A Yuletide Regency (A Timeless Romance Anthology Book 21)

by Regina Scott

  Chapter Two

  Any hope of a tête-à-tête Mary might have had was doomed the moment she and Julian moved into the great hall. She simply had too many guests congregated in the space. Like the entry hall, the walls here were covered in squares of dark wood paneling. But the massive white stone fireplace, the lintel carved with scenes of harvest, brightened the long, low-ceilinged room, as did the brass sconces affixed to the walls. The crimson carpet in the center of the polished wood floor matched the chief color of the tapestry over the hearth. With everything draped in holly and ivy, she could not have asked for a more festive setting.

  Now her guests stood or sat in groups, members flitting back and forth, conversation ebbing and flowing like waves. Her mother had positioned herself just inside the door, her gaze darting to Mary and a frown marking her brow. Did she suspect her daughter was ready to ignore everyone for one special man?

  “May I have your attention?” For all his regal and calm bearing, Cowls could certainly make his presence known when needed. Around Mary, voices quieted, people stilled. He stepped back, and her mother stood. Mary hoped she was the only one who noticed the tremor in that gentle voice.

  “Thank you all again for joining us in our Christmas tradition,” she said, gazing around at the assembled group. “I know we generally celebrate outdoors, but some of us have made the acquaintance of a warm spot by the fire on a cold day and found it pleasing.”

  Several of the older guests chuckled.

  “Never fear,” she continued. “My Mary and our staff will be hosting the outdoor activities while I hold court here in the great hall. We have ice skates for the pond and warm robes for the sleigh ride, and I believe some gentlemen are particularly eager for the snowball fight.”

  “Not just the gentlemen,” their neighbor Mrs. Garvey called while her husband rubbed his hands together in anticipation. The pair regularly trounced their neighbors at the annual event.

  “Remember there will be hot cider, roasted chestnuts, frosted sugar biscuits, gingerbread, and other treats here in the great hall,” her mother finished, “along with a roaring fire and good company to warm you when you tire of chasing winter. Mrs. Pomfrey and her sisters have agreed to regale us with songs of the season later. Please enjoy.”

  Everyone began moving then. Some closed in on her mother to settle themselves for a long talk. Others hurried for the entry hall, where the footman and Mr. Cowls were helping people back into their coats and hats. She would never manage a moment alone, much less a kiss, with Julian. But she didn’t have to abandon him entirely.

  “What do you prefer?” she asked him.

  His look would ward off any chill. “To be at your side.”

  Mary nodded. “Outdoors, then.”

  She went to don her winter cloak, a voluminous scarlet wool with a black velvet hood and trim. She turned to allow the footman to slip it over her shoulders, and a breath brushed her ear.

  “Allow me,” Julian said.

  A shiver went through her as he draped the cloak about her shoulders. Despite the crowds around them, she glanced up once more at the kissing bough. But Julian had turned to help another lady.

  And Mary had a duty.

  The snow had stopped falling, she saw as she ventured outside. Like muslin, white sheets draped tree and field. Their gardener had swept the snow off the pond, and the ice glittered darkly under the heavy sky. She pointed one group toward the sleigh that stood waiting, the horses’ breath fogging the air, and another group toward the lawn, where two industrious youths were already fashioning snowballs. Though he remained at her side, Julian kept glancing toward the pond. Skating, then. Gliding along, arm in arm, their steps matching as they used to do when they were younger. How romantic. Another shiver went through her.

  “Cold?” Julian asked, taking a step closer.

  Not with him so near. Those eyes were all encouragement, his mouth turned up and head cocked as if he were ready to listen to anything she cared to impart. He was going to be an excellent solicitor. Already she wanted to confess her hopes.

  “It will pass,” Mary assured him. “Would you care to skate?”

  “Delighted.” He offered her his arm, and they walked over to the wrought-iron bench overlooking the pond. Already another couple swept past on the ice. Grooms stood by to strap the steel blades onto footwear. In moments, Mary was out on the glassy surface with Julian at her side. The cool air nipped her cheeks as they set off.

  Oh, to always feel this free. It took the merest pressure to sail along. The evergreens alongside the pond flashed by, dusky against the silver of the pond and sky. Julian matched her stride, though he kept his hands behind his back, as if for balance.

  “Was it last year you raced me to the end of the pond?” he asked, a twinkle in his eyes.

  “And won,” Mary reminded him.

  “You’ve changed since then,” he said.

  Perhaps not as much as she’d thought, for the urge was impossible to resist. “I could still beat you.”

  “You’re on.” He glided to the closest end of the pond and turned.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he called, warm baritone cutting through the cold air. Everyone else in the area turned to listen. “I have challenged the current skating champion of this fair acre to a race, and she has graciously agreed. Kindly clear the way.”

  Other skaters pushed for either side of the pond, leaving the center empty. The artificial waterway ran along most of the front of the white stone house and into the garden, perhaps fifty yards. She’d raced the distance dozens of times over the years. This time, the thrill was sharper, deeper.

  She glanced at Julian, who grinned back.

  “I would be delighted to start you,” Lady Eva said from the edge of the pond.

  “You are too kind,” Julian acknowledged.

  She raised one arm. “On my mark—three, two, one, go!” She dropped her arm, and Mary pushed off as Julian flashed past her, greatcoat billowing.

  She pushed harder, digging into the ice. She had to catch him, prove to him she was his equal. Head down, legs pumping, she matched him, passed him. His laughter chased her down the pond to the scratch of metal on ice. People called her name and his, encouraging. She reached the farthest bank and whirled just short of the rhododendrons clustered there. Julian skidded to a stop beside her.

  “Still the reigning champion,” he declared, taking her gloved hand and holding it high. Cheers and applause echoed around her.

  She drew in a breath and closed her eyes as Julian lowered his head toward hers.

  One kiss. One kiss, and he’ll know.

  “I suppose I should congratulate you as well.”

  Mary’s eyes snapped open in time to see Julian straightening to regard her cousin, standing next to the rhododendrons, the green framing his round face. Nigel’s eyes were narrowed, his mouth a thin line. Oh, why now!

  “I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Nigel said. “Introduce us, Cousin.”

  Propriety rather than his demand suggested she comply. “Mr. Julian Mayes, may I present my cousin, Mr. Nigel Rose.”

  Julian inclined his head. “Mr. Rose.”

  Her cousin barely nodded. “Sir. Why are you monopolizing my cousin?”

  Mary drew herself up. “Mr. Mayes is hardly monopolizing me. We were enjoying the ice together.”

  Julian drew closer as if to protect her. “I’m sure your cousin spoke only from concern. You have no need to worry, sir. Miss Rose and I are old friends.”

  With the possibility of becoming so much more if Nigel would just leave be.

  “Mr. Mayes.” Lady Eva waved at them. “You are so good on the ice. Would you assist me?”

  He glanced at her and back at Mary, and she could feel his indecision. He wanted to stay with her, but a gentleman did not refuse a lady help, especially when he must know she was affianced to his closest friend.

  “I’ll rejoin you shortly,” Mary promised.

  With a last look at Ni
gel, Julian skated over to help Lady Eva.

  Her cousin frowned after him. “Interesting fellow. A solicitor, I understand. Why would you need one?”

  So she had him worried. If only the physician would react the same way. “As Julian said, we are longtime friends.”

  Both his chins jiggled as he turned to look at her. “Julian, is it? I must have a word with your mother. You are far too young to be calling gentlemen by their first names.”

  Before she could stop him, he strode toward the house. She couldn’t very well follow without removing her skates and leaving Julian behind. Well, let Nigel tell tales. The important thing was to bring Julian up to scratch. She had to remember that.

  She turned and spotted him at the other end of the pond now, helping an older lady gain her balance. Lady Eva glided in beside her, as confident on the ice as she was on land.

  “So that’s the gentleman you spoke of at school,” she said with a nod in Julian’s direction.

  Mary sighed. “I used to dream of him proposing, but not today, it seems.”

  Lady Eva made a moue. “You can’t expect him to go down on bended knee under these conditions. You need a more congenial setting.”

  “I agree. I designed the kissing bough in the entry for his benefit.”

  “Bold.” Her friend looked suitably impressed. “You need only encourage him to return to the house with you. The entry hall should be empty. Perhaps you should grow faint from the cold.”

  “I’ve never fainted in my life,” Mary informed her. “Besides, he’d think me weak.”

  Lady Eva shook her head, pale curls bright inside her ermine-lined hood. “Catching the attention of the right suitor requires subterfuge, cunning.”

  Mary stared at her. “Is that how you became engaged to Lord Thalston?”

  “That and other approaches,” Lady Eva said. “Make no mistake—one does not become betrothed to a duke’s heir without careful planning.” She glanced at Julian again. He was applauding a lad’s first attempt on the ice, to the youth’s red-cheeked delight. “Though perhaps a solicitor needn’t be so exacting in his expectations for a wife.”

  She felt as if she’d slipped through the ice on the pond. “You sound like my cousin.”

  “Well, you needn’t be unkind,” Lady Eva said, turning to her again. “I was only trying to help. Here, watch me.” She threw back her head and gave a husky laugh, as if Mary had said something tremendously witty. Everyone in the area, including Julian, glanced their way.

  “Mr. Mayes,” Lady Eva called. “When next do you expect to see my intended, Lord Thalston?”

  Julian excused himself and came to join them. Their race had brought the color out in his cheeks, and his brown eyes showed to advantage over his charcoal-colored greatcoat. Mary raised her head and fluttered her lashes.

  He was focused on her friend. “On Boxing Day,” he said. “Thalston and I hope to ride before I return to London, if the roads are clear enough. But please allow me to offer you my congratulations. He has spoken of you in the most glowing terms.”

  “Indeed,” she said. “I am the most fortunate of brides. I wish all my friends to be as happy.” She smiled at Mary.

  Mary smiled at Julian.

  He examined the middle button on his greatcoat.

  “You look cold, Mary,” Lady Eva said. “You should go inside and warm up. Mr. Mayes, I know I can count on you to see she reaches the house safely.”

  She made it sound as if the fifty or so feet were a great distance filled with gaping chasms. But Julian offered Mary his arm, and they skated to the edge of the pond, where he took off his skates and helped her with hers.

  Large hands, capable hands. Hands that held her future.

  He glanced up at her. “Something wrong?”

  “No,” Mary assured him. “Shall we?”

  As Lady Eva had suggested, the entry hall was empty as they came through the door. Heart pounding in her ears, Mary drew him to the exact spot with the kissing bough overhead, then tipped up her chin. “Julian?”

  “Miss Mary?”

  Mary held back her puff of vexation as she turned to the footman who was approaching. Some of what she was feeling must have shown on her face, however, for he drew up short.

  “Your mother wished a word,” he said before swallowing.

  Would she never have her moment? “Excuse me,” she said to Julian before heading into the great hall and her mother’s side.

  * * *

  Julian shook his head. What was it about Mary today? He had the feeling he ought to follow her.

  To the ends of the earth.

  The door opened, and Lady Evangeline swept in. They had met once, at his friend Thalston’s instigation. After all, as the daughter of a duke, Lady Evangeline had no need to make the acquaintance of a lowly solicitor, unless he happened to be friends with her betrothed. Then as now, she was ethereally beautiful, but she appeared as cold as the weather outside. The current duke and his wife had chosen her to marry his friend, so Thalston didn’t have much choice. Though at times he envied Thalston his position and wealth, at least Julian could marry whom he liked.

  “Has Mary left you alone?” she asked, moving closer.

  “Temporarily, I’m sure,” he answered. “Her mother had need of her.”

  “I’m certain she’s eager to return to your side. She is very clever, our Mary. She’d never leave a gentleman like you alone for long.”

  She almost made Mary sound like a fortune hunter. The only problem was, he had no fortune.

  Just then Mary came out of the great hall, and Lady Evangeline waved her closer. “What a dutiful daughter you are,” she said as Mary joined them. “I was sorry to see your mother so unwell. Will this illness pass soon?”

  Mary glanced back toward the great hall. “Not soon enough, I fear. Already she’s tiring.”

  “Ah. Pity. Perhaps Mr. Mayes can advise you.” Her gaze brushed him as she turned toward the doorway herself. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll cheer her. It is only my duty as the future duchess.” She moved off.

  “Will she speak to any of us once she’s wed?” Julian mused with a shake of his head.

  “I imagine she’ll be too busy for visiting,” Mary answered, watching her friend. “Her new position will have many responsibilities, and she is trained to perform them well. Lord Thalston must be delighted to be marrying such a paragon.”

  Scared out of his wits, more like, but Julian couldn’t tell her that and betray a confidence. “Their families account it an excellent match.”

  She turned to glance up at him through raven lashes. “And what of you, sir? What do you look for in a wife?”

  Julian laughed. “I don’t look for a wife at all.”

  She put her hand on his arm as she stepped closer. “What? A handsome fellow like you? Surely the ladies must be sobbing into their tea in London.”

  With those lavender eyes gazing up at him so adoringly, he found it hard to remember there were any other ladies on the planet, much less London. “You’ve grown up.”

  She fluttered her lashes. “You noticed.”

  Was this show purely for his benefit? Why did he feel like preening?

  “You’ll have your pick of suitors when you go up to London this Season,” he predicted.

  “And if I’ve already made my pick?”

  Just as he had on the pond, he found himself leaning closer. “He is a very fortunate fellow.”

  Those rose-colored lips inched higher. “Ah, if only he would speak, convince me of his devotion.”

  Dangerous territory. She might not have a father or brother to demand to know his intentions, but she was a lady through and through. He had no right to dally and no consequence to offer more.

  “Perhaps he has reason to remain silent,” he said.

  “What could I say, what could I do, to convince him otherwise?”

  The door blew open, and Chester Godwin tumbled into the entry hall. Shaking melting snow off his greatcoat, he s
tarted forward.

  “Ah, Miss Rose, Mayes, you are an island in a sea of tedium.” He glanced at each of them as if awaiting praise for his turn of phrase.

  “If only I could find you a boat,” Mary said with an unconvincing smile.

  Godwin missed the sarcasm. “I have another conveyance in mind. Miss Rose, might I convince you to ride with me in the sleigh?”

  Mary linked her arm with Julian’s as if to anchor herself to his side. “And abandon Mr. Mayes? I would never be so cruel.”

  Godwin made a sad face. “Thoroughly bored, are you, Mayes? Can’t blame you. It’s not like these country affairs can hold much interest for men of the world like us.”

  Julian was ashamed to admit a similar thought had crossed his mind that morning. Had he truly become so jaded?

  “There is something endearingly sweet about the quiet of Surrey,” he said with a look to Mary.

  Her nod was approving. But over her shoulder he spotted her butler approaching. Julian detached himself as the grey-haired fellow bent to murmur something in Mary’s ear. She excused herself to follow him into the great hall. Godwin moved to take her place next to Julian.

  “Sweet little thing, ain’t she?” he drawled.

  Julian kept his look respectful. “I have only admiration for Mrs. Rose and her daughter.”

  “Oh, to be sure,” Godwin said, hitching his greatcoat closer. “I am considering offering for her.”

  Every muscle in his body tightened, and he had to stop himself from grabbing the fellow by his pretentiously tied cravat and giving him a shake. What was wrong with him? Godwin was well heeled, with an estate nearby, so Mary would be supported in surroundings she knew and loved if she married him. With her will and intelligence, she might even be able to guide Godwin into less boorish behavior.

  Yet the idea of this creature marrying his Mary raised bile in the back of his throat.

  “Only considering?” he asked, careful to use a nonconfrontational tone.

  Godwin shrugged. The movement must have caused his shoulder pads to slip, for he began to grow a hump on his back. “She is lovely, of course. Her mother is well known in the area.” He lowered his voice and ducked his head. “But she hasn’t a feather to fly with. When her mother dies, which sadly appears to be soon, she won’t even have a home. Her cousin inherits everything.”