And there was something admirable about her courage. She had walked the whole circle of the Whispering Gallery at St. Paul's with him, even though he had known from the slight tremor in her voice that she had been terrified, and she had looked down at her son's direction and waved to her daughter and sister-in-law in the nave below. She had unconsciously gripped his arm a little tighter at mat moment. She had spent ten whole minutes testing the acoustics of the Whispering Gallery to please her son.
But knowing someone was courageous was not the same thing as liking that person or growing soft in one's intentions for that person. He had always known that she was a woman well in command of her emotions. Or at least, he had known it since that morning after the opera when her white-faced father had called on him to bring his betrothal to an end.
No, courage, control over emotions did not necessarily
make a person likable. And even the most vicious and degenerate of creatures were capable of showing mother love.
He rode in the direction of Lord Blakeford's home. The ladies would in all likelihood have returned from their afternoon's walk, if they had taken it in this weather. He hoped so, at least. This was the visit he had been building toward since his arrival in London. He drew some deep and steadying breaths. He hoped the children would be downstairs for tea. He would be far more confident of success if they were.
They were. In fact, the tea tray had not yet been brought in, and Lord Denbigh realized as he followed the butler into the drawing room that the ladies had only just risen from the floor, where a game of spillikins was in progress. Miss Easton was smoothing out the folds of her dress and laughing, rather flustered. Judith was busy sticking out her chin and clasping her hands calmly in front of her.
"Good afternoon, my lord," she said.
"How civil of you to call on us, my lord," Amy said. "Have you come to join us for tea?"
"I came to get myself out of the snow for a few minutes," he said, "and to assure myself that you are all well after our outing yesterday. But if I am being invited to tea, ma'am, I will most gratefully accept."
"Do you have Pegasus with you, sir?" Rupert asked.
"Yes, indeed," the marquess said, rubbing his hands together to warm them. “But he looked rather like a white-haired old man by the time we arrived here. He was quite covered with snow."
Kate chuckled. "Old man," she said.
Judith had no choice in the matter, as he had intended. Soon he was seated by the fire with Kate on his knee showing him some of the Christmas bows they had made already from the ribbons he had purchased at the river booth. Amy was telling him that they had forgone their walk that day in order to drive to Oxford Street to shop for their Christmas gifts.
"I bought Mama a-" Kate began.
"Sh," Amy said. "Secrets, love."
"-pair of scissors," Kate whispered in his ear, tickling it.
Judith was pouring tea from the tray, which had just arrived.
"She will be delighted with that," the marquess said, looking into the wide dark eyes gazing eagerly into his and resisting the urge to hug the child.
He let conversation flow of its own volition for a while. But matters were made easy for him. The children, and their aunt too, had Christmas very much on their minds.
"I do believe we will be able to buy greenery at the markets, my lord, will we not?" Amy asked. "It would not seem like Christmas without greenery. And we have several of the bows with which to decorate it made already. I regret that we will not be able to gather our own this year."
"Yes," he said, "I would find it strange too. There are masses of holly bushes at Denbigh Park. The soil must be very suited to them there. They are almost always laden with berries. And the pine trees are so thick that they do not miss the boughs cut from them. I have sometimes been accused of making my home look like an indoor forest at Christmas.''
Amy sighed. "I was very happy to come here witfi Judith and the children," she said, "and I know I will not regret my first Christmas away from home. But if there is one thing I will miss more than any other it is the caroling. There is nothing that more joyfully conveys the spirit of Christmas, I always think, than going from house to house singing the old carols and seeing the smiles on everyone's faces and tasting the wassail and the cider and the fruit cake. I have suggested that the four of us go caroling here, but every time I do so Rupert looks scornful, Kate will only smile, and Judith looks embarrassed." She laughed.
"There was never a strong tradition of caroling in my neighborhood," he said, "until a lady new to the area began it two years ago. It has taken well, but most of her singers are children. She is always pleading for new adult voices to help lead the singing."
Amy sighed again.
"Last year," Rupert said, "Rodney had a whole boxful of tin soldiers and we set them up in the nursery and had
a war that lasted for two whole days. You never saw such fun, sir. There were seven or eight of us playing all the time and sometimes the girls joined in too. My side won because we had Bevin playing with us. He is twelve years old."
Kate had found the marquess's quizzing glass again and was quietly playing with it.
“My house is going to be overrun with boys and girls this year," Lord Denbigh said. "Twenty altogether-ten boys and ten girls. They were there last year too, and I am quite confident in saying that it was the best Christmas Denbigh has ever known. Of course, my guests have to be warned. Some people do not consider such boisterous fun to their taste. But no one refused last year and no one has yet refused this year."
"Ten boys?" Rupert said wistfully.
"The youngest five and the oldest eleven," the marquess said. "I imagine it will be a very enjoyable Christmas for everyone who will be there, adults and children alike." He looked at Judith for the first time since he had sat down. She was looking at him tensely, her cup stranded halfway between her saucer and her mouth. Yes, my lady, he told her with his eyes. Oh, yes indeed. "Holly. Ivy. Pine boughs. Decorations. A Yule log. Good food and drink. Games. Dancing. Caroling and church going. Outdoor exercise. Skating. Perhaps sledding and snowballs if the snow decides to come in earnest."
"Skating," Rupert said, longing in his voice. "I can skate like the wind. Papa said so when we used to skate before he died."
Kate was patting the marquess's waistcoat with her free hand. He looked down at her.
"Yes, ma'am?" he said. "What may I do for you?"
"Can we come?"
"Kate!" Judith's cup clattered back into her saucer.
"Actually," he said, "my very reason for coming here today was to invite you. Would you like to come?" He looked from Kate to Rupert.
Rupert jumped to his feet. "Mama too?" he yelled.
"Aunt Amy too?" Kate asked.
"All of you," he said. "I cannot quite imagine Christmas without you. Will you do me the honor of coming, ma'am?" He looked directly at Amy. "Despite the shortness of the notice?"
"Oh." Amy clasped her hands to her bosom and looked across at Judith.
"Ye-e-es!" Rupert cried.
Kate looked fixedly up into the marquess's face.
"Ma'am?" Lord Denbigh looked at Judith, whose face had lost all color. "Perhaps I should have asked you privately? It looks as if your family will be disappointed if you say no and you would, very unfairly, seem to be the villain. But it will please me more than I can say if you accept."
"Oh, Judith," Amy said, "it would be so wonderful."
"Lord Denbigh's housekeeper will not be expecting four extra guests," Judith said in a strangled voice.