“I have no intention of forming an attachment with Baxter.” She had to hope that Holly didn’t notice the blush in her cheeks. How could Violet not blush when speaking of him brought to mind the kisses they’d shared? If she were honest with herself, she’d admit she was quite enamored with him.
“Baxter Adley.” Her mother said his name as she tapped a finger against her lips, a sign she was trying to remember something.
Oh dear.
“I should be going. They’re expecting me.” Though they weren’t.
“Wait. Baxter Adley. Now I remember. I understand he and Lady Alice are renewing their acquaintance, so it’s good that you’re not growing fond of him.”
The pain that swept through her took her by surprise. What could Baxter possibly see in Alice? The woman might be considered a beauty, but she had directed her cutting remarks at Violet and her sister, Dalia, on more than one occasion. She was mean-spirited and often petty. Violet was tempted to warn him of her poor behavior but doing so would make her no better.
“If he likes Lady Alice, then he doesn’t have good taste,” Holly announced with a tone of authority.
“You’ve never met Lady Alice,” their mother pointed out.
“I’ve heard enough about her to know that to be true,” Holly countered.
“Holly,” their mother protested. “That is hardly the way a young lady should speak of others.” She looked at Violet once again. “You’d be far better off spending time trying to attract a lord’s notice rather than reading to the elderly couple next door.”
“I’m helping them with a few things as well.” Why Violet bothered to defend her actions she didn’t know.
“Such as?” Holly asked, one brow raised.
Violet’s gaze swung to her mother, wondering if she truly had to answer. At her mother’s matching brow, Violet sighed. “They have asked me to help them plan an old-fashioned Christmas.”
“Whatever for?” her mother asked.
“They miss the activities they enjoyed in their youth.” At her mother’s blank look, she added, “Singing carols, decorating with holly, playing snapdragon.”
“Good heavens. That is a terrible game.” Her mother rubbed her fingers as though remembering it all too well.
“Maybe we could plan a few family activities this year,” Violet suggested.
“Your father and I are attending a supper on Christmas Eve. And on Christmas Day, we’ll all have dinner at Letitia and Nathaniel’s. That is more than enough activity. The rest is far too much bother.”
Her words only made Violet pleased she’d be able to enjoy some of the festivities at the Adley residence. At least then she’d have the chance to celebrate a more traditional Christmas.
“I must be going,” Violet said and slipped out the door before her mother could further protest.
The icy frozen streets and walkways had melted, but the chill in the air had returned. Her breath came out in little puffs of clouds, making her release several purposely just to see them.
She chuckled at her silliness as she knocked on the Adleys’ door. To her surprise, Baxter opened it.
His watchful gaze swept over her face, lingering on her lips, and bringing to mind their kiss once again. The sensation that fluttered in her stomach was becoming familiar but still threw her off balance, and there was no ice underfoot on which to blame it.
“Good day, Violet.” His deep voice added to the fluttering sensation.
Oh dear. She was growing quite enamored with Baxter no matter how she wished otherwise.
~*~
The next afternoon, Violet couldn’t help but smile as she watched Baxter.
He stared at the bowl of cranberries, along with a needle and thread beside it, a look of consternation on his face. “What is the purpose of this?”
Violet giggled at his expression. “To decorate with. Don’t tell me you’ve never threaded cranberries before.”
“I can’t say that I have. Have you?” he asked.
“No,” she admitted. “I only said that, so it would sound like something one should do for the holidays.”
“How did this idea come to mind?”
“My father’s cousin lives in America and sent an entire crate of cranberries to us. My mother has no idea what to do with them. I mentioned it to my friend, Lillian, and she said the Americans often thread them on a string for decoration on the Christmas tree.”
“Hmm. It seems like an odd tradition.”
“Not if you don’t have anything else with which to decorate.”
“Don’t evergreens provide enough decoration?”
“Adding a touch of red makes everything more festive,” Violet advised. She gave him a pointed look. “You did say you were going to help, right?”
“I didn’t realize it would involve a needle and thread.”
“I promise not to tell a soul.”
Baxter appeared less than impressed with her pledge. Then to her surprise, he picked up the needle.
“Be sure to tie a knot at the end of the thread first.”
He did as she suggested then selected a cranberry from the bowl.
For some reason, the small gesture of him helping her string the cranberries sent her heart pounding madly. She knew he did it for his parents and not her, but her heart didn’t seem to care. She bit her lip, realizing that with each day that passed, her feelings for Baxter were growing by leaps and bounds.
But he’d soon be leaving. The idea of not seeing him each day hurt already.
~*~
A short time later, Baxter lingered in the doorway of the small sitting room near his parents’ bedrooms, listening as Violet read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens to them. Her enthusiasm for the tale was apparent in the cadence of her voice. It was a far more entertaining story rather than the Seven Curses book. She even changed her tone for the various characters, making it a delight to listen to her performance.
He’d been passing through the foyer the previous day when she’d knocked on the front door. When he’d opened it, she’d been laughing. He still wanted to know why. The joy in her expression was something he wished he could imprint on his mind to pull out later when he was alone in Bombay.
Earlier, when they’d strung the cranberries on the thread, a task he would’ve refused to do without her at his side, he’d dearly wanted to toss aside the red berries in favor of kissing her again. No matter what they were doing, he enjoyed spending time with her.
Her joy and honesty were refreshing in an age where others tended to hide not only their intent but any hint of happiness. Ennui tended to be preferable and more fashionable.
Not for Violet.
Now, as he listened to her share an exciting scene, he couldn’t bring himself to join them. He feared his growing feelings for her would be obvious to not only his parents but Violet as well. That would be disastrous.
Though she’d apologized for declaring he was the last person she’d consider as a suitor, he couldn’t remove the words from his mind. For all he knew, that could very well be how she felt. Perhaps her true feelings had slipped out when she’d been speaking with her friend.
But how did that explain her response to the kisses they’d shared? Even thinking of them heated his blood.
He suddenly realized the sitting room had fallen silent. A rustle of fabric caught his notice a moment too late.
“Baxter?” Violet whispered as she appeared in the doorway. “What are you doing out here?”
“I was passing by and paused to listen.” The lie came readily to his lips. Did she believe it? He hoped so as he certainly didn’t want to share the truth. That he was becoming entranced by her.
“Your father fell asleep.” She gestured toward the sitting room.
He nodded.
“Your mother is going to sit with him until he wakes.”
“Good.” Which left him with nothing more to say. He gestured for her to precede him down the hall as he searched his mind for something to f
ill the awkward silence. “Did you find somewhere to gather evergreen boughs and holly?”
“No, unfortunately not.”
“I believe I’ve found a way to do so.”
“That’s wonderful.” The happiness shining in her eyes made him feel as if he’d conquered a mountain. “Could we gather it the day before Christmas Eve? That way it will still be fresh when we decorate.”
“Do you really hold to the nonsense of it being bad luck to bring greenery in the house prior to Christmas Eve?”
“Who am I to question traditions?” She smiled. “I’m going to find Watsford and request tea for your mother.”
He nodded, watching as she walked down the hall, wondering again how he was going to survive when he returned to the loneliness of Bombay.
Chapter Ten
Violet dressed in her warmest wool dress and donned her heaviest stockings two days later. She’d even asked Ruth, her maid, to find the muff she hadn’t worn in several years.
Not only had Baxter found a place to gather evergreens, but they were also doing so with a group. It sounded like the perfect outing for the cold winter’s day. Christmas Eve would arrive tomorrow, and the decorating would begin.
And Baxter would be gone soon after.
She swallowed hard at the thought, determined to enjoy the little time she had left with him. Besides, there was so much for which to be grateful.
Mr. Adley was feeling better each day to everyone’s delight. His mobility was limited, but he was in fine spirits. His excitement over Christmas was much like that of a young boy. That made Violet even more determined to make the holiday special. She had several decorations prepared, but none of it would be complete without some evergreens and holly.
Her stockings and boots should help keep her warm, along with a felt hat. She heard the doorbell chime from her bedroom and grabbed her muff and hooded cape to hurry downstairs.
Baxter stepped into the foyer as the footman closed the door. “Good afternoon. Are you ready for our outing?”
“I believe I am, though I’m still not certain where we’re going.”
He only smiled as he escorted her to a carriage he’d rented. “We’ll collect Viscount Beaumont and his niece and nephew then continue to where we’ll gather the greenery.”
“Wonderful.” She didn’t insist on knowing their destination. She rather enjoyed surprises. “I’ve met the viscount before, but what fun to have the children along.”
Baxter smiled. “I didn’t think you’d mind their company. He’s doing his best to keep them entertained until he finds a suitable governess.”
“That’s no easy task. Are you certain you don’t want to tell me where we’re going?” She might enjoy surprises, but she couldn’t help but ask. “A hint, perhaps?”
“You’ll learn it soon enough.” The smile on his face along with the teasing glint in his eyes was enough to cause her heart to stammer.
Why couldn’t she remember that he’d soon be leaving? She bit her lip, reminding herself to simply enjoy the day.
They soon joined Viscount Beaumont along with his young niece and nephew in his coach, hot coals at their feet to warm them.
“Do you think it might snow?” the young boy asked, nearly bouncing in excitement.
“We will hope not,” Viscount Beaumont answered.
But as they made their way to the outskirts of London, large flakes started to fall. The children were nearly delirious with joy at the sight.
Violet looked out the window, puzzled by the passing scenery. “We’re nearing the Duke of Burbridge’s estate, aren’t we?” She glanced at Baxter to find him smiling.
“That is exactly where we’re going. I ran into him not long ago, and the topic of Christmas arose. When I mentioned we were in need of holly and boughs, he invited us to join the fun.”
Violet chuckled, pleased at the idea. “I assume my friend, Lillian, will be there as well?”
“I believe she will.”
Violet grinned. That made the day even more perfect.
In short order, she’d hugged Lillian and greeted the duke along with the others joining them—over a dozen in all. They clambered into two wagons and ventured through the snow-covered fields toward the woods. The snowflakes continued intermittently, lending a festive atmosphere as they stuck to the ground.
“I like him,” Lillian whispered. “I think you should reconsider your answer to my question.”
Warmth flooded Violet. Before she could respond, they were interrupted by the others.
“Will there be holly?” Viscount Beaumont’s niece asked the duke as she moved to sit beside him. “And mistletoe?”
“Of course,” said Burbridge. “What would Christmas be without those?”
Once they reached the area, they exited the wagons. The duke handed out several small saws as well as an axe or two and they were off, spreading out into the woods.
The day was absolutely perfect, Violet decided as she walked beside Baxter. With her hand tucked in the crook of his arm, she sighed with delight, tipping her face up to catch snowflakes. It felt glorious. “This is perfect. Well done.”
“She says with a touch of surprise.” He grinned at her.
She couldn’t help but laugh. “I admit it. Once again, you’ve surprised me. I didn’t expect you to be such an excellent dance partner, and I certainly didn’t expect you to want to join this kind of outing. I feared we’d be climbing the neighbor’s tree to cut a few boughs.”
“I’m pleased you’re enjoying it.” His gaze searched the trees as they walked. “Do I see a hint of red berries over there?” he asked as he pointed.
“Yes!” Violet rushed forward, dragging Baxter along with her. “We must hurry before the others see the spot.”
“I wasn’t aware this was a competition.”
“Of course it is,” she said with a laugh.
Baxter climbed up the tree branches and clipped some holly, tossing it gently down to Violet who caught it in her arms. They moved to another tree to cut several evergreen boughs as well. Occasional shouts from the other members of the party could be heard, but none of their friends were in sight.
Baxter seemed to be enjoying himself despite his initial reluctance to plan Christmas for his parents. As he cut more branches, she called out, “I think we have more than enough.”
“You’ll need a few for your house too, won’t you?”
The pleasure that filled her at his thoughtfulness had her sighing with longing.
When he’d cut more and had to pile them to the side as Violet’s arms were overflowing, she laughed. “Enough,” she ordered. “We’ll never make it back to the wagon.”
He chuckled in response as he climbed down only to lose his footing in the damp moss on the ground, falling onto his back.
“Oh dear,” Violet said as she dropped the armful of branches to rush toward him. “Are you all right?”
He laid there laughing. “Yes, yes.”
“Here.” She offered him her hand, shaking her head at his behavior. “I’ll help you up.”
Before she knew what he was about, he pulled her down on top of him. “Baxter!”
His laughter faded as his gaze captured hers. “Violet.” He said her name softly, as both an answer and a question layered with a pinch of promise. Placing both hands on her waist, he shifted her to fit more firmly against him.
The intimacy of the moment shocked her, stealing her breath. His gaze swung from her eyes to her lips and back again. Yes, she thought. I want that too. At that moment, she decided to seize it.
She lowered her lips to his. His mouth was warm against hers. She no longer felt the cold. Instead, a delicious heat filled her from head to toe.
His gloved hands roamed over her form. Though layers and layers of clothing separated them, she imagined those strong hands bare and moving over her. Heat pooled low in her belly, giving her the urge to shift against him.
“Miss Fairchild? Adley.” The sound of a male voice ca
lling for them broke the kiss.
But rather than shift away, Baxter pulled her tighter against him in an embrace, squeezing her heart. “I suppose we must rise and join the others.”
The rumble of his words through his chest caused her breasts to tighten in the most delightful way. She wanted to remain right where she was. Not even the concern of discovery caused her to move, though she knew she should.
But at last, Baxter eased her to one side and managed to rise, lifting her upright with him. His heated gaze held on her before he straightened her cape and brushed the snow and moss from it. He turned her in a circle and did the same to the other sides of her.
With a smile, Violet returned the favor. To her surprise, Baxter kissed her again, lingering before he drew back.
“Adley, where are you?” called the voice again.
“Here we are,” Baxter shouted to whoever searched for them. “Ready?” he asked her.
It took all of her wherewithal to nod, but she didn’t dare say a word for fear it would be a refusal. She wanted to stay right where she was, in the circle of Baxter’s arms with his lips upon hers.
~*~
Baxter watched Violet as they all enjoyed hot chocolate, tea, cake, biscuits, and a selection of sandwiches in the duke’s drawing room. A fire burned cheerfully in the hearth and spirits were high as they shared stories from the outing.
Beaumont’s young niece and nephew were playing in the nursery with a maid. No doubt they’d sleep soundly on the drive back to London.
Beaumont moved to stand near Baxter. “You look as if you want to have her for lunch and perhaps supper as well.”
Baxter frowned. He didn’t care to think his feelings for Violet were so obvious. “She’s been a true blessing to my parents.”
“Nothing wrong with a little dalliance before you return to Bombay. Just don’t do more than that. Our friends are dropping like flies on dung into marriage.”
Baxter stared at his friend. “That’s a terrible way to put it.”
Beaumont lifted a casual shoulder. “I don’t see the advantage of tying the knot.” He tugged at his cravat as if the thought of it was enough to make him choke. “We’re far too young to worry about families and the like. We deserve to have a bit of fun first.”
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