A strangely fraught hush fell. “I believe I saw her walking in the garden,” said Justin at last, his eyes flicking from his mother to his grandmother.
“Are you certain? I’m sure I saw her heading toward the kitchens,” said Lucy.
“No, she must be with the housekeeper. She did hint there would be a splendid dinner tonight.” Anne wagged her finger at him. “Be patient, Winterton! You cannot keep her in your pocket all the time.”
I don’t want her in my pocket, Wed groused to himself. I only wanted her in my arms for a morning kiss.
He shoved back his chair. “All right. I shall see you at dinner.”
“But where are you going?” protested his mother. “We were hoping to…”
“Play charades!” cried Grace as her voice trailed off. “Please say you will, Uncle!”
Wes’s eyes flitted around the table again, suspiciously. Something was definitely up. “Perhaps later.”
“I nearly forgot,” said his mother hastily. “Viola did ask me to give you this.”
Wes all but snatched the note from her hand. With no great surprise he saw it was another riddle.
Far from the foreign bazaar, a league removed from thrills, A man must simpler pleasures apprehend, A stroll, a quiet vista, the written page, There lie adventures large and small without end…
He headed for the library.
“Is that everything?”
Mr. Jenkins, the stable master, nodded. “Aye, m’lady.”
Excellent. Viola surveyed the boxes they’d brought. Anne and Lucy were planning to come help her unpack them.
“Thank you.” She smiled and nodded at Billy and Johnny, the grooms who had finished unloading the wagon. “Go on and take the rest of the day free. No one will go out today.”
They thanked her and piled back into the wagon, rattling back up the newly widened path toward the stables. Humming softly, Viola took the broom and finished sweeping the floor. She could have sent the maids out to do this—all of it—but felt it meant a little more if she did it herself. She was still getting used to being in charge of a whole household, and she’d asked a great deal of all the servants by inviting so many guests.
But that, she did not regret. Wes had raised his brows, but she’d seen him walking the grounds with Justin, explaining why he’d done something or other around the estate. She’d heard him laughing and jesting with his sisters, who teased him with the affection of older siblings. He’d gone shooting and riding with Freddie and Thomas, and promised trips to London to his nieces, and played bowls with the little ones. For all his wandering, he loved his family. And they were beyond delighted to have him home.
She pinned a large map of the world on the wall and put fresh candles in the sconces beside it. She paused to study it. Wes had suggested any number of places where they might go on a wedding trip, but Winterbury Hall had been neglected; they were needed here. He’d promised her it was only postponed, but now it would be months before they could go.
Her eyes lingered on Brussels. “Happy Christmas, Stephen,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to her fingertip and touching it to that spot on the map. “Next year.”
She was putting sprigs of evergreen in the windowsills when Anne and Lucy arrived. Lucy flung herself out of the gig and raced to the door. “Disaster!”
Viola jerked upright, her heart pounding. “What?”
Anne hurried up beside her. “Not disaster,” she said with a stern look at her sister. “But… not good news. Winterton has left, and no one knows where he’s gone or when he will return.”
Wes found the clue Viola had left in the library—Every journey begins and ends at home, And every traveler must know the way. The best guide one could find, Is a loyal steed in want of hay—and was on his way to the stables. He had no idea what she was up to, but he was more and more amused and intrigued by it. His curiosity had reached unbearable levels, and he’d begun wondering if—or rather, hoping—he would find her at the end, reposing in a steaming bath with her hair up and that beguiling twinkle in her eye, ready to wish him a very happy Christmas in private. It was, after all, the one year anniversary of the first time he’d made love to her…
Unfortunately Rivers, the butler, intercepted him. “Mr. Gardnew has returned, my lord.”
Wes stopped. “Where?”
“The morning room, sir.”
He was already on his way, his heart leaping. He’d given up hope, but now there was a chance. He flung open the door, almost holding his breath. “Well?”
“Put into Eastbourne this morning, my lord,” replied Gardner, his face red from cold. “The weather cleared as if by divine will.”
Wes couldn’t keep back a grin of fierce elation. Inside he was shouting with it. “Excellent news, Mr. Gardner! Via the Pevensey road?”
“Yes.”
He changed his mind about finding Viola. He’d not thought this surprise, the gift she wanted above all else, would arrive in time. He was sure she would like the emerald parure wrapped in silver tissue hidden in his study, but this… this would please her far more. “I’ll ride out at once.”
“Will you, sir?” asked his steward in surprise. “It’s not necessary. I made all the arrangements…”
“I know, and I’ve every confidence they are excellent. I simply want to make certain there’s no delay.”
“Shall I come with you?”
Wes smiled. “If you wish, but feel free to stay and warm yourself with a cup of mulled wine. I appreciate all your efforts and cannot ask more of you.”
Gardner gave a rueful grin. “I’ve seen it this far, might as well finish it. Let me get a fresh horse.”
Wes clapped his shoulder. “I cannot believe we’ve pulled this off.”
Gardner laughed as they headed for the stables. “Nor can I! ’Tis a Christmas miracle, indeed!”
Viola had rearranged the ivy and pine boughs, trimmed the candle wicks, and straightened every pillow. The winter light was fading, and she’d sent Anne and Lucy
