Chapter 8
Eight
Colin
“IT FITS,” Jason said when the men had finished wrestling the Yule Log into the drawing room’s huge fireplace.
“I told you it would.” Ford wiped his hands on his breeches. “When will you all learn to trust my ability to judge area? Perhaps by the next century?”
Colin rolled his eyes. “Yes, it fits—but barely.”
“If it fit with room to spare, it wouldn’t last through the holiday.” Ford looked to Trick. “Did you bring the brand?”
They always lit the log with a brand saved from the previous year’s log—it was one of their many traditions. Since Trick and Kendra had hosted last Christmas, it was up to them to bring the brand they’d set aside.
Trick shrugged. “I got home in the middle of the night. I assume Kendra took care of that. I’ll go ask her.”
“I’m ravenous,” Ford said, “and Hilda is putting dinner on the table. Don’t be long.”
They all set off, Ford and Jason going upstairs to fetch their wives and children while Trick and Colin headed outdoors and crossed the courtyard to the cottage.
“Yours will be the chamber at end of the corridor,” Colin said, leading Trick up the staircase. “I assume Jason and Cait’s things will have been swapped for yours by now.”
After watching his brother-in-law walk off, Colin entered the closer chamber, wondering whether to be apprehensive or pleased when he found Amy there.
“Hey,” he said softly, then added, “I’m sorry,” even though he wasn’t sure what he was sorry for.
He only knew he wanted her to be happy.
He wanted them to be happy together.
“I’m sorry, too.” Rising from where she was seated at a small parquet table with two red-velvet chairs, Amy came close. “I know I said I’d be agreeable for Christmas, and I meant that. Please forgive me.”
He moved closer and gathered her into his arms. Though he wished things were really right between them, temporarily right was better than not right at all. He gave her a gentle kiss, then smiled when she wrapped her arms around his neck and laid her head upon his chest.
This room had cream walls, red bedhangings, and only one window, but it was otherwise quite similar to the one next door. “Thin walls in this place,” he observed, hearing the murmur of conversation from the larger chamber.
“We cannot tell what they’re saying,” Amy pointed out. “Their voices are muffled.”
“Thank heaven for small favors. As I said, I don’t want to hear about my sister’s love life.”
The adjacent room went suddenly silent. Half a minute later, when they heard a muted moan from Kendra, Amy giggled. “I think I know what they’re doing.”
“Bloody hell. I don’t want to hear that, either.”
“At this point, I suspect your dear sister doesn’t care,” Amy returned with a laugh that lifted his heart.
He didn’t want to be at odds with her.
But he really didn’t want to hear his sister make love with her husband.
Dropping a kiss on Amy’s forehead, he left the room and went down the corridor to knock on Kendra’s door.
“Time for dinner!” he called more loudly than necessary.
The moan he heard next had an entirely different tone. Kendra stomped over and opened the door. “A pox on you. I’m not hungry.”
“Well, I am.” He noted with some relief that she hadn’t yet removed any clothing. “And everyone’s waiting.”
“A pox on everyone, then,” she said. “When will this family learn patience?”
Colin looked past her to Trick and was relieved to see him fully dressed as well. “How about you?” he asked. “Are you hungry?”
“He’s a man,” Amy called out from down the corridor, and they all laughed.
Well, all of them except Kendra.
As the two couples trooped down the stairs and outside—Amy calling “Dinnertime, Jewel!” as they passed her chamber—Kendra maneuvered herself beside Colin so she could elbow him in the ribs.
“Oof!” he said good-naturedly. He was entirely too busy planning a prank to pay her any mind.
It had come to him in a single bolt of inspiration, conceived upon hearing the words “When will this family learn patience?” spoken so very impatiently. The mere concept had lifted his spirits immensely.
Given the way things were going, he sorely needed some fun, and this stunt was going to be more than fun.
It was going to be hilarious.
DINNER featured salmon pie, capon in orange sauce, stewed cucumbers, turnip pudding, and apple tart. Colin cleaned his plate without tasting much of anything. He was completely focused on plotting his prank.
It was going to be more than hilarious.
He couldn’t wait to get started.
After the meal, when the family lit the Yule Log, it seemed to take much longer than ever before in his memory.
Just getting twenty-one people out of the dining room and gathered by the fireplace proved to be an exercise in patience.
Kendra couldn’t locate the brand, necessitating a search.
By the time it appeared, three of the youngsters had wandered off and needed to be fetched.
Then the log, which was damp, took an absurd amount of time to set ablaze.
And when did their little family ceremony become so lengthy and elaborate?
Colin wanted to punch a wall.
Once the Yule Log was lit, it took another eternity to organize everyone to play hot-cockles, a simple game where a blindfolded family member tried to guess who tapped him on the back.
To avoid arousing suspicion, Colin cheerfully participated through five rounds, considering himself a veritable model of self-restraint.
Finally, his turn arrived. As Ford’s son Nicky tied the blindfold over his eyes, Colin mentally crossed his fingers, hoping this would be his chance. Before too long, someone tapped him on the back. Her rose scent was the giveaway that allowed him to identify her immediately.
“Amy!” he crowed, grabbing her and pulling her down to his lap.
She giggled.
Pleased that she’d chosen him, he whipped off his mask. “I’ll be back,” he whispered, feeling a combination of glee and relief as he got to his feet and set her aside. “I have a special surprise for you.”
Her grin made his heart swell. Never mind that he didn’t have a surprise already planned. He’d needed an excuse to get away, and he’d find a surprise before he returned.
Leaving the circle, he plucked his cloak off a peg on the wall.
“Where are you going?” Jason asked.
“To the cottage, because my wife deserves an early Christmas gift.” He headed toward the side door. “I won’t be long.”
Free at last, he hurried across the courtyard to the cottage and upstairs to Kendra’s chamber, hoping her maid would be inside.
Well, actually, hoping her maid would be at Lakefield at all. With four families in residence at once, Violet had requested they all bring minimum staff only, as there simply wasn’t room for three full sets of extra servants. He and Amy had brought his valet, Benchley, but not her lady’s maid.
When he opened the door, he was pleased to see Kendra’s maid inside as he’d hoped.
Small and slight, she wore a simple brown dress over a long-sleeved linen shift.
In the midst of reading a book, she gasped and jumped up from where she was seated at the dressing table.
“My apologies, my lord. I think your chamber is next door?”
“Indeed, it is. But it is you I wish to see, Miss…?”
“Margaret.” Still holding her book, she tucked a stray lock of russet hair back under her cap. “What can I do for you, Lord Greystone?”
He wondered how she knew who he was, but supposed Kendra had told her. Or perhaps knowing such things was simply a part of her job.
“I’m hoping you’ll be willing to help me play a prank on my sister.”
Her blue eyes widened. “I cannot play a prank on my mistress! I mean…my apologies, my lord, but I cannot do that.”
“Are you certain?” Gauging her interest, he walked a little closer. “I would never harm my sister—what I have in mind is just for fun. Would five pounds make the prospect more palatable?”
“No! Absolutely not! I owe everything to her grace. And his grace.” She swallowed hard, evidently tempted by five pounds but determined to resist. “I grew up at Caldwell Manor.”
“Did you, now?” Caldwell Manor was Trick’s orphanage. “I trust you were treated well there?”
“Extremely well. I was five when they took me in.” Her chin went up. “It was the luckiest day of my life.”
That was doubtlessly true. The children at Caldwell Manor were well fed and uncommonly well educated. Not every lady’s maid spent her spare hours reading books—indeed, most maids couldn’t read at all. Colin was unsurprised to find that Margaret was loyal to Kendra.
However, loyalty went only so far. “Ten pounds?”
“Ten pounds? Lud…” She set her book on the dressing table as she plopped to sit on the stool there. “I…I couldn’t.”
He could see her weakening. “Twenty pounds, then.” It was a pittance to him, but four years’ wages for a servant. “And that’s my final offer.”
At first she shook her head slowly. But when a tiny, rueful smile emerged along with an even tinier shrug, he knew he had won.
HALF AN hour later, Colin returned to where the family was still playing games.
“What took you so long?” Jason asked.
“I went to my chamber to fetch this”—Colin held up a thick book—“and saw a mouse.”
“A mouse?” Amy squealed.
He’d known she would squeal. Amy hated mice with an illogical passion.
Almost as much as she hated horses.
“There’s no need to worry, love. I went and found some traps and set up a few in our chamber. That’s what took me so long—finding the mousetraps, mostly. I had to locate some servants to help me find them.” He looked to Kendra. “Your maid—what is her name?”
“Margaret.”
“Right. She’s setting some traps in your room, too, and other servants are busy covering the rest of the cottage. You won’t see any mice.”
Violet looked horrified. “I’m so sorry you saw a mouse.”
“I had no idea there were mice in the cottage,” Ford added with a frown.
“How could you know?” Colin sent his brother an understanding smile.
“I presume you haven’t stayed in the cottage yourself.
In any case, it’s all taken care of and no harm done.
” He waved a hand in dismissal. “Here, love,” he added, handing Amy the book.
“Here’s the early Christmas gift I promised. ”
It was bound in tan leather with a gold-stamped design on the front. “The History of the World by Sir Walter Raleigh!” she exclaimed in delight. “How did you know I wanted this?”
He hadn’t known, precisely—but since Amy happily devoured nearly every book she managed to get her hands on, it had been a safe bet.
“I have a copy of that book in a quite similar binding,” Violet marveled. Most books didn’t come bound—owners typically purchased the pages and had covers made to their preferences. “How astonishing!”
“Hmm, isn’t it?” Colin murmured, although of course it wasn’t astonishing at all, considering he’d found the book in Violet’s own library.
Unfortunately, he’d had no choice but to take it.
After enlisting Margaret’s help with setting up his prank, he’d gone in search of a surprise for Amy and hit dead ends at every turn.
First he’d looked in the room he and Amy had been assigned, but found nothing he could give her besides the Christmas gift he’d brought, which he couldn’t give to her now—he had to save it for Christmas Eve.
Nothing else in his luggage seemed at all appropriate, and though the room itself was fresh and pretty (and mouse-free), it had offered nothing in the way of last-minute gifts.
He’d found naught in the rest of the building, either.
Recently remodeled, it was pristine and had yet to accumulate any clutter.
Flowers, he’d decided as he’d left the cottage.
She’d doubtless love some flowers. But he’d gone outdoors and all around the house and found no flowers.
Of course, it was late December. Although it wasn’t snowing now, a layer of snow covered everything.
And it was cold. Apparently too cold for flowers.
Next he’d sneaked in the side entrance of the main house and stolen upstairs, where again he’d found nothing appropriate.
Nothing in any of the bedrooms, nothing in Ford and Violet’s dressing room.
Ford’s laboratory had been locked, but Colin figured Amy wouldn’t want a beaker, thermometer, or microscope anyway.
No, what Amy liked was books, he’d finally realized…
Which was how he’d ended up in Violet’s library.
He’d had to go back outside and all the way around the house to the front entrance in order to get into the library undetected.
But it had been worth the cold and the trouble, because there, among a plethora of philosophy tomes, he’d found The History of the World.
Amy loved all books, but she loved history books best, so it had seemed a good choice.
Judging by Amy’s excitement, it had been a grand choice indeed.
He would simply replace Violet’s copy before she noticed it was missing.
He’d found the book on a bottom shelf—surely Violet rarely looked there—and made note of the publisher on a piece of paper he’d snitched from her desk and now had in his pocket.
The book’s front page had proclaimed it was “Printed by William Stansby for Walter Burre, and sold at his shop in Paules Church-yard at the signe of the Crane in London.” The fact that it had been printed decades ago was but a minor inconvenience.
Although Sir Walter Raleigh had been dead some seventy years, he was still a popular author—surely Colin would be able to find another copy of the book the next time he went to the City.
“What a lovely gift,” Kendra said to Amy now. “Is anyone else tired? I’m exhausted.”
“I need to finish making my gifts.” Jewel rose and stretched. “Uncle Ford, have you any wire I can use? I fear I may not have brought enough.”
“Of course,” Ford said. “Come up to my laboratory.”
“I really am tired,” Kendra repeated more loudly. “I think I fancy a nap before supper.”
Everyone turned to look at her. Colin raised a brow. “A nap?”
“Yes, a nap,” she snapped out.
A nap. Ha. He rather thought she fancied taking her husband to bed. Just let her try, he thought, hard put to keep a grin off his face.
“I’m weary, too,” Trick said. “I got home in the middle of the night.”
“So we heard.” Colin waved a magnanimous hand. “Run along, you two. And Jewel. Anyone staying here want to play cards?”