farm in Wesloria. With Marek.
She winced a little when she shifted in the chair she’d taken. In spite of having made the gown a little looser, it was still tight. But it was truly stunning—Ruth had said she looked as pretty as she’d ever seen her when she’d helped her dress her hair this morning. Hollis wished Marek was here to see her. This is the way she wanted him to remember her.
“Is Molly coming?” Mr. Brimble asked as he passed by Hollis, stroking Pris. “She’ll be late, I think.” He walked on.
Hollis stood and went to the Christmas tree. There were little gifts inserted in the boughs, the paper tags tied to them sporting Eliza’s handwriting. There were new knitting needles for Pappa. A tiny notebook for Hollis. A trouser belt for Caroline.
The dogs startled them all when they suddenly leaped to their feet and began barking as they raced from the room. Hollis could hear Ben’s deep voice, and her heart caught, hoping the next voice was Marek’s. But, no, the next voice was that of a woman, and moments later, Lady Blythe Northcote and her father entered the room.
Beck immediately clambered to his feet. “My lord,” he said to her father. “Lady Blythe.”
“Happy Christmas, Lord Iddesleigh!” Lady Blythe said cheerfully. “Happy Christmas to you all.” She was wearing pale blue that showcased her large bosom, and her ginger red hair had been dressed with leaves of holly. Hollis liked this cheerful woman.
“Wonderful!” Caroline said. “Now that you’ve arrived, let the festivities begin.”
The introductions were made, and Ben and Margaret, Poppy and Ruth joined them, crowding in beside the tree. Caroline had always been a consummate hostess, no matter whose house it was, and today was no exception—she made sure everyone had wassail or eggnog. She even convinced Donovan to lend his voice to some carols. Donovan said he would only if Ruth joined him.
Lady Blythe proclaimed them both true talents and handed her glass to Beck to be refilled. “I can accompany you on the pianoforte,” she suggested, looking at the one that had been pushed in the corner of the room.
“Oh, dear, Lady Blythe—it has sat unused for many years,” Eliza said.
“Oh, let’s try it. It’s Christmas!” Lady Blythe said. She pulled it away from the wall herself, then sat and began to play. Hollis supposed Lady Blythe’s playing was adequate, but the pianoforte was so out of tune that it sounded wretched.
“With all due respect, madam, you are butchering what would otherwise be a lovely carol!” Beck complained.
“What’s that?” Lady Blythe said.
Oh, but Hollis really liked her.
“I said you are ruining the music!” Beck shouted.
“My lord, you really must look on the bright side of things!” she insisted.
“I fail to see the bright side of an instrument so out of tune.”
She stopped playing. “The bright side is that you have Christmas carols and your loved ones and everyone is having a grand time.” She laughed and continued playing with heavy hands, while Donovan and Ruth gamely carried on.
Hollis stole a glance at Eliza and Caroline. The three of them smiled pertly at each other, silently agreeing that yes, Lady Blythe was the one.
When they’d finished their attempt at caroling, Leopold and Sebastian were pressed to perform an Alucian carol, which, Sebastian sheepishly pointed out, was a drinking song. Cecelia clapped with delight as her father and uncle sang. Upon the conclusion of that rousing song, Ben announced, quite formally, “Dinner is served, Your Honor.”
“What are you putting on airs for?” Poppy asked as she breezed past him. “This way, everyone, if you please!”
They all made their way across the hall to the dining room, then squeezed around the table. Margaret had gone to a lot of trouble. The goose was cooked to a golden-brown. She’d prepared oysters and Yorkshire pudding and, she said proudly, “A sweet mince pie.”
As they found their places and began to hand the food around, Jack and John went from chair to chair, looking for bites and bits.
Lord Kendal, Lady Blythe’s father, asked Beck about his plans for Iddesleigh. Beck, who had taken a large bite of goose, didn’t answer straightaway.
“What can possibly be done with Iddesleigh?” Lady Blythe asked. “It’s no bigger than a deer’s dropping.”
Beck’s head snapped around to Lady Blythe. And in that moment, Hollis would later say, she saw his gaze change. “That’s what I’ve said.”
“It really makes one wonder why an earlship was named for it, doesn’t it?” she said. “Do you suppose it was punishment?”
Beck