The Yuletide Countess: Harriet's Traditional Regency Romance (11 page)

“What a
wonderful idea, darling,” said Isobel. She set about finishing her breakfast
with great enthusiasm.

Dearest
Pippa,

I received
the most astonishing news this morning. Lord G. has written to Lord F and dear
Isobel, inviting them Glencairn for yuletide. I know you are shivering at the
very notion of such a long journey in the dead of winter, and were it not for
the excessively well sprung, and well upholstered chaise that Lord Francis
keeps, I own I would be too. But with a few hot bricks and some fur rugs, I
think that all will be well, although I do pity the coachman and postilions!
The sheets will be cold at the inns on the road as well, so I must remember to
be sure that there are two bedwarmers in my chamber, as it seems my feet never
warm up with only one.

I am
shivering now as well, but not with cold, as this house is most delightfully
warm, even though London has been very chilly and damp this week. Rather, it is
more with, oh, I know not what emotion. Fear, I suppose. I have firmly put his
lordship out of my thoughts and busied myself with the wedding, and all of the
details of helping Isobel and Lord Francis in setting up their new household,
as you know. But now, if I must spend a week or more in his house as a guest,
without work of my own to keep my thoughts busy, how shall I be able to push
aside those feelings which caused me so much pain when they were not returned
last summer?

However, I
fear I have little choice in the matter. I attempted to beg off, saying I would
come to you for Christmas, but Lord Francis said in his polite, and very
pleasant, but also unyielding way, that indeed I must come with them for Lord G
asked particularly for me. I have told myself several times, not to refine too
much upon this, lest I be disappointed. He very likely only wishes for Lady
Sophia to spend time with me, but it is very hard not to wish, not to hope that
there is something more in it. I must stop now, as already, I find that I am
pondering too much on this topic, and must, for my own peace of mind, banish
these thoughts. Fortunately, dear sister, I have so much to do, that finding
something more useful to occupy my mind should not be difficult, particularly
as all of the details of this journey must now be arranged as well.

Fondly,

Harriet

Although it
was barely midafternoon, the last rays of the brief winter sun were peeping out
from under the raft of clouds in the skies over Ballydendargan, to paint a rosy
glow over the light cover of snow that lay over the landscape, as a post chaise
emblazoned with the arms of the house of Strancaster rolled over the cobbles
its main street. A lady peered out the window, her face framed by the poke of a
grey bonnet trimmed in white fox fur, while a collar of the same warmed her
neck, above her gray traveling cape.

“Oh, how happy
I am to be in dear Ballydendargan again!” Harriet exclaimed. “Just look at the
sunlight under the clouds, and the way that just the peak of Ben Farclas rises
above them. It has been a beautiful autumn in England, but winter is so much
lovelier here in Scotland.”

“Harriet, you
think everything is lovelier in Scotland,” replied Isobel, a laugh in her
voice. “What happened to the lady who vowed just this morning that she couldn’t
endure another day of traveling, and wished to be left behind in England?”

Harriet
laughed with her. “I was such a poor creature, was I not? But I awoke chilled
to the bone, and felt I could not possibly be warm enough for another such day.
Yet, the warmth of the fire in the private parlor at breakfast, and even more
so, the hot bricks under my feet, and fur rugs in the carriage set me to
rights,” she glanced out the window again and continued, “I cannot fathom,
though, how dear Lord Francis contrives to stay warm riding alongside.”

Isobel gave a
gurgle of laughter, “My dear, he is like a furnace. I assure you that I have
not been at all chilly in the morning on this journey! The heat positively
rolls off him. I do not wonder in the least that he seems completely
comfortable riding beside. I suspect that the mere sight of our fur rugs is
enough to bring him out in a sweat.” She pulled the rug on her lap up to her
chin and shivered a bit. “I am certainly glad though, that in less than an hour
we will be at Glencairn. I hope that there is a roaring fire and some hot wine
waiting for us!”

“I have no
doubt that everything at the castle will be exactly as it should be,” Harriet
declared. “Lord Glencairn is such a gentleman, as well as being an attentive
host and friend. How could it be otherwise?”

Isobel turned
her head to hide a smile. “Of course it will, Harriet. I did but jest.”

The carriage
rattled over the cobbles of the town, and then down the road that led to
Glencairn, as the ladies watched the twilight deepen. Just as it seemed that it
would be entirely dark before they arrived, the carriage turned off the road
and onto a drive bordered by tall pines, their dark green boughs dusted with
snow that glowed in the dimming light. Very shortly thereafter, the carriage
pulled up before the door of the castle, four lanterns blazing light onto the
steps leading to the entry.

As the coachman
pulled out the carriage steps, Lord Francis opened the door, holding out a hand
to Isobel, who stepped down saying gratefully, “How very glad I am to be here
at last! Five days traveling in winter is more than enough.” As Francis handed
Harriet out as well, Isobel swept up the steps to the great oaken door, which
had been thrown open so that the light of the hall spilled out of it. The
butler stood there, with two footmen, and as their party entered the castle
they were divested of bonnets, capes, coats, muffs and the other necessities of
winter travel, and soon entered the great hall, as the butler announced them.

As Harriet
walked in behind Francis and Isobel, she stopped in the archway, giving a
little gasp of happiness and wonder. Several enormous logs blazed in the
cavernous fireplace, which had never been lit in the summer, while candles
filled all the wall sconces, and massive torches were burning in the medieval
holders that dated back to the earliest days of the castle, throwing dancing shadows
up into the hammer-beamed ceiling, making the gold-painted carvings in the
spandrels sparkle in the light. Great quantities of pine boughs and holly
branches had been cut in the woods, and now formed roping that hung from the
bottom of the rafters, while still more of it had been used to craft wreaths
that adorned the antlers of several noble deer heads mounted on the walls.
Balls of mistletoe dangled on red ribbons from huge wrought iron chandeliers
full of lit tapers.

As they
crossed the floor toward the hearth, Lord Glencairn entered the hall, greeting
them in the middle. “What a pleasure to have you arrive at last!” he exclaimed.
“I was beginning to fear that we would not have the privilege of greeting you
until tomorrow.” He clasped Francis’ hand in a strong grip, and bowed to
Isobel, then turned to Harriet, saying, “How glad I am that you are here again,
Miss Walcott,” as he lifted her hand and pressed it to his lips.

Rather shocked
by his gallantry, Harriet withdrew her hand quickly and replied, “I am very
glad to be here as well, Lord Glencairn. How delightful to have the chance to
experience a Scottish Christmas here at your lovely home.” She glanced about,
looking a bit worried, but then saw Catherine Dalburn and her charges entering
the hall as well.

“Oh,” she
exclaimed in relief. “Here are Miss Dalburn along with Lady Sophia and Lord
Kincraig come to join us. I am so pleased to see them again.” She turned toward
them, and opened her arms as Sophia came running forward, to embrace her in a
hug.

“Miss Walcott,
I am so glad that you will be here to celebrate Christmas with us,” she said.
“I have missed our painting lessons, and your conversation.”

“Thank you
Sophia,” Harriet replied. “I have missed you and Douglas very much as well.
It’s far too cold for painting outdoors now, but perhaps we could set up in the
gallery upstairs and paint the snow on the hills through the windows one day
during our visit.”

Catherine
Dalburn had walked up as they spoke, and the women greeted each other,
exchanging a glance of secret understanding, that they would have a separate
conversation at a more private time.

While Harriet
greeted Catherine and the children, a cut glass bowl full of hot mulled wine
had made a welcome appearance, and Glencairn appeared at her side with a
generous cup of it for her.

“Dear Miss
Walcott, surely a cup of mulled wine will help you cast off the last of your
journey’s chill,” he said offering it to her.

Harriet
accepted it gratefully, and took a sip, enjoying the warmth, and the sweet
spicy taste of the wine on her tongue. As she sipped, Francis and Isobel joined
the little group, and the news of the past months was shared as they enjoyed
the wine. Soon enough, dinner was served, Glencairn and Francis had enjoyed
their port, and the weariness of the travelers acknowledged so that they could
all seek an early bed.

Although the
winter sun was late in arriving, it shone brilliantly on a new blanket of snow
the following morning. Harriet had barely noticed her bedchamber the previous
night, so tired was she from the journey, and relaxed from the mulled wine she
had enjoyed before dinner and in the drawing room afterwards. But, when she
awoke, a maid had already drawn the curtains, while a cheerful fire had been
lit in the hearth, and she saw that her bedchamber was both large and elegantly
decorated. The cream colored walls had ornamental panels with fanciful garden
scenes painted upon them and were bordered with silvered paneling, and an
enormous pale green and cream colored Aubusson carpet echoed the floral theme.
Pale green hangings also adorned her bedstead, while an ocean of lace trimmed
linen covered the quilts, and a young mountain of down pillows awaited the
weary head. She reached out for the bell pull, and in short order a maid came
with a tea tray that she set on the bed.

“Will you have
breakfast here, ma’am or come downstairs to the breakfast room?” she inquired.

“I think I
will join the family for breakfast,” Harriet replied.

“Very well,
I’ll bring the hot water, and would you like me to lay a dress out for you,
madam?”

“If everything
is hanging in the wardrobe I think I can manage for myself,” Harriet replied.
“Perhaps you can help me with the tapes when you return?”

“Oooh, of
course ma’am, and my mum says I’m a clever one with the hair brush and curling
tongs if you’d like a bit of help with the hair dressing,” the young girl
replied.

“What is your
name, please?” Harriet asked.

“Janet,
madam.”

“Very well,
Janet. I am Miss Walcott. You may certainly help me with my hair as well, and
the hot water will be most welcome. I’ll enjoy my tea, while I wait for you to
bring it.”

Harriet leaned
back against the pillows and looked around the room again. It was clearly a
chamber for an honored guest, and she felt somewhat astonished, but also
flattered by the marked attention Glencairn was so clearly giving her comfort.
She sipped her tea, as she pondered the situation, and then slipped on her
wrapper and walked to the wardrobe, where she selected the most becoming
morning dress she had brought along. It was a wool and silk blend fabric, in a
rosy red, with long sleeves, puffed at the top, and paisley pattern embroidered
at the hem in gold. Against the winter chill, she chose a fine wool shawl, in
shades of deeper red and gold to drape over her arms. She wore a little golden
turban instead of a lace cap. When Harriet entered the breakfast room, Isobel
thought with a bit of a shock that she looked quite 5 years younger than usual.

Harriet
settled herself at the breakfast table, with a bowl of porridge, and said, “Are
Lord Francis and Glencairn about?”

“I think they
went out to shoot this morning,” Isobel replied.

Harriet’s
relief was almost palpable and she visibly relaxed before saying, “Well, I hope
they get a fine brace of birds for our dinner. With the new snow on the ground,
it might be a very good day for that indoor painting I proposed last night.”

“I am quite
certain that Sophia would be pleased with the notion, and likely her brother as
well, if he did not join the gentlemen for the shooting.” Isobel answered.

Harriet
reached for the bell pull, and when a footman arrived, said, “Please ask Miss
Dalburn if she, Lady Sophia and Lord Kincraig would like to join me in the long
gallery in 30 minutes. If they do, could you please have the painting supplies
and easels carried there as well?”

“It seems the
staff here is quite accustomed to taking instructions from you Harriet,” Isobel
observed with a mischievous smile. “I knew you spent a great deal of time here
when I was working at the excavation this summer, but I had no notion that you
felt quite so at home!”

Harriet looked
a bit self-conscious, but merely replied, “There were so many events occurring,
and Sophy had so many questions about how to go on, that it became quite
natural. You know how I enjoy the company of young people, and her interest in
painting also brought us very close together.”

Isobel
thoughtfully changed the subject rather than continuing to tease Harriet, and
the two ladies finished breakfast. Harriet hurried to her chamber to change her
gown, since it could not be to her advantage to stain one of her most becoming
dresses on the first day of her stay. She was loathe to admit it even to
herself, but it had been Lord Glencairn’s admiration that she had been thinking
of when she had chosen her gown that morning.

In her plainer
dress, Harriet walked to the long gallery, a space above the great hall that
was part of the original castle. However, an 18
^th
century Earl had
seen fit to modernize it, and its large windows overlooking the park, numerous
rugs, capacious hearths, and comfortable furnishings made it an attractive
place to walk in inclement weather, or read in a chair near one of the
fireplaces. When she arrived the easels had been set up, and Sophy was waiting
for her a bit impatiently as Miss Dalburn read.

“Miss Walcott,
I’m glad you are here,” said Sophy.  “It is a lovely view, but how is one to
deal with such a very pale landscape?  I’m accustomed to painting more colorful
scenes.”

“One must seek
out the colors, my dear, and work with those.  It is very different than
capturing a summer view,” Harriet replied, and soon they were completely
absorbed in discussing the techniques to be used. When Sophia had her work well
underway, Harriet stepped away, and took a seat next to Miss Dalburn.  

“I think
Sophia will be occupied with her painting for some time now,” she said to
Catherine. “So you must tell me all your news, and that of the neighborhood.”

“Things have
been sadly flat since Lord Francis left so suddenly, and then you and Miss
Paley also removed to London after his departure,” Catherine replied.  “I think
we had all become quite accustomed to the excitement that opportunities to
entertain the son of a duke create.”

“It was
certainly the busiest summer I have spent here,” Harriet concurred.  She paused
a moment.  “And Lord Glencairn, how has he been?”

Catherine, who
been tempted to tease her friend about the earl, decided to spare her blushes. 
“He was quite abrupt and far less generally agreeable than usual for several
weeks.  I think a gentleman might have said he was blue-devilled.”

“I do not like
to think that I made him unhappy,” Harriet ventured. “I did not refuse him for
any lack of regard, merely out of care for my feelings, were I to wed a man who
could not return them.”

“It may have
been a very good thing for him, my dear,” Catherine said briskly.  “Glencairn,
like most men, has a high opinion of his own worth, and a few moments spent
questioning how he views others did him no harm whatsoever.  He seemed to be
more himself a few weeks ago, about the time he heard from Lord Francis that he
and Miss Paley, or I should say, Lady Francis, had wed.”

Harriet
smiled, genuine joy lighting her face. “He was so helpful to me in bringing
them together,” she exclaimed. “I am truly grateful to him now, and always will
be for that.”

“Glencairn was
clearly very pleased with the news as well, and he was still cheerier when he
learned that your party would be here for Christmas.  He has planned several
entertainments, and the castle is decorated far more elaborately than usual. 
Sophy and Douglas are overjoyed.”

Harriet, who
felt that the conversation was approaching a topic she would rather not
discuss, grasped at the mention of the children to change the subject.  “I hope
that they are also pleased that we are visiting, and that Christmas at
Glencairn will be particularly merry this year,” she said brightly.

Catherine
smiled in return.  “They were thrilled to hear that you were visiting.   Sophy
has been far more interested than usual in applying herself to her deportment,
and has even asked whether we can begin a subscription to
La Belle Assemblée
,
if you please!”

Harriet
laughed.  “Oh, dear.  I suppose it is because I mentioned last summer how a
young lady just coming out would dress quite differently from a lady like Miss
Paley with several Seasons behind her.  It must have piqued her interest.”

“It did
indeed!  I have had endless speculation on the subject from her.”

“You may be
well advised to order the subscription, my dear,” Harriet continued.  “For in
addition to fashion plates it contains poetry and fiction, both of high
quality, and suitable for a young lady approaching adulthood. There are also
discussions of science and politics that both Douglas and Sophy could learn
from.  I suggest you ask Lord Glencairn to consider it.”

“Well, if you
recommend it, Harriet, I am quite sure his lordship will be delighted to
comply.  He sets great store by your familiarity with the ways of polite
society, and your refining influence on Sophy.”

“She seems to
have matured even since this summer, and has a natural ease with people.  I
don’t think she needs a great deal of assistance from me,” Harriet replied. 

Catherine
looked over at the girl, her head bent intently over her painting. “I think
Glencairn still hopes that you will exercise a great deal of influence over her
in the future,” she murmured with a smile.  

At that
moment, Sophia looked over at them.  “Miss Walcott, I have a few more questions
for you,” she said.  “Would you please take a moment to see how I’m getting on
with this?”

Harriet arose,
and went to help Sophia.