Mistletoe and Mayhem - Cheryl Bolen Page 0,224

Uncle Roger.

“How much longer will it take to get everything in order?” Gemma asked.

Bess mentally ticked off items from her list. “With our combined efforts, perhaps by tomorrow evening.”

“Don’t forget to add a day to gather Christmas greenery and decorate,” Julius said. “Once all the housework is done, I will venture out to see what I can find.”

He could handle the task alone, but Bess would benefit from a breath of fresh air after being cooped inside. “If you’ll welcome the company, I would like to join you.”

Chapter Six

“Hold tight.” Bess squeezed Julius’s hand as he coaxed her into taking her first step onto the frozen ground. “Take it slow.”

She’d skated as a child, but walking on ice was nothing like gliding around the pond on blades. She felt as uncoordinated now as she was during her first dance lesson with the most ill-tempered instructor her parents could have found.

Her stepmother had attended every lesson, sitting on the sidelines with a soured pucker of her lips while Mr. Livingston barked at Bess and flicked his hand to strike the top of hers whenever she displeased him. It reminded her of a game her brothers played. The sting often brought tears to her eyes.

Once, he’d stopped mid-lesson to bellow at the ceiling, fists clenched at his sides. The girl has chicken claws for fingers. Red-faced and sweaty, he’d raged to her stepmother. Utterly devoid of grace. You will never be rid of her.

Priscilla turned him out on the spot and earned Bess’s undying devotion. Father, who took no interest in Bess’s affairs, hadn’t lowered the news sheet when Priscilla announced the decision. He left Bess’s rearing to his second wife and didn’t wish to be bothered. Her next instructor was much kinder and restored her confidence.

Bess released Julius’s hand and cautiously scooted her feet along the ice. She wobbled, flinging her arms to the side for balance and laughing. “Had I known we would be risking our necks, I wouldn’t have agreed to this foolishness,” she lied. The cold on her cheeks and element of danger was invigorating.

“It’s not too late to turn back,” Julius said. “I can do this alone.”

“Never.” Truthfully, she enjoyed his companionship too much return to Davensworth Cottage.

Julius shifted the ax to his other shoulder and held out his arm.

“We might both end up on our backs if I lose my footing,” she said.

“I arrived on your doorstep in the middle of a storm, my dear. I am not averse to risk.”

“Indeed.” Any woman of quality should find his cocky grin and devil-may-care attitude alarming. For Bess, it conjured exciting possibilities.

When they passed the stables, her coachmen wandered outside. The men were in work clothes and held grooming tools. Ted, who’d been with her the longest, scratched his cheek. “Is there something we can do for you, my lady?”

His words were polite, but his expression suggested he thought she and Julius were mad as hatters.

“We are gathering greenery for the mantle,” she said.

“How is my horse?” Julius called.

The night of the storm, his beloved horse also found his way to Davensworth Cottage. Bess’s driver had spotted the gelding hunched under the branches of an evergreen to escape the storm and used a bucket of oats to entice him into the stables.

Ted grinned. “Torch is treated like a king, if you ask me. Will you be by later to tell him a bedtime story, my lord, or should I put him to bed?”

“If Torch is king, you must be the jester,” Julius shot back without animosity. He’d ingratiated himself to her servants in no time with the loving care he showed his horse and developed a friendly banter with them.

“I think it is sweet you talk to Torch,” she murmured and squeezed his arm.

The coachmen were still lingering outside when she and Julius entered the woods. They hadn’t walked far before Bess found a tree to suit their purpose. It was small enough for Julius to tote back to the house with full branches they could strip for garland.

“There.” She pointed. “It’s perfect.”

She moved to a safe distance while Julius swung the ax. After several whacks, the fir toppled. Bess thanked him again while he chopped off the lower branches to make it easier to transport. “You’ve gone the extra step for my cousin.”

“No one around here would think twice about doing for Miss Price.” Julius buried the ax in the trunk and walked toward Bess. He was breathing harder from exertion, but no worse for the wear.