"No," she said indignantly. "I cannot, and I do not wish to."
"Afraid, Judith?" he asked, looking up into her face.
"Oh," she said, and she could hear the slight shaking in her voice, "I wish you would not."
"Call you Judith?" he said. "I would prefer it to Mrs.
Easton. Quite frankly, I do not wish to be reminded of that name. Will you call me Max? Then we will be equal."
"No," she said, "it would not be seemly. Besides, I do not want to."
She realized suddenly that she must have lifted one foot. A skate was already strapped to it and he was waiting for her to lift the other foot.
"Set your hand on my shoulder," he said, "so that you will not lose your balance."
"I wish I knew," she said as she obeyed, "why you are doing all this."
He said nothing until he had finished his task. Then he straightened up and looked down at her. "But you do know," he said. "I told you in London-at the foot of the stairs in your own home."
She frowned. "But why would you want a second chance with me, as you put it?" she said. "You did not care the first time, did you? It was an arranged match."
She flushed. She had not intended to make such an unguarded reference to the past.
"On your part perhaps," he said. "Take my arm, Judith. When we reach the ice, I am going to set my arm about your waist. Put your own up about my shoulders. And don't even think of falling. You are not going to do so."
For the first minute or so he might as well have carried her, Judith thought with a great deal of embarrassment. Her skates certainly felt quite beyond her own control. Amy went by with Mr. Cornwell and waved at her, and Rupert called to her to watch him. No one seemed to be paying any particular attention to her, she realized finally, with some relief, though she did not believe she had ever felt so foolish in her life.
But someone was taking notice of her. The Marquess of Denbigh was laughing and when she looked up it was to find his face alight with amusement. She had never noticed until that moment what very white and even teeth he had.
"I am too tall for you," he said, bringing them to a halt.
"You are quite unbalanced by the position of your arm. Let us try something different."
He kept his one arm firmly about her waist while he took her nearer hand in his free one. And she did indeed find it easier to maintain her balance.
"Oh," she said without thinking, "this is fun." And she heard herself laughing.
“I have the utmost confidence in you,'' he said. "I daresay that by this time next year, provided we have at least two months of cold weather both this year and next and you practice diligently every day, you will almost be able to skate alone."
"Oh," she said, laughing again. "I don't believe that was a compliment, was it? How lowering."
"Relax," he said. "You are tensing again. You cannot skate when you are tense."
"Oh," she said, looking up at him. And the laughter died. She was aware suddenly of his closeness, of his one arm tight about her, the upper part of it pressed against her shoulder.
He was staring back down at her, the amusement gone from his face too. His eyes were intent, steely gray beneath drooped lids. It was the look that had always terrified her when she was a girl. A look that she had not at all understood at the time, though she believed that she understood it very well now.
"You are not sorry you came, Judith?" he asked. "I did trick you into coming. You realized that. You would not have come if I had asked you alone, would you?"
"No," she said.
"And are you still sorry?" he asked. "Would you return home tonight if you could?"
She swallowed and looked sharply away from him. "The children are having a wonderful time," she said. "And so is Amy."
"You know," he said, "that that is not what I am asking you, Judith."
"I don't know," she said, and she looked back up into his eyes again. "I don't know. There is something about you I do not trust."
“Is there?'' he asked. "Or is it something about yourself? Do you not trust yourself to keep on believing that you did the right thing eight years ago?"
She drew in a sharp breath. "I must believe that," she said fiercely. "There are Rupert and Kate."
"Yes," he said. "You are right there, Judith. There are your children. But that was then. This is now. It is not the same thing at all. We are both older."
"Yes," she said.
And she wondered if he was right. Was it herself she did not trust? But it was not that. There was something about him. There was still that something.
But perhaps she was wrong. Surely she must be wrong. He had come very close to declaring an affection for her, to demonstrating to her that he was indeed trying to fix his interest with her.
Was it possible? Was it possible that after all this time and all the humiliation she had dealt him he was considering renewing his offer for her?
The idea was absurd when put into words in her mind.
And yet there were his looks and his words.
But then there was that something else too.
"Can we go to see the dogs, guv?" someone yelled across the ice.
"Oh, yes, can we?" There was a chorus of voices.
"I fear the house is about to be invaded by the canine kingdom," the marquess said. "I had all the dogs confined to the stables out of respect to my guests. But these children know very well that several of the animals normally live in the house. I hope no one has a fit of the vapors when tiiey take up residence again. Will you?"
"We have dogs at home," she said.
"Ah, yes," he said. "You mentioned that once before." He raised his voice. "Off to the stables, then. But no biting the dogs, mind."
There was a burst of raucous laughter as the children scrambled off the ice and tore impatiently at skate straps.
"I get Rambler," Daniel announced loudly. "Come on, nipper. Up you come."
Judith watched her daughter being borne away toward the stables.
"Your grooms will have forty fits apiece, Max," Mr. Cornwell said. “I had better go after them. Would you like to come, Miss Easton?"
"I shall be along too," the marquess said. He looked down at Judith. "But I cannot leave you stranded in the middle of the ice, can I? Do you wish to see the dogs too?"
She was being given a chance to shorten this encounter with him? A chance to return to the house alone or with Mr. Rockford and Lady Clancy?
She put up her chin. "Yes," she said, "I would."
Christmas Eve. It was snowing again, the flakes drifting lazily down without the aid of wind. There was enough to freshen up what had already fallen, Lord Clancy announced after a morning walk, but not enough to bury the house to the eaves.
Miss Edith Hannibal was afraid that the carriages would not be able to take them to church that evening.
"And it never quite seems to be Christmas without church," she said. "Indeed, I cannot remember a year when we did not go to church. Was there ever such a time, Frieda? But of course there was the year Mama was so sick. Indeed, she died the day after Christmas. We did not go to church that year, but then it did not seem at all like Christmas that year anyway."
The marquess assured his aunts that most of them would enjoy the walk since the church was only a mile away. There were two sleighs to convey those who would prefer to ride.