After a particularly bawdy scene, the group’s laughter forced her to come to a stop. Jane’s face blushed a furious red, but her eyes were bright and an adorable smile pulled her lips. She caught Archie’s eye and winked—something he’d never seen her do before. Perhaps Jane wasn’t the timid young lady they all assumed. Perhaps she just needed an opportunity to display another side of herself. Archie wondered if they had all been so careful not to upset her that she felt smothered.
She continued to read, and his affection for her increased with every word.
After she’d read for the remainder of the morning, Jane came to a stopping point and closed the book. “I am sorry, we will have to hear the rest another day. My throat is raw.”
Archie jumped up, applauding. “A marvelous performance, Jane!”
“Hear, hear,” Jonathan said, rising as well.
The ladies stood. “If only I had roses to toss onto the stage,” Maryann said, grinning.
“Utterly shocking tale,” Kathleen said, smiling. “I enjoyed it very much.”
Jane swirled her hands, raising her arms and bending into an elaborate curtsey.
Archie didn’t think he’d ever seen her smile quite so brilliant. She practically glowed at the attention. He again wondered if they had been mistaken in their manner of caring for her.
Once the applause ended, she stepped toward Archie. “You were correct, Archie. You really are a marvelous party planner.”
Her face was flushed and her eyes bright. Archie did not think it improper at all at that moment to embrace her. “I have never heard an old Roman tale performed so gloriously,” he said, keeping his voice low, though the others were only feet away.
She drew back but remained in the circle of his arms. Her hand rested on his arm, a few inches above his elbow, the other clutched the book. “Thank you, Archie. For the gift and for the chance.” She shrugged, giving a small smile. “I—Thank you.”
His skin felt hot beneath her touch. Had she always had those few freckles on the bridge of her nose? How was a man expected to remain coherent with her gaze trained upon him? Her eyes were the most perfect shade of blue—nearly gray that darkened slightly at the edges—and at the moment, they were focused completely on him. His collar seemed to grow tighter. Where was the blasted mistletoe when he needed it?
Hearing the sound of furniture scraping on the floor, Jane released his arm and turned, the spell broken.
Jonathan and Maryann moved kitchen chairs out of the way as Kathleen carried a covered basket toward the table. She lifted the cloth and peered beneath. “Shall we see what our considerate Eliza Cringlewood left for luncheon?”
With Jane’s help, she laid the victuals on the table: a block of cheese, a loaf of bread, and a portion of ham. A simple meal, to be sure. Archie wrinkled his nose, thinking again of the fine meals he’d expected to give his friends.
Kathleen pressed her hand to her chest. “Oh, bless them.”
Hearing her words, Archie felt a swell of shame at his reaction. The Cringlewoods had undoubtedly given the best they were able, and none of the others seemed disappointed by the meager offering.
Maryann looked in the kitchen cupboards and only found one knife. “I suppose I shall start slicing. Jane, will you fetch the plates?”
“Wait,” Jonathan said. His mouth lifted in a smile. “Only the bread and ham. I have a better idea for the cheese.” He crossed the room to his sleeping chamber and returned with an armload of blankets. A moment later, they were spread over the floor in front of the fire.
Archie’s own smile grew. “Just like at Oxford, eh, old boy?”
Jonathan nodded. He searched through the kitchen and, in the end, looked through the wood pile, pulling out a handful of long, thin branches.
Archie brought the plates of sliced ham and bread and the lump of cheese. “What are you waiting for?” He knelt on the blankets, setting the plates next to him, then jerked his head to the side—a signal for the others to join him.
Jonathan removed his coat and sat before the fire, wearing only his shirtsleeves. “I hope you don’t mind my attire,” he said, loosening his neck cloth. “The hearth gets dratted hot.”
“Eating luncheon on the floor is hardly the time to be worried about propriety,” Maryann said. She sat with her feet to one side, adjusting her skirt over her legs. Kathleen knelt beside her.
Jane sat beside Archie.
Jonathan distributed the sticks, keeping two for himself. “Now, the trick is in the timing. You want the bread toasted, the ham hot, and the cheese soft and warm, but not fully melted. When it is done right and all are ready at the exact same time, the result is—”
“Exquisite,” Archie said.
Jonathan nodded. “Exquisite.” He handed a slice of bread to Archie, picked up a slice of ham, and broke off a chunk of cheese. “It works best with a partner.” He swept his hand toward the flames with an exaggerated gesture, holding his two laden sticks in one hand, spacing them between his fingers so the ham and cheese didn’t touch. “Allow us to demonstrate.”
Archie poked the end of the stick through the bread and extended it. He glanced at his friend and saw his nod, and a flood of memories crashed over him: sitting on the rug in a chilly Oxford student’s apartment; all the hours of conversation, the laughter, the grand ideas; discussing theories, coursework, and ladies; complaining about professors.
Jonathan was the Earl of Rensfield then—an ambitious young man, a serious person by nature—but now Archie could see the toll this past year had taken. With his father dead, the responsibilities of a great house sat squarely on Jonathan’s shoulders. He was a member of an important parliamentary committee and had a new wife, grieving mother, and troubled sister-in-law to care for. Now he often seemed heavy-burdened.
Yet today, Archie caught a glimpse of the younger man. He was relaxed and untroubled here in this simple cottage. Perhaps taking the time away from society, his house, and government duties, and being able to focus on his family was good for a man.
Jonathan twisted his wrist, adjusting the angle of his sticks to cook the cheese and ham evenly.
Archie turned the bread around to toast the other side, careful not to burn his fingers. The stick was every bit as effective as a long-handled fork, but it didn’t grow hot as a metal utensil did when held over a flame. He’d learned that lesson the hard way.
At length, Jonathan held out his sticks, and Archie removed the toasted bread, folded it, and used it to slide off the ham, then the soft cheese, smashing it between the two halves until it pushed out the sides.
“A masterpiece,” Jonathan said.
“As fine a creation as I’ve seen, sir.” Archie grinned and gave the toasted sandwich to Kathleen.
“Shall we allow these apprentices to try?” Jonathan made a show of sizing up Maryann and Jane.
“Yes, please.” Maryann reached toward the cheese.
Jonathan stopped her hand. “Patience, my dear. Patience is essential, or you end up with cheese overcooked on the edges and cold inside.” He shook his head as if this were an unbearable travesty.
“Bread that is too soft or chewy ham,” Archie added. “Creating a toasted sandwich requires more refined skill than one would assume.”
“I don’t know if they’re ready for such an enormous responsibility.” Jonathan sighed. “Perhaps a few years of training and they just might—”
Maryann swatted his arm. “Enough already. We’ll starve before the two of you finish expounding on your staggering talent.”
Archie chuckled and handed Jane a slice of ham, helping her fix it in place on her stick. He held his hand over hers, guiding the piece of meat to just the right spot where it wouldn’t cook too quickly, but would be warm and just a bit crispy when the other ingredients were ready.
She looked up at him, hand in his, firelight flickering in her eyes, and smiled. “Everyone is so happy today. I’m glad you brought us here, Archie.”
“It has been a fine da
y.” His neck cloth was loosed, but still he felt a difficulty breathing. How did this woman have such an effect on him?
“More than a fine day,” She shifted her legs, leaning slightly against him. “One of the best days.”
Archie tipped his head to rest on hers, and at that moment, everything felt right with the world.
For the next hour, the five sat like children before the fire, the quiet broken only with calls of, “My cheese is ready to drip! Who has a bread?” “My ham is done.” “Here’s a bread, does anyone have a cheese?”
Archie watched his friends taking part in an activity he would never have anticipated, and his heart was soft. His worries about Christmas eased, albeit slightly, and he allowed himself to enjoy the moment with people he loved. Not the least of whom was the excellent ham-crisper leaning against his arm, sending a jolt of awareness through him each time she moved.
Finally, the food was gone, and their bellies filled.
Kathleen returned to the couch and took up her knitting. Jonathan slid back to rest his shoulders against a chair as he munched on a sandwich. Maryann sat curled up beside him, her head on his chest.
Archie shifted, resting his hand back on the blanket behind Jane.
Jane stretched and yawned, giving him a smile. “If I remain here, I will fall asleep.” She stood and walked toward the couch.
Archie agreed wholeheartedly. He wouldn’t mind a nap himself, and without permission, his mind conjured the image of an early afternoon nap with Jane’s soft figure curled up beside him. He was still dwelling on this pleasant thought when he heard Jane’s gasp.
She moved to the window, then turned to the group with a smile. “Come look outside. It has stopped snowing!”
Chapter Four
Jane stepped through the cottage door onto the small porch and stopped, enchanted by the sight before her. “Beautiful,” she breathed.
The air smelled clean and crisp. Above, the clouds had separated enough to allow sunshine through, and all around, the earth looked as if it was covered in a thick, white blanket. Forest branches hung heavy with their loads, and the ground was pristine, save for a few trails of animal tracks crisscrossing over the soft snow.
“I don’t believe I’ve seen this much snow since I was a girl,” Kathleen said.
“It feels like we are the only people on the earth,” Maryann replied. “It’s so peaceful.”
Jane pulled her cloak tighter, glad that she wore thick boots and mittens. Though the sun shone through thinning clouds, the air was still chilled. She shivered and hoped once she started moving, her body would warm up.
The group set off through the thick powder, Archie in the lead. He pulled a sled he’d borrowed from Simon. It had a sort of wagon box attached, apparently used for excursions into town or hunting trips. He had also procured gardening shears and a small hand ax to assist with their task of gathering Christmas greenery. Was the wagon large enough to hold a tree?
Jane sank with every step, then pulled her foot from its pit and sank again. Glancing at the group, she saw the others did the same. Walking took an enormous amount of effort. The women’s dresses and cloaks were cumbersome and grew heavy when snow stuck to them. She held her skirts as well as she could, but short of throwing them over her shoulder, they were destined to be a burden. But Jane wouldn’t complain.
She was thrilled with their outing. Searching for greenery and a Yule log as a child was nearly a forgotten memory. She was surprised at the swell of anticipation. She almost felt giddy. But as she glanced ahead at Archie’s broad shoulders beneath his cape and his hair curling over the back of his collar, she thought perhaps a portion of her enjoyment came from the man leading the excursion. If she were to be honest, his presence accounted for more than just a portion.
Archie made her happy—it was simple, really.
When she spoke, he listened. He complimented her and was genuinely interested in what she said. While the others watched her carefully, babied her, and seemed as if they were just waiting for her to succumb to another attack, Archie was her friend. He’d never treated her as if she were mad. And there were moments when . . .
She shook off her silly thoughts and reminded herself that Archie acted the same to everyone—equally happy, equally considerate, and equally kind—which was the reason people sought his presence. Putting too much significance on his particular attentions to her would only lead to heartache later.
That lesson had been painfully obvious the night before when he’d given her the disappointingly brother-like kiss. But try as she might, she could not prevent her thoughts from turning to his expression when he gave her the book. The considerate gift showed he knew her well. He had laughed and complimented her when she read and made her feel so sure of herself. He’d sat close beside her as they toasted cheese, and how could she forget his embrace? It was all so confusing. Her feelings for Archie grew deeper with each passing day, and last night she’d thought there could be more to his. But she was mistaken.
The surrounding snow muted the sounds of their boots scuffing through the powder, and the group walked in silence. Jane wondered if the others felt the enchantment of the fresh snowfall or if they were just quietly struggling to wade through it. They moved along the edge of the forest where the trees were well-spaced. Large, snow-covered boulders dotted here and there along the slope.
Jane wondered why they weren’t walking directly into the forest. It seemed a much smarter course to search for greenery where there were more trees.
Reaching the top of a gentle hill, Jane looked back and saw the cottage by daylight: a humble stone structure set between a frozen pond and the deeper forest. Gazing beyond, she could see the smoke from the Cringlewoods’ home, though she could not see the house itself through the trees.
Archie stopped after a moment, then looked up at a tree, scratching beneath his ear. He turned to the others with brows drawn. “This is the direction Simon pointed us in, but it appears holly trees look exactly like all the other trees when they’re covered in snow.” He turned, taking off his hat and squinting as he looked up through the branches. “I’m not exactly sure how—”
His words halted when a shower of snow dropped on him. He shook himself, brushing piles of powder from his shoulders.
From the corner of her eye, Jane saw Jonathan move again. He hurled a ball of snow into the tree, and another branch released its load down onto Archie.
“Jonathan!” Maryann said, the reprimand she’d obviously intended at odds with the amusement in her voice.
The marquess grinned. “I’m just offering assistance, my dear. Archie needed a way to identify the trees beneath their covering of snow. And I obliged him by solving the prob—”
A mass of snow exploded on Jonathan’s chest, spraying over the entire group.
“Now, see here, sir,” Jonathan called, grinning. He scooped up another mass of snow, and cocked his arm to throw it.
Archie was already prepared and let another shot fly.
The women scampered away from the two men who had, without warning, reverted back to their boyhood. Yells and taunts sounded through the quiet woodland behind them as Archie and Jonathan continued their snow battle.
“Oh, really.” Maryann folded her arms and huffed. “Acting like chil—” She gasped when a clump of snow hit her, then whirled around to find the culprit.
Another hit Jane. The sisters shared a confused glance, looking at the men who were engaged in their own match and couldn’t have hit them from such an angle. They both turned to see Kathleen wearing an enormous grin.
She was forming another handful of snow into a ball.
“Mother Kathleen!” Maryann looked at her, disbelieving. “You—”
Kathleen threw the snowball, barely missing the brim of Maryann’s bonnet.
Jane and Maryann both snatched up snow and began to fight back, shrieking and laughing when a cold projectile hit them, then retaliating at both the older woman and each other.
; Archie and Jonathan must have heard their shouts, because they halted their battle and started toward them. Both men had lost their hats.
Archie’s hair was damp and falling over his forehead in curls. He smiled widely. “I would not have supposed you proper ladies capable of such mischief.”
“Archie, watch out for Mother Kathleen! She’s an excellent shot,” Jane panted.
He raised his brows in a surprised expression and opened his mouth to respond when Kathleen hit him. Snow sprayed on his shoulder, over his face, and into his mouth.
He laughed heartily. “It’s the sweet ones you have to watch out for. They’re the most devious.” Wiping off his cheeks with the back of his sleeve, he grabbed Jane’s hand and pulled her across the field to duck down behind a large mound of snow that was likely a buried boulder.
Jane’s heart was beating from the physical exertion, and she breathed heavily, her breath swirling out in white puffs. “Are we hiding?”
“Hiding? Never.” Archie crouched down and started compressing snow into balls, making a pile. He glanced around the rock and pulled his head back as a snowball flew past. “It looks like the enemies have joined forces. I’ll build up the defenses, and you work on artillery.” He smiled eagerly, his eyebrows bouncing, and he started packing snow up along the side of the rock to make a wall.
Jane knelt and patted the snow into balls, building up the pile he’d begun. His enthusiasm was contagious, and she couldn’t help grinning, even though this activity bordered on the ridiculous.
She glanced up at him, and he met her eye, giving a wink that warmed her insides. She turned back to building snowballs. “Archie, we could hide in the forest.”
He darted a glance at her, then shook his head. “What’s the Artillery Battery Unit’s report?” he said, packing more snow onto the wall.
A Country Christmas (Timeless Regency Collection Book 5) Page 20
