Yuletide Happily Ever Afters; A Merry Little Set Of Regency Romances

by Jenna Jaxon

  Iris surely took issue with Chastain’s cavalier behavior. Although he knew the reason for the man’s devil may care attitude he recognized the viscount wouldn’t care for Ambrose sharing his personal business with others.

  He’d observed his sister with Sir Thomas many times. He knew their relationship would go no further than friendship. However, an unsuitable suitor was the only excuse he could think of to lure Chastain into his matchmaking scheme. He hoped he had enough time left to see not only Iris settled, but Lottie as well.

  The pond wasn’t frozen deep enough for skating. He wasn’t surprised what with the warmer than usual temperatures they’d experienced in December. Rose would not get the outing she desired. They turned their horses and headed back to the house.

  The estate was comprised of five thousand acres. It took them several minutes to ride from the pond to the manor house.

  The house was built in the 1730’s for Ambrose’s great-grandfather, the first marquess of Norfolk. Of the Palladian style the exterior was constructed of fine-grained, silver-white stone with domes at each corner. Marcourt was intended to be an impressive house with a rectangular main block with basement at ground level, a floor of receiving rooms, bedroom floor and attics above. There were also two lower flanking wings joined to the main block by colonnades.

  Ambrose and Peake rode to the south of the house to a detached quadrangular stable block. Their horses turned over to the grooms, they walked through a gravel forecourt on the side of the house to the sound of an approaching coach.

  He was happy to see one of Sir Thomas’s carriages stop in front of the house.

  “Good heavens,” he said with a theatrical sigh. “I believe Sir Thomas has come for a visit.”

  “The young man you believe Iris is in love with?” Peake queried.

  “The very same,” he replied shortly.

  He watched his sisters and Chastain approach along the front drive. The viscount looked no worse for the walk to town in the chilly air.

  Sir Thomas alighted from his coach and handed a young woman out. Ambrose made the introductions. The young woman was the baronet’s sister Emma. The party returning from town saw the gathering in front of the house and made their way over.

  “Hello!” Rose rushed to Emma.

  The girls hugged. After a vague goodbye to everyone, Rose walked to the house arm and arm with the other girl.

  “Sir Thomas!” Iris strode to her friend, passing himself and Peake with a nod of acknowledgment.

  The baronet and Iris clasped hands. Iris pulled him to meet Chastain. Ambrose smiled to himself. He couldn’t have done better if he planned the meeting.

  “Lord David Chastain may I present Sir Thomas Childs. The young lady Rose dragged to the house is his sister Emma.”

  “It is a pleasure,” the baronet said, released Iris’s hand and bowed elegantly to the man before him. Chastain muttered an acknowledgment.

  Ambrose saw surprise register on Chastain’s face. His friend looked startled to be faced with such a charming gentleman as a challenge for Iris’s affections. Peake had a considering look on his face.

  “Shall we go inside?” Ambrose asked dryly. Sir Thomas and Chastain looked content to remain outside sizing each other up.

  Affirmative noises were made. They trouped into the house as a group.

  “Did you discover anything of importance while you were away?” Iris asked the baronet.

  “I found several interesting items during my dig in the north,” Childs replied. “I have a small bag of artifacts to show you.”

  “Wonderful!” Iris came to a halt in the entry hall. “I must freshen myself up and then I will be right down. Will you and Emma stay for dinner?”

  The baronet nodded. “My sister would never let me tear her away from Rose so soon.”

  “Excellent. I’ll have cook add two places.”

  Iris excused herself.

  “I should like to clean the dirt of the road off as well,” Chastain said. He nodded to the other men present. When he left the room, Peake also made his excuses.

  “Go along to the drawing room, Sir Thomas.” Ambrose nodded to the other man. “Excuse me. I have some business to take care of with my steward.”

  “Quite all right, Ambrose.” The baronet smiled. “I think I can manage on my own by now.”

  “Just so,” he replied. He would sequester himself in his study with his steward. He needed to go over some accounts for the estate and relished leaving the household to their own devices. Dinner should be a very diverting affair.

  * * * * *

  Chastain found himself the first to return downstairs. Sir Thomas was in the long drawing room arranging bits of clay and pottery on a cloth he’d placed on a low table.

  “Ah, Lord Chastain I believe?” The baronet halted his work.

  “Yes,” he replied. “What do you have there?”

  “Fragments of a Roman settlement.” The man’s expression became more animated when he looked at the relics before him. The same interest was on the baronet’s face when he looked up and noticed Iris had joined them.

  “Lord Chastain, Sir Thomas.”

  He nodded at her greeting. Iris glided to where the baronet stood. She looked unbelievably lovely in a green sprigged day gown. Most of the day she’d worn a bonnet. He was glad to again see her lovely hair. For a moment he wondered how long her hair was and what she would look like with it down about her lovely white shoulders.

  “Oh, Sir Thomas!” Iris beamed as she looked at the table covered in artifacts. “These are lovely.”

  All he saw were a few bits of brown clay. Whatever the items were, they resulted in a rapturous Iris.

  “Tell me exactly where you found them.” Iris took a seat on a nearby settee. Sir Thomas sat beside her. He took a seat on the sofa across from the pair. He wanted room to study the couple.

  He supposed the baronet couldn’t help but be fascinated with a lovely woman hanging on his every word. Chastain wasn’t sure what Iris felt for the man. There was a connection between the two. It would take more observation to figure out how deep it went.

  To his relief, Peake entered the room and put an end to Sir Thomas’s numbingly boring narrative. Iris offered refreshment; the men declined.

  “Ambrose?” Peake asked the group at large.

  “He had business with his steward,” Sir Thomas replied.

  “Where is my head today? I forgot to inform cook there will be another two places at dinner.” Iris stood up. “Perhaps you gentlemen would like to play cards?”

  “I do believe I passed a billiards room next to Ambrose’s study.” Peake looked at Sir Thomas. “Do you care for a game?”

  “I think billiards sounds quite diverting,” the baronet replied readily enough.

  The man was much too accommodating, Chastain thought to himself grumpily. Sir Thomas looked far too comfortable at Marcourt.

  “Emma and Rose have been a while without supervision. I will check on them once I speak to cook. I’ll put these artifacts away for you, Sir Thomas.”

  The baronet smiled. Chastain noticed the man had perfect teeth. “Thank you, my dear. My bag is beside the table.”

  Iris began putting away the clay pieces. He came to his feet. It seemed the chit was dismissing them.

  “Do you play billiards often?” Peake asked Sir Thomas.

  “Whenever I’m at Marcourt,” the baronet replied. “My sister and I eat dinner here at least once a week when the family is in residence.”

  Chastain looked at Iris one more time before he left the room. She was concentrating on wrapping the relics in cloth and ignored him completely. One thing bothered him. If Ambrose wanted to dissuade an attachment between Iris and Sir Thomas, why did he allow the man in the house so often?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Iris smiled grimly as she carefully wrapped the bits of pottery and put them away in Thomas’s leather satchel. The lovely afternoon spent in Braxton had clouded her mind to the real reason for Lo
rd Chastain’s visit to Marcourt. Thomas’s arrival to the house was most fortuitous. The evening provided many opportunities to irritate both her brother and the viscount.

  The butler informed Iris that Lady Rose and Miss Emma had gone to the pinery in search of Lottie.

  “Here you all are,” she said upon finding the girls in the large glass structure at the end of the west wing. Emma skipped to Iris for a belated hug.

  Rose clapped her hands. “We have two pineapples for this evening’s meal!”

  Iris replied, “I thought there wouldn’t be more until next season. Well done, Lottie! That makes nearly twenty you have managed this year.”

  “Mr. Binns and the other gardeners did most of the work.” Lottie studied the larger of the two pineapples.

  “What will you do with them?” Emma asked, having moved away from Iris to look at the strange fruit.

  “I will give one to cook and ask her to include it in the dessert course this evening. The smaller one I will use to fashion a centerpiece for the breakfast room.”

  Iris cleared her throat. “Lottie, Ambrose is in his study and our guests are in the billiard room. We can have a word before it is time to dress for dinner.”

  “Oh yes, our talk,” Lottie replied. “You girls take this pineapple to cook; unless of course you want to help me make a centerpiece?”

  Rose and Emma shook their heads. Iris was in complete agreement as she had little interest in flower arranging. No need for worry as Lottie was sure to do all the work.

  “We’ll take the fruit,” Rose replied. “I’ll be very careful with it.”

  Once the girls were gone, Iris and Lottie walked into an attached spring room. The room was slightly chilly as the small stove didn’t heat the area as well as the flues used in the pinery. A large table in the center of the room was covered with greenery, floral cuttings and several vases.

  “How was your trip to Braxton?” Lottie asked while she sorted through the containers to find the perfect one for her arrangement. She selected a silver plate with a shallow rim.

  “I believe Chastain enjoyed himself,” she replied honestly. “We went to the post office and along to Rose Petals for tea. Chastain didn’t complain about the long walk or the cool weather.”

  “Hmm…” Lottie placed pieces of moss and fern on the plate. “The boredom of the country hasn’t yet set in. In a few days the novelty will wear off. Or…”

  “Or what?”

  “We will find Chastain enjoys the country as much as we do.” Lottie grinned.

  She digested that idea for a moment before something else came to mind. “We need to remind Ambrose about the assembly.”

  “I’ll ask him about it during dinner,” Lottie replied.

  “I promised Mr. Jennings I’d look in on Anna tomorrow.”

  Lottie paused in her work. “I would like to go with you. We might need a gentleman with us.”

  “To carry a heavily laden basket for the family.” Iris knew just the man for the task.

  “Why would a man like Chastain agree to stay here for seven days?” Lottie asked idly. “Other than Christmas dinner, we don’t have any special entertainments scheduled for Christmastide.”

  Although she really hadn’t given the idea much thought, to her the answer was obvious. “The man is our brother’s friend. Ambrose asked a favor and Chastain would see it as the honorable thing to do.”

  “Honorable?” Lottie asked in reply, her attention on the developing arrangement before her. “I didn’t think you believed the viscount knew the meaning of the word.”

  * * * * *

  Chastain dressed carefully for dinner. Or rather his valet dressed him carefully. The handsome and charming Sir Thomas had beaten him soundly at billiards. He needed a boost to his ego.

  “Another game?” the man asked after thrashing both Chastain and Peake.

  “We are no match for you,” Peake replied gloomily. “Maybe Ambrose can provide some competition.”

  The baronet shook his head. “Sadly, he’s worse than either of you.”

  Chastain smiled automatically while Peake laughed. He mumbled vaguely about having to dress for dinner and left the room with his tail firmly between his legs. He was a competitive man and unused to losing at any endeavor.

  His valet fussed over tying his master’s cravat for so long that Chastain was the last to arrive in the drawing room.

  He was dressed in black, his snowy white neckcloth tied in the latest fashion. His hair was disheveled in the prevailing style. He looked confident even if he didn’t feel it where Iris was concerned.

  “There he is right now,” Ambrose said from his place standing near the fireplace. “I hear Sir Thomas bested you, Chastain. Not to worry, I’ve never beaten him myself.”

  Rose rushed to greet him and lead him to where her friend Emma was seated next to an elderly woman on a long couch. “You haven’t been properly introduced to my aunt or my friend Emma.”

  Aunt Abigail, or more properly Lady Markham, looked him over without speaking. Introductions made, Rose informed him the two young women would be joining the adults for dinner.

  “Iris is allowing it as a special treat.”

  He glanced at Iris. Her attention was solely on a conversation with Lottie, Peake and Sir Thomas. He excused himself, eager to be away from the watchful Lady Markham.

  “Tomorrow will be splendid,” Lottie said. He listened closely to see what the woman was referring to.

  “Do you care to accompany us, Lord Peake?” Iris asked the other man.

  “Sadly, I cannot. I need to write letters of business tomorrow,” Peake replied.

  Chastain privately thought Peake made up an excuse so as not to be included in the outing. He wondered if anyone would describe what event Iris had planned for the morrow when the butler announced dinner. Iris automatically moved forward with her brother to enter the dining room. His own place was at the end of the table far from the chit. He was seated next to Lottie and across from Rose and Emma. To his irritation, Sir Thomas sat next to Iris.

  “Will you join us on our outing tomorrow, Lord Chastain?” Lottie asked between sips of white soup.

  “It sounds a capital idea,” he replied immediately. He had no idea what was planned. His purpose at Marcourt was to spend time with Iris.

  Lottie looked towards Iris who was conversing, yet again, with Sir Thomas. “Thank you. We could use your assistance.”

  The soup was removed, the fish course presented. He noted the familiar way in which Childs picked out the most succulent pieces of fish for Iris. He glanced at his host, to see Ambrose frowning at the couple. Perhaps Iris had rearranged the seating assignments at the table.

  “How will you occupy your day tomorrow, Ambrose?” Lottie asked.

  “I promised Rose to take her and Emma ice-skating. The pond isn’t solid enough. Despite the lack of snow, Rose would like to take one of the sleighs out for a drive.”

  “Did you remember there is an assembly ball tomorrow evening?” Lottie asked.

  “I had forgotten,” Ambrose replied with a sigh. “I assume you ladies would like to attend?”

  “I would,” Iris said from her place down the table. Lottie answered in the affirmative as well.

  “One would think you were tired of dancing after London,” Sir Thomas said in a teasing voice.

  “I didn’t get to dance with you, my dear friend,” she replied.

  “You know I dislike dancing,” the baronet replied.

  “As does Ambrose,” Lottie said gaily. “All the better we attend the assembly.”

  It was decided the adults would go as a party. When the younger girls expressed sadness at being left out, Iris promised Rose her friend Emma could stay at Marcourt for the night. He was surprised by how deftly Iris handled her youngest sister. So well indeed Rose never seemed to know she was being managed.

  “When was the last time you attended a local assembly?” Lottie asked him after the dessert course was served and everyone
exclaimed over the slices of pineapple.

  “I’ve never had the pleasure,” he replied.

  “You will have a grand time. There are so many diversions in Norfolk you may desire never to leave the county.”

  His gaze moved to Iris. He was pleased to see her staring at him. She hurriedly dropped her eyes and concentrated on her plate.

  “Yes,” he replied. “The diversions are many.”

  He changed the subject by asking Lottie about her cultivation of pineapples.

  The gentlemen decided to accompany the ladies to the drawing room after dinner. Rose and Emma took themselves off to the nursery. Childs and Peake carried the conversation as Ambrose appeared to be as averse to conversation at present as he was.

  Tea was served. Nearly an hour later Iris suggested cards.

  “Hear, hear,” Peake replied. “Perhaps I may beat Sir Thomas at a game.”

  “I really must take my leave,” Childs replied regretfully with a smile directed at Iris. “Caring for my sister can be tiring.”

  Iris directed a maid to fetch the girl. Miss Emma looked as if she would protest leaving the house, but her brother handled her as deftly as Iris handled Rose. Good lord, was the man good at everything?

  “Let me see you out,” Iris said and left the room with the baronet and his sister.

  The most recent question he had about Sir Thomas was answered by Ambrose. “Sir Thomas’s parents are currently in India. He often has to care for Emma on his own.”

  “What game should we play?” Lottie asked him, effectively diverting his attention from the doorway to the room. The girl smiled, her eyes wide. He wondered if she read anything into his interest in Iris’s movements. To his consternation, he noticed Lady Markham was watching him again.

  “Loo? Whist?” Peake shook his head. “It matters not for Ambrose will cheat at whatever we play.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Iris noted Chastain preferred coffee for breakfast. The man ate heartily at every meal and never failed to praise the cooking.