apples, cloves and raisins to sweeten it first. I can use pieces of the beef for the suet filling.”

  “You’ll need to make certain you have time to make such a creation in addition to the other dishes you will be fixing for the holiday.” Gerard tried to make Augusta realize that Isabella would be overwhelmed with the other tasks involved to fix such a meal without the added burden of worry over baking a pie.

  Augusta harrumphed before replying, “I’m well aware of the effort my charge is going to by cooking all the meals for us. I simply wished to ask if such a thing was possible.”

  “I will make the pie if the ingredients are available and if there is time. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?” Isabella smiled tiredly at Augusta and then took a hefty sip of her wine.

  Gerard cleared his throat before speaking. He didn’t want Miss Hatch to frustrate or anger Isabella with her complaints and make the situation more uncomfortable than it already was proving to be. “I see Isabella has made tarts for our dessert tonight. Let’s take a few minutes to enjoy them now. Then I will gather the dishes and clean up.”

  The three of them ate their dessert in silence. Finally, Isabella put down her spoon and pushed her chair away from the table. “I need to make a salve for Augusta’s sore joints and brew some more ginger tea for Mrs. Quentin. I will join you in the kitchen.”

  Gerard was ashamedly relieved to hear a possible explanation for Augusta’s sour disposition. Hopefully Isabella’s treatment would bring the lady relief and cause her to become more cheerful. He stood and began gathering the dirty dishes onto the tray. “I trust you can find something to amuse yourself in the drawing room while we are gone, Augusta?”

  The lady nodded slowly and attempted a smile, seemingly in an effort to make up for her previous cranky attitude. “Don’t concern yourself. I will work on my embroidery while I wait for both of you to join me.”

  “I’ll return soon, Augusta.” Isabella picked up her own empty plates and turned toward the door. “I’ll follow you, Gerard.”

  They made their way to the kitchen, opening the door to discover Jane already there ahead of them, stacking dishes on the sideboard.

  “I hope you had some assistance with those,” Gerard spoke out as he perceived the substantial pile of plates.

  “Oh yes, my lord. Jones and Edward just now brought the last of them. Most of the men have gone to check on the horses. Quentin is looking in on his wife. Jones wanted me to tell you he is seeing to replenishing the coal in the bed chambers upstairs. Everyone sends their compliments to the cook, my lady,” Jane turned and spoke to her mistress with a grin. “There’s not a piece of meat, vegetable or tart left.”

  “Thank you, Jane. That reminds me. I need to save the carcasses to make soup tomorrow.” Isabella placed her pile of plates in the sink and reached for a pot hanging over the stove.

  “Here, let me help.” Gerard carefully lowered the stack of dishes he was carrying onto the sideboard and then picked up the remains of the two chickens. He dropped them inside the vessel that Isabella held out to him. “You can make soup as well? I confess your many talents in the kitchen surprise me.”

  Gerard had reason to regret his statement as he looked up and saw Isabella flush rosily in obvious embarrassment when she heard his words. He was definitely sorry he had mentioned anything when she spoke moments later.

  “Are you saying you didn’t think I was smart enough to undertake such a task?”

  It was Gerard’s turn to color up. A wave of intense frustration swept through his consciousness as he suddenly realized that the undertaking he had set for himself—to change the way Isabella looked at him and felt about him as a result of his careless treatment of her in their youth—would very possibly never occur. He felt very tired and discouraged. “I didn’t mean what I said in that way,” he answered her abruptly, not wishing to make any other comment that might be misconstrued. He noted that Jane was also standing close by, making little attempt to hide her interest in their conversation. Turning away, he tugged off his coat, placed it on a nearby chair and rolled up the sleeves on his shirt. He moved to the sink to begin the chore of washing up the dishes, not looking at Isabella.

  “I’m sorry, Gerard.
It was very wrong of me to ask you such a question.”

  Isabella placed her fingers on his bare forearm and gently squeezed it. He studied her small hand; slightly reddened he was sure from her recent labors in the kitchen. Again, he reminded himself of the unique situation that had suddenly been thrust upon all of them this Christmas. There were bound to be many misunderstandings and confusions in the coming days. But Gerard desperately wanted to make certain there were no misinterpretations arising from any further comments he made to her.

  He turned to face Isabella, causing her to loosen her hold on his arm. He gently placed both of his hands on her shoulders. “I want you to understand this, my dear. I have never, ever made any statements to you that were meant to make you feel unintelligent or foolish. If my teasing comments I bombarded you with when we were younger caused you to believe that, or anything that I might have said to you since that time, I offer you my most sincere apologies.”

  Chapter Five

  Isabella studied Gerard’s handsome profile as he stood before her with a serious, intent expression on his face. Obviously, it was very important to him to know that she didn’t harbor any resentment or hurt feelings left over from what happened when they were young. She had already assured him that she never thought him heartless and any unease or pain she experienced all those years ago had dulled with time. With age comes a certain reality and what was thought as an uncomfortable situation as children was only an important part of growing up. It was past time that she let go of all those silly, annoying memories. After all, it was almost Christmas and even though this holiday was turning out to be of quite an unusual nature, she should do her best to enjoy yourself.

  “I believe I forgave you long ago, Gerard. My absurd reactions to you now are just a penchant or a tendency to assume certain things based on what happened when we were children. I heartily agree with something you said to me shortly after you arrived today. Let’s do our best to enjoy the holiday together.”

 

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