Chapter Fourteen
Christmas Eve
Anticipation and excitement buzzed at the base of Barr’s spine as he rapped on the door frame of the study so he wouldn’t startle Cate while she worked.
If he allowed himself, he’d become caught up in the recollection of what they’d shared together in this very room.
That moment of vulnerability she’d let him see had been everything, and had made her even more approachable.
To say nothing of how that quick, frantic coupling had bonded them even closer.
What the devil should I do about that?
“Might I interrupt you for a moment?”
She glanced at him from behind the desk. “Of course.” When she offered him a soft smile, his world tilted, and a queer little hitch went through his heart. “Is there something pressing?”
“Not at all.” As he came into the room, he glanced at the window. “The rain has slacked off somewhat, and from what I can see, there is a brief break in the clouds, so I’d like to make the best use of the reprieve from the precipitation.”
“What have you planned? It is Christmas Eve, so I rather doubt the shops will be open. Perhaps the poulteress or a bakery? But you would push your luck to try.”
“I am not interested in any of that.” He rested his gaze upon her.
Had she always been so uncommonly beautiful?
In the flickering candlelight, he discerned tiny golden flecks in the brown depths of her irises, and why had he never seen the small dark beauty mark over her right eyebrow or the slight dimple in her left cheek when she smiled?
Because you’ve allowed your prick to lead you this whole time.
Perhaps his conscience was correct, and that needed to change. He cleared his throat. “I was thinking of driving out to Hyde Park for a quick visit.”
A frown tugged the corners of her kissable mouth downward. “Whyever for?”
Heat crept up the back of his neck. “I would like to bring back some mistletoe.”
Surprise flickered through her expression. “Mistletoe?”
Barr nodded. “As I told you before, my wife was insistent that the holiday was marked with sprigs of the plant, and in years past, my son went out to Hyde Park and fetched some, but since he’s not here, I thought I’d do it, and I’d hoped you might like to accompany me merely to get out of the house for a bit. ”
Would she think him too lost in the past or in silly traditions that had no bearing now?
With a glance to the window, she nodded. “I would be game for an outing.”
“Excellent. Shall we crack on, then? Hyde Park is the most likely place we’ll begin, though I have heard stories that sometimes mistletoe has been found in apple trees in the countryside.
If not, we’ll search in one of the other parks.
” He shrugged. “Once we’re sufficiently chilled and have the plant in hand, we’ll return here for some much-needed tea.
” It was ridiculous to be so excited for an outing in the drizzle, wasn’t it?
A half hour later saw them in a closed carriage. A footman rode beside the driver—it seemed the young man was only too eager to escape the house as well—and instead of the drizzle of before, the temperatures had dropped, which led to snow flurries.
“I am looking forward to that tea later,” Cate mentioned as she gave into a shiver from where she sat on the bench opposite him. “Just the other day, I’d wondered if London would experience snow like the northern part of the country is having currently, and now I know.”
It was insanity how wildly the weather swung.
“At least it’s a change from the rain.” Yet would all the puddles and rutting in the roads freeze and make travel even more hazardous?
It was anyone’s guess, but despite the fact a holiday was tomorrow, there was much vehicle and pedestrian traffic all through Mayfair.
“There is that.” She offered a smile but then turned her face to look out the window.
The brim of her bonnet shielded her eyes from his view.
“A part of me hopes London will be covered with snow by tomorrow even though it will make a mess of things.” Pressing a gloved fingertip to the window glass, she sighed.
“But it’s so pretty, almost romantic in its simplicity. ”
It was another insight into the woman she was, and the realization that she wasn’t complicated gave him a feeling of peace.
Nothing about her demanded anything from him except his attention and notice.
She never hinted for gifts, or the use of his box at the opera, and never once did she accuse him of inappropriate conduct or want him to marry her.
That added to her intelligence, her compassion, her zest for learning all had his admiration for her rising.
“The snow almost gives the world a fresh start with the blanket of white.”
“It does.” When Cate rested her gaze back on him, she smiled.
“The winter is just so cozy. I adore sitting near a fire when flakes are coming down outside.” A throaty sort of sound escaped her as she laughed.
“When I was a young girl, sometimes Papa would take Mama and I out to the country. We would rent a cottage and spend a couple of weeks tramping through the snow and sometimes sledding. Papa was never much for hunting, but he is an avid bird watcher. Fills countless pages of notebooks with jottings about the birds he’s seen, how they behave, and the like.
” She shrugged. “He’s a dear, of course, but his love of birds has been replaced with Roman antiquities and history, I think. ”
“It is good to have pursues and hobbies that fill us with interests.”
“Do you have any besides doing renovations with your own two hands?”
“Well, I have always thought it might be lovely to learn how to sail. Since my country estate is very near to Cornwall and the sea, I’m curious about taking a boat out and tacking the waves.”
“Oh!” Her eyes lit. “I think you would be a fine sailor indeed.”
Barr couldn’t help but chuckle. “I’d imagine a few dunks in the sea would knock that notion out of my mind.”
“You’ll never know until you try it.”
“Yet you couldn’t come since the sea makes you ill.”
She shrugged. “Surely, there must be a cure.”
Suddenly, he could imagine next summertime with the sun shining down to reflect on the water.
There was laughter in the air as well as the cry of gulls and other water birds, but Cate was there as well.
She walked along the shore with her brown hair unbound and tossed on the breeze, but what was more, his children were there, talking and joking with her, and he could almost feel how her hand felt in his.
Did he have the courage to make that a reality or was it merely wishful thinking? What he truly needed was to talk again with Travers or perhaps his cook. He needed advice from the people who knew him the best, or perhaps he’d write a letter to his son. That was overdue, in any event.
By the time the carriage arrived at Hyde Park, the flurries were coming down in earnest, and the flakes were big and fluffy, much like pieces of lace.
Once he alighted and then assisted Cate out, he addressed the young footman, whose name was Ronald.
“The mission today is to procure a few sprigs of mistletoe. Since it’s a bit like a thief and lives off healthy trees, we’ll no doubt find it in branches of oak trees and the like.
The snow might make climbing a bit challenging, but we’ll manage. ”
The footman nodded. “I’ve brought along a saw, Your Grace, as well as a knife.”
“Good man.” Barr glanced at Cate. “Ready?”
“I suppose so. It’s been ages since I hunted for any sort of holiday greenery.” She laid a hand on his arm, and he rather enjoyed that bit of connection.
“Then we’ll have a bit of an adventure.” He escorted her along behind the footman. “Did your parents ever put much stock in the power of mistletoe?”
“Ha.” She chuckled and amusement reflected in her eyes.
“Not a bit of it. My father often called the plant a parasite, for that is what it is, and he never failed to remind everyone that the plant is quite toxic. My mother was forever planning her next social engagement, so she let him ramble on, but I rather doubt she even knew what he talked about. They adored each other, of course, yet their interests rarely put them together beyond the domestic.”
“I’ll wager you take after your father?”
“Perhaps, since I find myself gravitating toward bookish things over societal ones.”
“There is nothing wrong with that.”
“I wonder sometimes.” But she said nothing else as they walked deeper into the park.
A good half hour passed as the three of them browsed beneath countless trees in the hunt of mistletoe. Every once in a while, Cate put out a hand to catch snowflakes on her glove, and the delight in her expression tugged at his heart.
Then a shout from Ronald brought him beneath a particularly large oak tree, whose dried brown leaves still clung to some of its branches despite the winter season having just started.
“I think I see some,” the footman said as he pointed through the branches halfway up into the tree. “Barely visible, but it’s just there.”
With a frown, Barr took a peek where the footman indicated. There was the hint of white berries in what appeared to be a rounded wad of yellowish green leaves. “Fair enough. You climb first and I’ll follow behind.”
Surprise once more went through Cate’s expression. “You intend to go up into that tree?”
“Yes, why not? How can I expect Ronald to risk his life if I’m not willing to do the same?” One of his eyebrows rose. “Besides, I used to do the same all the time when I was a youth. It should be easy work.”
“Except you’re not a youth any longer, and that was a long time ago.”
Another blow to his ego, but he brushed it aside. “You’ll see. Don’t fret. All will be well.” Then he nodded at the footman. “Lead on, Ronald.”
“Oh, please be careful, the both of you.” She huffed. “I can’t really see that a bit of plant life is worth the risk.”