Christmas Fete

by Barbara Miller

  Dinah, dressed in her riding habit, was drinking a cup of weak tea and desperately wishing for some coffee. Her expectations had not been high after the thin soup they had dined on for supper. She wasn’t even sure what kind of soup it was supposed to be. Clearly these women needed help if they were down to having broth for meals. If only she and her father had been informed about the death sooner, they could have ridden to the rescue before the cook was reduced to a twice-used soup bone.

  George wandered in, his brown curls less tidy than usual, poking at a piece of paper with a pencil.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Trying for a rhyme for lady.”

  “Dear God, has she driven you to poetry? Stop that nonsense and have some toast. It is delicious even if the tea is weak. The cook or someone must be an excellent baker.”

  “I’m not hungry. And what is that doodle there? It appears to be the profile of our heroic neighbor, able to scoop up helpless maidens and carry them to their bedchambers without stopping for a breath.”

  Dinah pushed her sketchbook aside. “Don’t tell me you resent him taking effective action. Besides, I study faces and his is not Italian or Greek, but it’s not your standard British profile either.”

  George leaned over and regarded the small drawing. She was glad he hadn’t seen the full-color fantasy of Richard she had painted the previous evening or he might be even more sarcastic. “He’s a Celt. Not one of those ginger-haired Irishmen but a dark-featured Celt from the old days of Europe. It’s his sort who defeated three legions of Romans in the Teutonic forest. Now who’s infatuated?” George flopped down in a chair, ignoring the tea she poured for him.

  Dinah stared at him and marveled that his university education had finally provided her with a useful scrap of information. “What if I do admire him? I hope you do not interfere. He plans to give us a tour of the estate.”

  “You go with him. I mean to rusticate until my fair one arises.”

  Dinah choked on a sip. “You make her sound like a ghost.”

  “Or until Freddy and Giles get here, whichever comes first.”

  “I had forgotten about them,” Dinah said. “I had better inform the staff.” She got up and was turning the knob of the door when she said, “Are you sure you don’t want to see the estate?”

  “If you’d like to think I am being considerate so you can admire your Romeo without me sniggering behind your back, you may do so.”

  “Sadly you have no interest in the estate.”

  “Less than none. Back to the task at hand.” He squinted at the paper lying on his breakfast plate. “Lady, baby…no.”

  “Why not end the line with another word, such as ring, sing, sting, ding?”

  “Ring and sing. Perfect.”

  “If your friends appear, take yourselves into the village and see if you can hire me some musicians for Christmas-night dancing.”

  “Do they dance here Christmas night?” George asked.

  “It’s a Monday, not a Sunday. I don’t see why they would object. If dancing is something new for the holiday, we shall start the custom.”

  * * * * *

  It took Dinah only a few minutes to convey her news to the hard-pressed cook and her two daughters, who worked in the kitchen and kept the rooms, plus served as maids to Mary Ann and Ophelia. The butler came in then and she inquired about the quarter day. It turned out none of them had been paid since before their lord’s death. That she could fix immediately and went upstairs to break into her trove.

  It took her only a few minutes to count the wages into packets, including the money for the footman, groom and garden boy. When she went downstairs again, she found the servants smiling with relief and she assured them supplies and coal would be forthcoming so that they could entertain in style this holiday.

  There were only five house staff, so she suggested hiring two more girls to help with all the cooking and baking they might have to do. This caused almost as much excitement as the wages, and Dinah assumed they had girls in mind for the jobs.

  She found herself optimistic about their mission now that she had the staff on her side. Richard was not here yet so she put on her coat and gloves and let herself out the back door, which was across the yard from the stables. She walked down the row of box stalls. The only horses present were two carriage horses. She came back out just as Richard appeared with a cover hack and a neat brown mare in tow.

  “George won’t be coming this morning. I wish I had been able to tell you.”

  “It doesn’t matter. Bob can eat his head off while we are gone.”

  The groom, Jason, grinned at Richard and took the third mount into the stable.

  Richard dismounted to aid her but she took the reins and stroked the mare for a time, also giving it a sugar lump she had snitched from the breakfast parlor.

  “I should have asked first.”

  “Lucy will be your servant for life now.”

  Dinah led the mare to the mounting block and hopped on unaided. When she turned to Richard, she caught surprise on his face. “Sorry. Should I have waited for help? Is that the conventional thing to do? I’m never sure.”

  Richard smiled. “You are the sort to make your own rules, not follow convention.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper, but she had no trouble hearing him because the chords of his speech vibrated her insides as though she were tuned to him and no one else. Everything he said was important to her.

  “I must warn you I am not in society much, though society people come to my soirees. But I have a great deal of control over my life because I am not constrained by the rules of others.”

  Richard mounted Lancer. “An optimal position to be in.” He wished he were not constrained by the rules of honor. “You might like to see the sheepfolds first. They are the main income for both our places and we trade breeding stock to insure good crosses.”

  He trotted his horse toward a shallow hill and Dinah gave the mare rein to follow. Once he saw she wasn’t going to fall off, he let his horse break into a canter and she caught up to ride beside him. He enjoyed watching the flush this activity brought to her cheeks. Ophelia was terrified of horses.

  They dropped to a walk when they got to the rise and he stopped to point out the boundary and the flocks.

  “Tell me what I need to understand about sheep, for the books I have read are sadly uninformative.” So she had already studied sheep.

  “Do you plan to run the estate yourself then?” After he said it he realized she might take offence. He was quite sure she was capable of running the estate.

  “Only until my brother takes an interest. Then I can teach him what he needs.”

  Richard had been planning to bring the conversation around to Ophelia and himself but wondered if he should first ascertain Dinah’s opinion about living in the country. She might not even welcome his intentions since he thought London a bore. “Will you and your father stay here?”

  “I might but Father says he isn’t interested. Does it matter? If he isn’t well liked in the district, that could be why he is running shy of the place.”

  “It’s just that it’s an easier job for a man than a woman. Not that you can’t manage it.”

  “That’s what I said, which is why George was sent.”

  “Otherwise Henry would have dispatched you alone?” Richard asked. That actually matched what he recalled of Henry, who respected the capabilities of women.

  “Yes, I fear so. Will Mary Ann find me too managing? Will the neighbors not deal with a woman as they would with a man?”

  “She doesn’t care much about the flocks unless something goes wrong and threatens the living. Of course, even that worry isn’t hers anymore. As for the neighbors, I shall put in a good word for you.”

  “Thank you so much, Richard. But I should do something, throw a dinner so the neighbors can meet us and find out we are not ogres.”

  “That might serve.”

  They cantered then on a track that wound up a hill to t
he low sheep barn, where they were greeted by Liam.

  Diane gave a sigh and smiled at the flock. “I am surprised to see the sheep out eating grass rather than the hay in their shed.”

  The shepherd leaned on his crook. “With those fleeces, they are warm enough. Bit o’ green grass is better for the ewes than hay. Need to get them salt though.”

  “I’ll send someone to the village for it,” Richard said. “Liam works on shares for both of us. I mean both estates.”

  “I see. No lambs?”

  “Not this time of year. ’Twill come in March and April. At least I hope no one drops lambs until spring.”

  They left the shepherd smiling over his charges and walked the horses slowly through the pastures, where the sheep ignored them.

  Once again Richard struggled to broach the subject of Ophelia, but Dinah seemed so happy he could not bear to cast a shadow on this stolen day.

  “You were acquainted with Rupert Loukes as well as my father?”

  “Yes, but your father was my favorite. I remember him being a very passionate man. That’s what I recall most. People enjoyed being in his company because he made light of misfortune and shared.

  “Shared what?”

  “Whatever he had—food, drink, money. Beyond that he was generous with his time. He taught me how to fish and hunt.”

  “He is a generous man, but it would be better if he did not come.”

  “I would like to see him again.”

  “This can only bring back bitter memories for him, being cast off by his uncle, then the broken engagement.”

  “Is it possible Mary Ann was the one to break the engagement? Rupert was always the heir. Henry’s uncle liking him better could not change that.” Richard realized this was wishful thinking on his part because he wanted Ophelia to free him.

  “So Mary Ann married Rupert because he was the heir?”

  “Initially she defied her father to make a secret engagement with Henry. He told me about it. Then he left her.”

  “At the altar?”

  “Not quite. He just disappeared without a word to me or anyone else. The next day her engagement to Rupert was announced, but enough people knew about Henry’s offer to cause a scandal.”

  “That could reflect on George. I must do what I can to improve relations with the local populace.”

  “You can wine and dine them but how can you control their good will?”

  “Make them like George for himself and forget what Father did. George is the future. I need something more extraordinary than a dinner. We have just enough time to contact people before the holiday. I shall need your assistance with the guest list.”

  “Yes, of course.” A large guest list meant lots of people for Ophelia to reveal the engagement to. He felt the noose tightening around his neck.

  Dinah smiled at him. “How much brighter the day seems now that I have a plan. Tell me more about sheep.”

  On the way back to the house, Richard abandoned the idea of revealing his engagement to Ophelia. Nothing would stifle their growing friendship faster than saying he intended to marry someone else, a mere child in fact. Dinah was not that much older than Ophelia in years, but she was so much more engaging. She struck him as a woman who would tell the plain truth and never scheme to get what she wanted.

  What would she think of him when she found out? Possibly nothing. She might have no interest in an older neighbor who was merely showing her the estate. He should not gauge the strength of her feelings based on his, though he wanted to. So long as he said nothing, he did not relinquish all hope. Ophelia might still change her mind. She often did.

  For the moment he lectured Dinah on the difference between the Hampshire sheep and the Merinos and on short staple versus long staple wool. He wished now he had asked Liam for some samples. There would be no problem with her getting on terms with Liam now that she had shown such interest in the flock. He desperately wanted to work with her, to be with her each and every day. They seemed to fit together like two halves of the same heart.

  Richard realized he had managed the flocks on his own these last years while Rupert hunted or drank. Belatedly he resented doing the work the older man should have shared.

  He had never complained because he cared about the flocks and Rupert did not. Richard was the one who scheduled the traveling shearers and paid them as well. Rupert would never have gotten to it.

  He wondered if Rupert had expectations of the two estates someday being merged. If so he’d never spoken of it, though a good father would have tried to make a marriage for his daughter. Or had Richard been blind to the nudges? Well, for better or worse, the families would be united, though not the estates. If only he had delayed his proposal by a day. To cry off now would make him more infamous than Henry had been decades ago.

  When they returned from the hill, a carter’s wagon was drawn up at the back of the house and a burly individual was unloading crates and sacks, barrels and boxes. The kitchen servants stood by, stunned as the horn of plenty continued to pour out treasures.

  “Oh joy, our supplies have arrived.”

  They pulled their horses to a stop to watch.

  Richard chuckled at the looks on the servants’ faces. “I see you meant to have a party even before you arrived here. You planning on entertaining an army?”

  “Possibly we could but it doesn’t pay to stint when you hope for company and I assumed the larder might be bare here. Is there anyone else in your household to invite?”

  “Just my mother.” Who wasn’t even speaking to him at the moment.

  “You must bring her, though I would love to meet her ahead of time.”

  “I will arrange it. So you always planned to throw a lavish entertainment?”

  “Before you gave me the idea? Yes, but I see now it will have to be something exceptional. I’m considering a fete: dinner at the house, skating and games in the snow followed by a bonfire, then a late supper inside with sweets and wines. Let’s not forget the dancing if George can find me musicians.”

  Richard smiled in spite of the heaviness of his heart. “You make it sound so joyful.”

  “I suppose I am good at faking a joyous Christmas. It was only George and me for the holidays. Often Father was not even in the country so we listened to the servants’ music and laughter, wishing for a bigger family.”

  “I had no idea. I had four sisters so we always had plenty of excitement.”

  “How could you have failed to mention them? Sisters, you say?”

  “None close enough to accept your invitation, I fear.”

  “But you understand what I mean to accomplish, laughter and jokes and a special kind of warmth you get inside without the aid of wine.”

  “Yes, a sense that all is right with the world.”

  “I have come close a few times but I keep missing the mark and I don’t understand why.”

  “Perhaps you are too generous, too caught up in caring for others.”

  “You mean I want the joy of the season too much for everyone?”

  “Something like that, but the Christmas spirit does seem to be tied up with company. People, we can supply.”

  “They might come only to be able to gossip about us later. Besides, George has invited two of his friends from town. The local folk will surely come to inspect the London swells.”

  “I wish I had your confidence about things.”

  She turned to him with a teary smile. “I did mention I fake it sometimes.”

  “There is nothing of the fake about you.”

  “You grasp what I’m aiming for—a wistfulness, something that says home.”

  “I understand what you mean, for I have experienced such joy, but not for a long time.”

  “Then you can be my companion on the quest to find meaning in Christmas.”

  “A task I am ill suited for.”

  She sent him a pleading look.

  “But I will do my best.” He smiled at her and noted that she let him help her d
ismount. His hands on her waist, the delicious slide of her off the horse and into his arms, imbued him with confidence in himself where he deserved none. Her magic was already at work.

  Richard knew he should tell her now about the engagement with Ophelia. But he could not in her present happy state. With any luck he or Ophelia would die before Christmas and Dinah would never have to know, or at least he would never have to see her face when she found out.

  When Richard seemed on the point of leaving, Dinah turned to him. “Please stay for luncheon. We can work on the guest list afterward.”

  He nodded and asked the groom to unsaddle and tend the horses. Dinah strode toward the carter, took the bill of lading and gave the man a coin. They went inside and found Mary Ann and Ophelia staring out the window.

  “So much,” Mary Ann said in awe.

  “My brother has invited friends from London, so the supplies are by way of apology for imposing on you. Would the neighbors find it odd if we threw a small entertainment, just to get acquainted?” She saw Richard wrinkle an eyebrow at her use of the word small.

  Mary Ann’s face changed from confused to pained. “It’s your house. I’m sure you may do as you please.” She turned and left them.

  Ophelia seemed torn between running after her mother and making excuses for her. “Please forgive Mother. You can’t imagine what it’s been like, scrimping to get by until we found out our fate.”

  “I should have asked first,” Dinah said. “I have cheapened your sacrifice when all I was trying to do is help.”

  “I understand and Mother will come ’round eventually. It’s very odd how calm she was when we expected to be leaving here. Now that there is no need, she is strangely unquiet.”

  “Having one’s expectations thwarted can be disquieting even if they are not the best expectations,” Richard said.

  Ophelia blushed at this for no reason Dinah could see. “I suppose she will take lunch in her room.”

  Dinah took Ophelia’s hand in hers. “How do you feel about a party, truly?”