The Widow's Christmas Surprise

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The Widow's Christmas Surprise Page 14

by Jenna Jaxon


  “How lovely.” Maria hurried her steps forward. “It’s like the houses one reads of in fairy tales.”

  “As long as it is not the one from Hansel and Gretel,” Jane murmured.

  “What is that?”

  “A German fairy tale Tark read to me not long after we married.”

  “And it has a cottage in it like this one?”

  Jane nodded. “But made of gingerbread.”

  “How sweet.” Maria grinned as she hurried toward the charming little house.

  “Actually not.” Jane spoke low, to herself.

  “Whatever are you talking about, Jane?” At the door, Maria raised her hand to the brass knocker.

  “Nothing that concerns you now. I will explain it when you are older.”

  Maria frowned at her cousin. Jane could be very mysterious when she chose to be. She rapped smartly on the door, which was instantly opened by a tall, thin man, presumably the butler.

  “Lady Kersey and Lady John Tarkington.” Maria glanced nervously at Jane. She’d managed to keep from telling her cousin about kissing Mr. Granger, but only because she’d been so intent on telling her about the unexpected meeting with Lord Wetherby. Now, when she saw Mr. Granger again, she very much feared her secret—or at least her emotions—would be written on her face.

  They followed the butler into a small entry hall, then down a short corridor to a large drawing room, decorated in warm colors. The pale beige walls brightened the dim light coming through the large windows overlooking a rustic patch of autumn flowers. A Turkish carpet in reds and golds added elegance to the room, as did the tall escritoire and the graceful table and chairs, set for tea with delicate china.

  Mr. Granger stood ready as they entered, his sister at his side. She favored him in the squareness of her jaw and the color of her hair and eyes, though not in his height.

  “Lady Kersey, Lady John, it is an honor to have you here today.” He bowed solemnly, his manner rather more staid than yesterday.

  Maria bit her lip, but smiled and curtsied. She could not dwell on that interlude or she would certainly come to grief. Instead she stepped forward to the young lady, who seemed all atremble. “I believe you must be Miss Granger?”

  “Yes, my lady.” She curtsied, then looked to her brother. “Hugh?”

  Mr. Granger stepped forward, now standing a mere foot or so from Maria. “Lady Kersey, Lady John Tarkington, may I present my sister, Miss Arabella Granger? My sister is staying with me while our brother is indisposed. Arabella, Lady Kersey and her cousin are now living at Kersey Hall, although I believe Lady John will be leaving us shortly.”

  “Very shortly indeed, Mr. Granger.” Jane smiled at them both. “Tomorrow morning, in fact. How do you do, Miss Granger?”

  “I am very well, my lady.” The young lady’s cheeks pinkened, and she turned to Maria. “Did you enjoy your walk to Wingate? I like walking very much when I can crunch leaves beneath my half-boots.”

  “That is fun, isn’t it?” Maria laughed, suddenly very light-spirited. Miss Granger seemed a sweet lady, much in temperament like her brother if she didn’t miss her guess. “Perhaps we can take a turn outside later and enjoy the fallen leaves together.”

  “I would like that, my lady.” Miss Granger shot a look at her brother, who nodded to the table. “Ladies, would you please be seated?” She then grasped the bellpull and tugged on it twice. “Tea should be here shortly.”

  Maria and Jane seated themselves opposite one another, which allowed each of them to sit beside Miss Granger. It also allowed them Mr. Granger as their other partner, a circumstance that had Maria’s heart thumping loudly in her chest. This was quite the nearest she’d been to Mr. Granger, except for when she had—

  Her cheeks scorched, as if she’d stood too near the fire, which in one sense she had. A surreptitious glance at Mr. Granger showed a tinge of pink in his cheeks as well.

  Oh, dear. This would never do. She focused her attention on Miss Granger, praying Jane had missed that little exchange with the girl’s brother. “How are you finding life here at Wingate, Miss Granger?”

  The young lady smiled pleasantly. “Very well indeed, my lady. The house is quite snug and the property is lovely. My chief concern is that I have little to do here.” She glanced at her brother and pursed her lips.

  He grinned back at her.

  “Mr. Granger will take everything about the running of the household on himself, leaving me with only my two favorite pastimes, reading and gardening, to while away my hours.” She sighed. “And with the weather getting colder, there is little enough to do in the garden.”

  “Well, what you have accomplished in such a short time is quite lovely.” Maria nodded to Miss Granger, though her gaze strayed momentarily to her brother. That gentleman looked very handsome in a blue superfine coat and breeches, with a waistcoat done in blue and green florals and his cravat tied in a smart mathematical knot.

  “I confess I have been able to do little in the garden in the way of planting. Hu—Mr. Granger had already sent instructions about the winter plants by the time I arrived here, although I have been able to take some cuttings and create arrangements for the public rooms.” She pointed to a spectacular floral array in a simple white bowl on the mantelpiece. Golden late-blooming roses mingled with a dark wine-colored spray of leaves, sprigs of various berries mixed all about with a fan of greenery at the back.

  “You are very talented, my dear.” Jane’s voice held sincere appreciation. She took great pride in her own flower arrangement, so her words were praise indeed.

  Miss Granger beamed. “Thank you, my lady. I have always taken much joy in flowers, especially at home, where I had the keeping of the garden myself.”

  The door opened and the butler brought in the tea tray.

  “Thank you, Carstairs.” Miss Granger took up the teapot, and soon they were all enjoying the hot, fragrant tea and delicious little cardamom cakes.

  “Do you leave for home in the morning, Lady John?” Miss Granger had offered a second round of cakes. Maria and her brother had taken more, but Jane had declined.

  “No, I am for Scotland, to visit a dear friend who I have had to put off for several months. I have been with Lady Kersey while she was settling into life here at Kersey Hall. But now she has her place amongst the new family, I think it is time for me to journey north.”

  “Lady John has been terribly kind to me.” Maria set her cup into its saucer and sent a thankful look to Jane. “I don’t know what I would have done without her these past months. I know I shall miss her terribly.”

  “But now you have made Miss Granger’s acquaintance and that of the current Lady Kersey, you will not be alone at all, my dear.” Jane patted her hand. Maria would miss her regardless of her new friends. “Miss Granger, might we take that walk now? I think I must stretch my legs after eating those lovely little cakes.” She eyed the floral arrangement above the fireplace. “Could you show me where you found those wine-colored leaves? They are an exquisite color for arranging this time of year.”

  “Of course, my lady.” The young lady rose instantly and addressed her brother. “Will you and Lady Kersey accompany us?”

  Maria started, glancing at Mr. Granger and catching his eye. The warmth she found there sent heat streaming to her cheeks until she thought they must be on fire.

  “I believe Lady Kersey and I will also avail ourselves of the crisp air, if you are amenable, my lady?” He turned his gaze full on her and Maria’s stomach dropped.

  “Yes . . . yes, of course,” she finally stuttered out. “That would be lovely.”

  Carstairs assisted them with their coats and Miss Granger led the way out the front door and around the side to the little wilderness they had seen from the drawing room. She and Jane walked together, their avid conversation about the local flora becoming more and more animated as Miss Granger pointed out various plants. That left Maria to stroll next to the silent Mr. Granger, who stared straight ahead as they wound down th
e path.

  The silence lengthened until Maria wished heartily for something to say. However, all she could think of was their meeting yesterday, and her completely inappropriate kiss. Her cheeks stung, although not with the cold. Her behavior had been too forward. Likely Mr. Granger wished never to speak to her again but had been too polite to renege on his invitation to tea.

  Still, the memory of that moment lingered, even if the kiss itself had not. He’d obviously been startled—she’d been startled as well, not having planned it at all but had just done it—but he hadn’t backed away. So had he enjoyed the kiss? His lips had been firm, his breath sweet with wine. She had the recollection of her hand meeting his hard chest, but she’d been focused, for those fleeting moments, on his mouth, on his nearness, on the fire that erupted in the pit of her stomach and shot downward to her nether regions. She’d not felt that way since . . .

  “Please allow me, Lady Kersey, to heartily apologize for yesterday’s inappropriate behavior on my part.” Mr. Granger continued to avoid her direct gaze, though he seemed to glance her way every second or two.

  “I do not see why you feel the need to apologize, Mr. Granger, for actions that were not of your doing. I was the one who kissed you, if you remember.” No sooner were the words out than Maria clapped her hand over her mouth. Oh, lord, how had that slipped out? She had not kept herself in check very well the past two days.

  “Yes, Lady Kersey.” He turned and pinned her with his bright blue gaze. “I do remember that, very well indeed.”

  Maria’s heart thumped in her chest, loudly enough to be heard, she’d wager. “If you do, then you should know you do not need to ask forgiveness for something you did not do.”

  “Ah, but I was a willing party to it, my lady.” His eyes bore into hers until she slowed to a stop, unable to breathe. “A partner in crime.”

  She struggled to take in a breath to ask, “What crime?”

  “Larceny.”

  Frowning, Maria just stared at him, utterly confused. “What did you steal?”

  “I did not steal it, but allowed it to be stolen.” He kept his gaze trained on her until she swallowed hard.

  “What . . . what?” She could scarcely get the word out.

  “My heart, my lady.”

  Her mouth went dry. Could she be understanding him rightly?

  He glanced ahead at his sister and her cousin, but they were deep in conversation, bent over a bed of purple flowers. Gently, he took her hand. “I have no right to even dream of such a boon, but when you kissed me yesterday, I began to hope that perhaps the honor of deepening our friendship might be within the sphere of possibility.”

  The very words she had wanted to hear from this man, although perhaps they could be deemed a bit hasty on his part, given that she was not out of mourning yet. Still, she had to admit her own wishes toward deepening their friendship were the same as his. What a truly glorious afternoon this had turned into. But they must be cautious. “Oh, Mr. Granger.”

  She too took a quick look at Miss Granger and Jane, who had just stood up and were turning back toward them. Jane could not know of this or Maria would get the scolding of a lifetime. Slipping her hand from Mr. Granger’s, Maria stepped back from him and whispered, “They are coming. We must wait to talk.”

  He nodded briefly, then abruptly began speaking about a cluster of red flowers ringing a large boulder to the right of the path. “These are Cyclamen hederifolium, my lady. The color is lovely and lasts all the way into spring, despite the cold and snow. Quite a hardy plant.”

  Jane was approaching them, her gimlet eyes fixed on Maria.

  “I certainly hope it is, Mr. Granger.” She lowered her voice and smiled at him. “I think we are in for a blow. Hello, my dear.” She turned her smile on her cousin. “What were you and Miss Granger examining? You looked terribly engrossed with it.”

  “A particularly hardy species of crocus, Lady Kersey.” Miss Granger spoke up brightly. “According to my brother, it has weathered the cold and snow hereabouts ever since he came to Kersey Hall some six or seven years ago, isn’t that right, Hugh?”

  “It is, my dear. I planted it with my own hands just after the old earl hired me.” Mr. Granger’s expression remained pleasant, despite a tightening of his jaw. “They are, perhaps, my favorite flower for the winter.” His gaze strayed back to Maria’s face. “I have loved them for a long time. They can thrive despite adverse conditions”—he chuckled—“and are beautiful into the bargain.”

  Heart melting, Maria tried to look away, but how could one turn one’s eyes from a gentleman declaring his love? Never mind that she couldn’t quite tell if it was for the flowers or herself, but she’d wager it was for both of them.

  “Yes, I see.” Jane’s clipped words broke the spell Mr. Granger had been weaving. “They are pretty and rugged when pitted against the elements, but are they truly happy in such harsh conditions? Should they not, perhaps, be more sheltered from the cruel world so they may live and be admired for a longer time to come?”

  “But they like the cold weather, my lady.” The puzzled voice of Miss Granger broke in. The young lady’s brows had drawn down in a slight frown. “The more the elements throw at them, the more they seem to thrive. Like they enjoy the challenge, I think.”

  “Perhaps they do, Miss Granger.” With a sniff, Jane cut her gaze directly at Maria. “Perhaps they do.”

  After returning to the house, during which march Jane stayed stubbornly by Maria’s side, Maria and Jane made their goodbyes and Maria promised to invite Miss Granger to Kersey Hall within the week. Maria and Jane took their leave and ambled out the front door and onto the crushed-shell driveway.

  Determined not to have the conversation—or scolding rather—she feared would ensue as soon as they lost sight of Wingate, Maria launched into cheerful chatter about the cyclamens and crocuses. Surely the flowers she was always so enthusiastic about would distract Jane from anything else on her mind.

  “Maria, for the love of all that is holy, please tell me you have not been in Mr. Granger’s bed.”

  Stopped mid-stride, Maria gaped at her cousin, appalled that she would think such a thing of her. “I most certainly have not! I barely know the gentleman. Why on earth would you think I had done such a thing?”

  Fury in her eye, Jane rounded on her. “Because if you remember, this is exactly the way you acted with Alan Garrett a year ago last August. And you apparently had only known him some hours before he found his way to your bed.”

  Opening her mouth to deny that accusation, Maria stopped herself before she could say a word. She’d been a scared, grieving girl of seventeen, wide-eyed and totally unprepared for a house party where gentlemen and rogues mingled freely. Alan had been one such rogue. They had conversed a bit, though he’d done most of the talking, then they had danced, after which he’d taken her outside for a breath of fresh air after all the heat of the party. On the veranda he’d kissed her, declared her young and lovely, and talked his way into her bed before she quite knew how he’d come to be there. So yes, she grudgingly had to admit, Jane was within her rights to ask her that.

  “I assure you, Cousin, I have not allowed Mr. Granger, nor any other man, in my bed since Alan died.” Whether she’d wanted one there was another question. Pray Jane did not ask that one.

  “Then why were you and Mr. Granger flirting like a courting couple? It really was quite distasteful, Maria. I only hope Miss Granger, who is a sweet and innocent young lady, did not understand what you two were doing. ‘I have loved them for a long time’ and ‘They are beautiful into the bargain.’” She shook her head vehemently. “A schoolgirl would know better than to act so in public.”

  “Please settle yourself, Cousin. We were hardly in a public place.”

  “You were carrying on in front of his sister and me. That is more than public enough.”

  “We have been very discreet.” Maria continued on her way down the path. “No one was in the room when I kissed him.” Des
pite the storm about to descend because of that revelation, the relief Maria experienced by not having to keep it from her cousin was enormous.

  “You kissed him?” Jane stopped dead, forcing Maria to turn back to her. “What were you thinking?”

  “That he was a sad and lonely man and I wanted to comfort him as best I could. Was that so wrong?”

  “Maria.” Taking Maria’s arm, Jane looped her arm through it and they continued toward Kersey Hall. “I understand that Mr. Granger is concerned about his brother, but you cannot let that cloud your judgment. We have talked about this before. You must marry well if you intend to provide for your daughter and yourself. Mr. Granger is not the sort of man who will be able to do so.”

  “I have found out a bit more about Mr. Granger.” Maria paused to gather her thoughts. She’d promised him that she would not reveal the particulars about his brother’s situation, but she still needed to convey to Jane that Mr. Granger would be an excellent and eligible parti, without breaking her confidence. “His father was apparently a prosperous landowner, and as Mr. Granger has an older brother, the land and property was passed down to him. However”—she slowed, speaking deliberately—“as you remember, his brother met with a terrible accident and has been in a state of decline ever since. That is why Miss Granger now resides with her brother here, rather than with the invalid who is so incapacitated he cannot act as a proper chaperone to her.” In a final attempt to make her cousin understand, Maria grasped Jane’s arm. “It is not anticipated that he will survive much longer. At which time the younger Mr. Granger will inherit a very sizeable property.”

  Her face set in lines of concerned determination, Jane patted Maria’s arm. “I am sorry for the Granger family for their grievous trouble; however, if the elder Mr. Granger lingers, or recovers completely, the younger Mr. Granger will have no means of support except as the steward of the property you at one time owned. Can you not see the disaster approaching on the horizon, my dear?”

 

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