Biltmore Christmas

by Diane T. Ashley

  She glanced up at Robert’s tight jaw and wondered what was wrong with him. Had both men lost their minds? Or was she too tired to understand the undercurrent swirling around tonight? Perhaps a good night’s sleep would bring clearer vision.

  “Perhaps we should wait until tomorrow.” Ned leaned over and brushed snow out of his hair. “It looks like we’re in for a real storm.”

  Melissa turned from her discussion with the gardener’s assistant and watched as Ned stomped his feet to rid them of wet flakes. “We cannot go tomorrow. It’s Sunday. We’ll be in church most of the day.” She handed him an empty basket and picked up an identical one for herself. “We have to fill these with evergreen boughs before the storm grows worse.” She wrapped a wool scarf around her neck.

  “Your lips will get chapped if you don’t cover them.” He put down his basket long enough to tug the scratchy material over her nose.

  Of course she blushed. At least he couldn’t see her pink cheeks, but from the look in Ned’s eyes, she had the feeling he knew the effect he was having on her.

  The assistant drew their attention by clearing his throat. He had wooden-handled shears for each of them to use. Melissa thanked him and headed toward the door. “Let’s get started.”

  Ned shut the toolshed door and followed her across the large rectangle of the Italian garden. “It’s like being in a snow globe.”

  Melissa stopped and looked at the sky. Light gray clouds bumped into each other, filling the air with huge flakes. “We’ll need to hurry. The limbs will be frozen soon.”

  Ned caught up with her, and they walked side by side for several minutes. They walked for what seemed like miles, neither speaking. Once she looked back over her shoulder and realized she could no longer see the mansion for the thick curtain of snow. Mist was rolling down from the higher slopes, too, cutting them off from all civilization. Itwas quiet in the forest, peaceful. They seemed to be the only creatures around.

  She pointed to a group of trees with short, blue-gray needles. “Let’s start here.” She set her basket down and began lopping off the branches she could reach.

  Ned moved to a taller tree and did the same.

  She noticed the branches he cut were much thicker than hers. She hoped they would not be too heavy for his basket. “Did you get your vehicle to crank again after I retired last night?”

  He shook his head. “Not yet.” He stopped his work and smiled at her. “Do you think we have enough for now?”

  Melissa looked at their overloaded baskets and nodded. “This should be sufficient to start. I saw some winterberry and holly bushes on our way out here, however. I’d like to stop and gather berries from them to add some color to the arrangements.”

  “What about kissing balls? There seems to be plenty of mistletoe around.” He pointed to a clump of greenery high on the limbs of a nearby oak.

  “We’d need a ladder for that.” Her voice was muffled, so Melissa pushed down her scarf to repeat her statement. “We don’t have a ladder today.”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “No ladder is going to reach that high. I’ll see if I can borrow a rifle and shoot some down for you.”

  “Won’t that destroy the plant?”

  “I’m a decent shot. I think I can manage to gather enough for our needs.”

  She liked the way he included himself in the plans. Although their bargain had been to help each other, she had imagined he would only help with the gathering part and leave the crafting part to her while he went back to the repair of his horseless carriage.

  “Let’s get back to the stables.” He rubbed his gloved hands together. “I could use a nice cup of apple cider or hot chocolate.”

  Melissa picked up her basket, surprised at how heavy it had grown.

  “Here, let me take that.” Ned held out his shears. “You can carry our tools back.”

  She allowed him to pull the basket from her hand. For the first time in her life, Melissa felt … feminine. And she liked it. She liked having his warm, solid presence beside her. On the way back to Biltmore, her feet seemed to skip along the pathway. Perhaps being a girl wasn’t all bad.

  Chapter 8

  Ned removed his hat and coat as he entered the graceful church.

  Brother Martin greeted him warmly, as did several of the local villagers, making him feel like he was already a part of the community. It was amazing how warm and open these people were. Their kindness reinforced his desire to make North Carolina his permanent home. If only he could convince Mr. Vanderbilt to share his vision.

  He took a seat toward the back of the church, where he could see each new arrival. Where was Melissa? A group of female servants from Biltmore came in, whispering and giggling as they made their way to a pew up front. His gaze searched in vain for a glimpse of her auburn hair and sparkling green eyes, but she was not part of their group. The next arrivals were the senior members of the staff. Although most of them were strangers to him, Ned did recognize the butler who had announced him to Mr. Vanderbilt a few weeks earlier.

  Heads turned and the general murmur of voices came to a halt as Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt arrived. He carried a bundle—their infant daughter Cornelia—while Mrs. Vanderbilt floated down the aisle at his right elbow. They were followed by several of their guests, who smiled and noddedas the Vanderbilts slowly made their way to the front pew, stopping every few feet to speak to one or another of the churchgoers.

  Ned was so engrossed in watching them, he almost missed Melissa’s arrival. The scent of lilacs as her skirt brushed past his pew alerted him to her presence. The scent suited her so well—sweet and fresh, a reminder of the coming of spring. He stood with the intention of inviting her to sit next to him, but when he did, his gaze clashed with the blue gaze of Robert, her escort. Robert shook his head slightly, warning him away. Ned felt his heart hammering in his chest. When had the stable hand become so possessive of Melissa? And why?

  Ned had thought Robert and Melissa were friends. Were the other man’s feelings warmer than friendship? Or was he simply trying to protect the girl from someone he did not trust? Ned had thought he and Robert were friends, but perhaps he had misread the other man’s motives. He sat back down and pondered the questions in his mind until the pastor began his sermon.

  He tried to concentrate on Brother Martin’s message but found his gaze straying again and again to Melissa’s auburn hair leaning toward Robert’s blond curls. Then something Brother Martin said did snag Ned’s attention. Something about the trust of a man in the woman he loved. Never before had Joseph’s story of faith touched him. How had the man managed to put aside his own doubts to accept Mary’s story of Immaculate Conception?

  The jealousy Ned felt seemed petty and mean in comparison.

  Do you love Melissa?

  The question made his breath catch. It seemed to come from outside him, but his heart answered with a resounding affirmative: yes, yes, yes. The words repeated in his mind with every thud. They filled him with hope, excitement, anticipation.

  When the congregation stood to sing a hymn, he joined in with a booming voice. Hallelujah! He was in love. He could hardly wait to get Melissa alone and tell her about his feelings. He didn’t care if she had walked in with Robert. He was going to invite her to lunch with him.

  He would take her to the picturesque café he had seen when he first arrived in Biltmore Village. The building sat on the banks of the Swannanoa River. It would be the perfect setting to hint to Melissa of the romance in his heart.

  As soon as the pastor released them, he made his way to the front door. He would catch Melissa there and pull her away from Robert. She had to agree to go with him. He couldn’t wait another minute to tell her how he felt. Robert would be fine. They were friends, that’s all. If he loved Melissa, he would have told her before now.

  They came out of the church together. Robert had tucked her hand in the crook of his arm, and he was leaning over her, whispering something into her ear.

  Ned refused to
let jealousy consume him again. Instead, he stepped forward and bowed to both of them. “Brother Martin really knows how to bring the scriptures alive, doesn’t he?”

  “Yes.” Melissa smiled at him.

  Robert sketched a bow, but remained silent.

  What was he supposed to say next? His mind seemed to freeze. Freeze. “Do you think the snow will last until Christmas?”

  Robert looked at the bright sunlight. “I doubt it.” He tugged on Melissa’s hand. “We need to leave.”

  “Are you walking back to Biltmore?”

  “No.” Melissa frowned toward Robert and stood her ground. “The lady who runs the orphanage, Miss Elsie, was not at church this morning. We heard she has fallen ill, so we wanted to go check on her.”

  Robert tugged on her arm again. “She’s the only mother either of us has ever had.”

  “Please let me know how she’s doing,” Ned spoke to their retreating figures.

  Melissa looked back at him over her shoulder and waved her hand in farewell. But that was little comfort. Not when he’d been imagining a romantic meal with her. He could not fault her for wanting to check on the lady at the orphanage. It spoke of her warm heart and generous spirit—two of the reasons he’d fallen in love with her in the first place. But now that he’d realized his feelings, he was anxious to secure her affections. And to make sure she felt the same way about him.

  He nodded at the nurse who had cared for him after the accident and tipped his hat to Mr. and Mrs. Vanderbilt as they climbed into the carriage that would take them back to their home. Then he began the solitary walk back to the Biltmore stables.

  He passed by the little café without a second glance, allthought of food banished as he considered what he would do if Melissa did not return his affection.

  “How did it go?” Melissa put down the kissing ball she had been working on when Ned walked into the stable.

  “Mr. Vanderbilt gave me until the end of this week.” Ned walked to where she sat and dropped to one knee. He took her hands in his and chafed them. “As long as we can get the part to repair the fuel line by then, everything will work out fine.”

  “But I thought you said the man in Asheville wasn’t sure—” Her words were cut off when Ned placed a finger on her lips. His touch made her tingle and forget all about what they had been discussing. She knew she ought to move away, but she could not find the will.

  “Everything is going to be okay, Melissa. God would not have led me here if He didn’t have a plan for me.” He brushed his finger over the hot color in her cheeks. “Don’t worry.”

  He stood and looked at the table covered with all sorts of greenery, as well as berries, vines, and cones. “Why don’t you show me what we’re doing this afternoon.”

  Melissa was glad no one else was in the stable. Especially not Robert. Yesterday, as they walked to the orphanage to check on Mama Elsie, he had warned her about listening to Ned’s glib words. He thought Ned was toying with her emotions while he waited for Mr. Vanderbilt’s approval. Robert had lectured her the whole time they were together, reminding her Ned was a stranger who might leave Biltmore at anytime.

  She shook her head to rid it of Robert’s warnings and turned to the table. “We’ll be using these potatoes to form the hearts of our kissing balls.” She picked up the one she’d been working on and showed him how to poke holes to hold the mistletoe he’d brought to her as promised. “Secure the mistletoe with one of the vines. Then you add color and texture with the berries and cones. When the potato is completely hidden, you take a ribbon and go around the ball like this.” She twined the ribbon around her creation and secured it at the bottom with a hat pin. “Be careful to leave enough ribbon so we can hang it later.”

  The only sound in the stable came from the horses as she and Ned concentrated on their task. She finished two more as he struggled to wind a vine around his potato. “Let me see how you’re doing.”

  Ned held up his potato. It looked more like a demented porcupine than a kissing ball. A giggle escaped her, and his brows lowered. “It’s awful, isn’t it?”

  Melissa assumed a serious expression. “You should have seen my first one.” She took his ball from him and began to work with the greenery. “It takes a little practice.” She added a clump of mistletoe to round out the arrangement before handing it back to him. “See? Now get some ribbon and one of the hat pins.”

  His next effort was much better, and she made sure to compliment his artistry.

  He held the ball up and stared at it for a moment. Then he looked at her oddly before returning his gaze to the kissing ball.

  “Is something wrong?”

  “I’ve always wondered if these work.” His lazy smile made her heart skip a beat.

  Melissa didn’t know what to say. Was Ned flirting with her? Impossible. She concentrated on the potato in her hand. “We have a lot of work to do.”

  She held her breath, but he didn’t say anything else before placing his kissing ball into the basket. After a little while, she decided the incident must have been a misunderstanding. No man could be interested in a girl without any feminine talents.

  When all the potatoes had been festooned with mistletoe, berries, and colorful ribbons, she took a moment to admire their handiwork. Melissa could hardly wait to go to the house and begin hanging them in the doorways and halls.

  “Where should we start?” Ned grabbed a hammer, nails, and a ladder at Melissa’s direction.

  Melissa pointed the way to the music room. “I never dreamed this job would be so easy or so much fun.”

  “I hope part of your pleasure comes from working with me.” Ned set up the ladder in the arched doorway and picked up one of the kissing balls.

  How she wished he really found her attractive, but Melissa knew better than to harbor such hopes. Only last night she had read again the scriptures in Proverbs that described a “virtuous woman.” Although she did work hard, she made too many mistakes to be a successful housewife. She couldn’t cook or clean or even do the laundry without creating a mess.

  No, Robert must be right. Ned was only spending time with her because he needed her help. He would never tie himself to someone like her. And who could blame him? Any other female would be a better choice.

  Chapter 9

  Ned let out a howl as he scraped his knuckles on a brass fitting. This most important day was not beginning well. Would he be able to convince Vanderbilt to help him build a manufactory?

  “What’s wrong?” Melissa’s concerned voice came from above his horseless carriage.

  He slid out from under the vehicle, shaking his hand to relieve the pain, and pushed himself to his feet. “I’m ashamed to show you how minor my wound is.” He put aside his concerns and held out his hand.

  She came around the front side of the vehicle and took his hand in hers. “There should be some liniment around here.”

  Ned allowed her to fuss over him for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of being coddled. He watched as she spread a thin paste over his knuckles and wound a soft, clean cloth around his finger. “Thank you.”

  Melissa looked up at him and blushed. “You’re welcome.”

  Quiet pervaded the stable this morning, as if they were the only two people around. She was so close he wanted to sweep her into his arms and kiss her. But after he had recovered from his euphoria last Sunday afternoon, Ned had realized he should wait until he secured a future for the two ofthem before asking her to marry him. He stepped back and turned toward his motorcar. “Let’s see if we can crank it.”

  She clambered into the seat while he went around to the front and pulled on the crank. It only took two revolutions before the engine turned over, coughed, and roared into life. Ned cheered and Melissa squealed her excitement.

  He walked to where she sat and draped an arm behind her back. “Do you want to drive?”

  Her eyes widened. “May I?”

  Ned grinned and nodded. “Put on your scarf and coat, though. The wind i
s going to be quite cold.” He maneuvered the carriage so it faced the stable doors while she grabbed her coat from a nearby hook and wrapped her scarf around her neck and lower face. She also picked up his coat and handed it to him while she waited for him to scoot past the steering lever.

  He cupped his hands around his mouth to be heard over the noisy engine. “Do you understand how to work the clutch and the fuel pedal?”

  The look she tossed at him was full of disdain. He should have known better than to ask her. Melissa probably understood better than he did. When he’d first purchased the carriage, he had spent nearly an hour learning how to manage both pedals and the steering lever at the same time. She was sure to master the skills with much less effort. He moved to the right side of the seat.

  Melissa climbed up and pulled on her gloves before grabbing hold of the steering lever that curved up from the floor of the vehicle. She released the clutch, and they began rolling forward.

  Ned knew he should be watching out for possible hazards, but he could not tear his gaze away from her eager face. Even bundled up as she was, he could almost feel her exhilaration. It brought back his own thrill when he’d first mastered the powerful vehicle. Driving a motorcar was nothing like guiding a horse-drawn carriage.

  They followed a horse path toward the back of the estate grounds, gaining speed. Soon they were rushing along at more than five miles per hour, so he turned his attention to their progress through the rolling landscape. The recent snow had melted and caused muddy ruts, making Ned glad he had purchased the optional fenders for his vehicle. Otherwise, both of them would be covered with mud.

  “This is the most wonderful experience of my life.” Melissa’s voice brought him back to her.

  He put his hand over hers as it rested on the steering lever and squeezed gently before letting go. “I’m honored to be part of it.”

  “You’re the most important part. If not for you, I wouldn’t be driving at all.”