Christmas Fete

by Barbara Miller

  “Why should you care? It’s Father’s house now, so I can invite whomever I like.”

  As though she didn’t have enough to worry about, he had to spring unexpected company on her at the last moment. “It’s a good thing the carter is bringing victuals and wines. We wouldn’t want to empty their larder.”

  “Why did Father send me in his stead? He’s not ill or something, is he?”

  Dinah smiled at this glimpse of concern. “So far as I see he enjoys his usual health, but he claims business in Bristol.”

  “I could have handled that for him. There’s some reason he’s running shy of the place.”

  “Not to mention Christmas. I believe he actually liked the Bristol trip coming his way. It gave him an excuse to dodge the holidays again.”

  George nodded. “It does seem to be more than losing Mother at this time of year that bothers him.”

  “And this will be your opportunity to find out what it is. Just be polite to the ladies and they will fall all over you and reveal Father’s past secrets.”

  “Christmas.” George leaned back against the seat with a fond smile. “You always made it fun, or as much as a child who is left in the care of servants can manage.”

  Dinah was surprised at this reminder of her desperate quest for holiday spirit. “You came home from school for the holidays. That was something to look forward to.”

  “You have me for the whole holiday this time. I have to stay now because I asked Giles and Freddy to join us.”

  “Giles and Freddy? Oh, George. I wish you had not asked them in particular. You know how much they drink, and the ladies of the house might not approve of strangers falling in on them.”

  “And what are we if not strangers? Besides, wouldn’t they have vacated?”

  “George, be serious. Did Father explain nothing? Where would they go?”

  “Oh, right. We’ve inherited the relatives as well.”

  Dinah leaned forward and smacked his knuckles with her sketchbook.

  “Ow, you are damn wicked with that thing.”

  “You say anything so crack-brained to them and I will take it to your head.”

  When the carriage stopped, George jumped out to help her down, but she hopped out herself and brushed him aside. The footman unloaded their baggage and a grim-faced butler greeted them and led them inside, where a maid waited to take their coats.

  The butler led them through a great hall that echoed their footsteps. He threw open double doors into a drawing room where two women awaited as though about to face their executioner.

  The older one rose to meet them. She was still attractive, the gray in her hair having but lightened the gold. The younger stood, as well, pulling nervously at the knot of light-blonde curls at her neck. She plucked at her jonquil dress and seemed so much on the point of tears, Dinah was afraid to say anything for a moment.

  “I’m Lady Hammersmith.” The woman faltered even as she said it and must have recalled that her circumstances had changed irrevocably.

  Dinah smiled as she approached. “Dinah Claypool.”

  “Please call me Mary Ann. This is my daughter Ophelia.”

  “Allow me to present my brother George Claypool.”

  Mary Ann sighed. “Please sit. I’ve ordered tea.”

  “That would be most welcome, won’t it, George? George?”

  Her brother was standing stock-still, staring at the ethereal Ophelia.

  “So pleased to me you,” he finally said.

  He took her hand and grazed her fingers with his lips, then waited until the ladies were all seated before finding a chair himself. Ophelia’s pallor was now replaced by a virginal flush.

  Dinah glanced at Mary Ann but apparently Ophelia had this effect on men. Their hostess didn’t seem to note George’s stunned-ox gaze.

  “My father sends his regrets, “Dinah said. “The news took us by surprise and he is unavoidably delayed by business.”

  “We are here to see what we can do to help,” George said, quoting his sister from previous conversations. So he had been paying attention.

  “Help?” Ophelia whispered, almost as though it was a plea and not a suggestion.

  “Yes. Father wants to make sure you are comfortable.” George smiled. “This sudden loss must have left you unsettled. Any service we can do to help settle his obligation, I mean make you feel better about him not coming himself yet. He will come eventually, possibly by Christmas.”

  Dinah found herself gaping at her brother, who never fumbled in conversation but had almost run out of air this time. The dewy-eyed Ophelia had caught him by surprise. When he was finished, she supported his assurances. “Yes, indeed. Father’s solicitors have pawed through the bills in London and settled everything they found there. But there may be local tradesmen we can handle for you, or even repairs that need to be made.”

  “I’m sure I don’t understand,” Mary Ann said with a blank stare.

  The tea came in the nick of time and drew Ophelia’s attention away from George. “I forgot. I made an inventory for you.” Ophelia pushed two sheaves of papers into his hands. “The longer list is the furnishings that belong to the estate. The shorter one details our possessions, the ones we shall take with us.”

  “Take with you?” George asked as Mary Ann handed him a cup and saucer. “Take where?”

  Ophelia wet her lips. “Wherever we go to live.”

  “But why are you going anywhere?” George asked, at variance with his former assumption.

  There was a dent between Mary Ann’s brows. “We thought you would want the house to yourselves.”

  “Oh, no, you must not go,” George said desperately.

  “How could you imagine we would want you to leave?” Dinah asked. “This is your home. At best we will be occasional guests.” She should have said at worst they would be occasional guests but she was not yet sure which would apply. Damn the English language.

  “Yes, please, you must stay, both of you.” George glanced from one woman to the other. “Tell me that you will.”

  Mary Ann smiled through a few tears and said, “If that is indeed what you wish.”

  “More than anything,” George breathed.

  Dinah took a cup of tea Ophelia had been holding in a transfixed way. “That’s all settled then.” She should have said at the very most, not least or worst. That was the thing about speech. You never got a chance to edit it.

  Ophelia was paler than ever. “Do you really mean it?” She stood up then and spun around just as Mr. Richard Chandler was announced and an Adonis entered the room.

  Dinah sucked in a breath as she rose to greet him. His dark gaze bored into her as though he could read her soul and his straight black hair fell over his forehead in a tempting manner. He would be the envy of Giles and Freddy for that mane of hair.

  Ophelia immediately fainted dead away. Fortunately the new arrival was able to catch her before she hit the carpet.

  “Say she is not ill,” George begged.

  “No, she faints all the time,” Chandler informed them as he lifted her.

  Mary Ann nodded. “The past few months have been stressful.”

  Dinah ordered him to lay the girl on the sofa and then rubbed her hands while Mary Ann went for a vinaigrette. George’s face appeared as ashen as Ophelia’s.

  Chandler put a pillow under her feet and poured a glass of water, which he flicked in her face. By the time Mary Ann returned, Ophelia had revived enough to be carried upstairs by Chandler. Mary Ann went with him to tuck her in.

  “Was there ever such an angel?” George asked.

  “Apparently not. She struck you dumb.” Dinah seated herself and finished her tea.

  George stood gazing at the open door. “Did I make much of a fool of myself?”

  Dinah smiled. “A charming fool. You are truly taken with her.”

  “She is so innocent, so trusting and sweet. I have never met anyone like her.”

  “All the more reason I caution you not t
o do anything to hurt her.”

  “How could I possibly?”

  “By trifling with her feelings. She seems a sensitive girl.”

  He dropped down in the chair across from her. “My trifling days are over. Ophelia is such a brave, noble woman. Dinah, I am in love. Don’t you believe me?”

  “Oddly I do. I wonder why she was overcome just when Chandler arrived.”

  George sat up straight and looked offended. “It was my offer of a home that overset her feelings. She was overcome with relief.”

  “Really? I can’t see why.”

  “I must get the servants to make her some broth or something.” He dashed out on this mission just as Chandler came back in.

  Dinah took up the teapot in Mary Ann’s absence to pour a cup for him. “Is she going to be all right? Should we send for the doctor?”

  “Ophelia has a delicate constitution, or so she has always said. It may have been the strain she’s endured or the excitement of your arrival.”

  “We had just informed them they are to stay at the house. That should not have upset her. It seemed to be your arrival that sent her off.”

  Richard flushed a little. “I can’t see why that would be. She’s the one who asked me to come today.”

  Dinah studied him, wondering why their kindness would embarrass him. But then she got excited about the planes of his face and his brooding eyebrows and dismissed Ophelia’s vagaries from her mind. “At any rate, thank you for your quick action.”

  “I am their nearest neighbor. The estates adjoin at the top of the hill. Your father sent you and your brother in his stead?”

  “Business detained him. It strikes me you might be able to advise me on the needs of the estate. I’m assuming you were in Rupert’s confidence about plans and management.”

  “In fact, I was in his confidence. I can show you and your brother about the estate if Mary Ann doesn’t wish to do it.”

  “Father wants to make what improvements are needed but I fear we may appear interfering or do something wrong in the absence of an agent.”

  “I can smooth the way for your aid.” He took a sip of tea, his dark brows furrowed over troubled eyes. Then he glanced at Dinah and her heart skipped several beats, for she could not read his expression at all, so divergent was it from his words. “Truly, they have a home here as long as they wish?”

  Dinah ventured a smile at him. “I could not imagine it otherwise.”

  “You’ve made me happy as well. I have been concerned about them, so much so that—never mind. Would you rather go by carriage or ride?”

  He said he was happy at this turn of affairs, yet his firm mouth was still grim. She glanced at the frozen ground outside and the sky promising snow. “Considering the weather, the carriage might be prudent.”

  “Oh, you don’t ride?”

  She had disappointed him already. “I do, of course. It was an important part of my training at Miss Crossly’s Finishing School. She said all noblemen would wish their wives to ride.” Oh dear, why had she mentioned marriage? But she thought she perceived the hint of a smirk.

  “And what advice did she give you about horses?”

  “A horse is no more trustworthy than a…”

  “A man?” He finally smiled at her. He had an enchanting smile. It was a good thing he did not use it much or every woman he met would fall in love with him.

  “Yes. I fear she was a spinster by choice in spite of training girls up to be wives.”

  “She may have had good reason not to trust men. Many of them are not worthy of a woman’s trust.”

  Dinah breathed easier as he encouraged her confidences. “She gave lessons on how to be alluring, flirtatious and socially adroit, not to mention how to keep accurate books. Unfortunately she did not show us how to understand men.” Dear lord, what a horrible thing to say.

  “That might be something that comes only with experience…like the understanding of women.”

  “I understand my brother most of the time but we grew up together and he is only two years older than me. Sometimes I understand my father—until he does something capricious like sending us here without him.”

  “He is no longer well liked in the district because of jilting Mary Ann. As a boy I looked up to him, but I recall the scandal. It happened just before Christmas.”

  “Jilted her?” Diane’s cup and saucer rattled together so badly she set them on the table with shaking hands. “That doesn’t sound like something Father would do.” She felt her cheeks burning even though she could not believe it.

  “I assure you that’s what happened.”

  “That was a long time ago. Could you be mistaken?”

  “It was the talk of the region. This is not London, where every scandal is a seven-day wonder. People here never let go of an offense.”

  “If this is true I see why he would be reluctant to appear.” She rubbed her hands against her skirt, trying to still the shaking.

  “I’ve upset you. I’m sorry.” He did seem regretful at breaking such horrible news.

  “I wish I had known.” It would be like her father to send her into a situation ill prepared to deal with it. “How odd that Mary Ann initially accepted a proposal from someone with no expectations, rather than the heir himself.”

  “I found that strange as well. Fortunately Rupert was enamored of her so offered for her even after the broken engagement with Henry.”

  “Is it possible Father broke the engagement for her own good? He went to sea and had trouble supporting a family in those early years.”

  “Henry acted more on impulse than plan, but it’s possible. Odd how things worked out. If Mary Ann had married your father, she’d still have a husband and be Lady Hammersmith now.”

  Dinah shook her head. “But Ophelia would not exist.”

  “Excitable, passionate Ophelia. Yes, let’s not forget that.” Chandler drained his cup and set it on the table.

  “And neither would I. My calm exterior doesn’t mean I cannot be passionate as well.” Why the devil had she said that?

  Chandler smiled again. “Forgive me for talking such nonsense. There is no point in speculating on what might have been. What are you passionate about?”

  “Christmas, for one thing. I always want to make the perfect Christmas with all the right feelings, because we never seemed to have a good Christmas while we were children.”

  “Do you ever succeed?”

  She held back the tears gathering in her eyes. “Never.”

  He gazed at her in surprise. “Yet you never cease trying?”

  “Of course not. I have changed my mind about the carriage. Please bring horses tomorrow, Mr. Chandler. It would seem more festive. I would prefer to ride.”

  “Call me Richard. Everyone does. I’ll bring horses for you and your brother around nine if that’s convenient. For now I expect I should leave you in peace so you can settle in.”

  “And please call me Dinah. It will seem more like a family holiday then.”

  He nodded and strode out, a man of action—and what a profile. Her hands itched for her sketchbook. Dinah watched covertly out the window while the groom went to saddle his horse. Then Richard mounted and galloped off as though he were flying. She pressed her palms against the cold windowpane and held them to her cheeks to cool them.

  If she had spoken her admiration for Richard’s appearance, she would have scolded herself for sounding like George. She must keep her head even if her brother was about to lose his.

  What would she do if George had truly fallen for the fair Ophelia? It seemed judgmental to snitch to her father, who had rescued George from fortune hunters before. Dinah could not assume the girl was after George’s inheritance. Ophelia could have no notion of George’s prospects except this estate, and the worth of it could not be much. She must acquit the girl of ulterior motives. If Ophelia charmed George and managed to hold his attention for the length of their stay then she was welcome to him.

  Dinah went into the
hall and asked which room was hers. The maid, a timid girl of fifteen or so, showed her to a bedroom at the back of the second story, overlooking the stable yard. She was delighted with the butter-yellow wallpaper and airy bed hangings but declined the girl’s assistance in unpacking. She had never employed a personal maid, preferring her solitude and freedom.

  Dinah got out her paints, intent on capturing Richard’s image before it dissipated from her mind. No danger there, for she did not expect she could lose it, did not imagine she could ever erase his profile from her memory.

  * * * * *

  Richard realized he was riding Lancer too hard and pulled him up to force a calm on himself. He had just met someone who was not afraid of her shadow, a woman able to express emotions without weeping all over him, the antithesis of Ophelia, in fact, and someone he could never have because he was now bound to a childhood friend.

  Ophelia had set a trap for him and he had stepped into it like a lamb to slaughter. Now he was past caring what happened to him. All he could dwell on was Dinah’s green eyes and dark-brown ringlets, her rosy cheeks and determined mouth. It was as though he carried a miniature of her in his heart already and would never lose it, always to be there taunting him because he had married another.

  He walked his horse home, examining the few ways, all of them dishonorable, that he could extricate himself from the engagement. If he broke it off he could use the excuse that Ophelia now had a home, but a shelter was not equivalent to what marriage to him would bring. They would both be disgraced unless she hadn’t told anyone.

  Ophelia not tell such news? It was impossible. She must have confided it to her mother at least. Richard could face Mary Ann with his decision to withdraw from the match but that would be too cruel an echo of her own past.

  Whatever else he did, Richard decided he must tell Dinah that he was attached to Ophelia. He hesitated to take that step until he was sure there was no way out of it. He must speak to Ophelia first.

  Chapter Three

  Friday, 22 December, 1815

  Dinah was glad breakfast was informal at the house, with people gathering in the breakfast parlor as they chose or taking tea in their rooms. She wanted to get better acquainted with Mary Ann but feared the strain of knowing about the past botched engagement might cause her to make a misstep. She was not used to watching her words so closely.