But thoughts about Ned's sister could only be fleeting when Louisa's bright hair and fair skin confronted him over the breakfast table. When he thought of her smooth white décolletage, he reflected that whoever had first likened whiteness to purity had had a strange view of nature-not that he questioned Louisa's innocence, but this strong hint of what lay beneath her gown set his own thoughts to wandering.
When his choking had subsided, and Louisa had modified her statement in a way that made his embarrassment only worse, he conceded that she was, at least, correct in her assumption. Going to church would be the best occupation for them. It would certainly go further toward convincing the Spadgers that their claims had been true. And Charles's first thought, that Ned might somehow see them at service and cause him some embarrassment, was patently ridiculous.
After breakfast, then, the two of them strolled down the village to the church, leaving Eliza in Jim's care. The boy made it plain that he would be happy to do anything to serve Louisa. Charles found such puppy-like devotion in such a hulking boy mildly annoying.
Before they entered the church, Charles cautioned Louisa to keep her spencer on throughout the service, giving the chill of the building as his reason. With Louisa better covered, he was able to keep his mind on the sermon, and, later, could leave the church convinced he had put any unsuitable notions out of his mind.
On their return, they found Nan Spadger and her son in the midst of preparations for Christmas. The Spadgers were “chapel” and had seen to their own devotions earlier that morning.
No work was allowed on Sunday, so the cooking for Christmas could not be started. However, Nan had taken the attitude that decorating the parlour for their guests and their own quarters for themselves was neither work nor a form of recreation expressly forbidden by the Sunday laws. The inn smelled of freshly cut evergreens.
When Charles came downstairs to the parlour after freshening himself, he found a pile of greenery on the floor in the doorway. Louisa was perched on a stool above it with Jim, both silent and adoring, rooted by its side to give her assistance.
Charles strode up to them. “Louisa, I thought I said-"
“Oh, there you are, Charles! Isn't this delightful? And so much better than just sitting with nothing to busy my hands!” She ignored his stare. “Of course, if we had not had our accident, I should be at home doing precisely this sort of thing right now."
Charles knew her comments were designed to forestall any criticism he might have about Louisa's working at any task inside a public inn. But there was nothing he could say in front of Jim Spadger, who was looking sheepishly at him now, that would discourage her from amusing herself in whatever way she wanted.
Charles decided he would have to send Jim from the room before he remonstrated with her.
Louisa bent toward Charles and pointed with one finger. “Would you be so obliging as to hand me that branch of holly, just past you there?"
Her smile dazzled Charles. He turned and searched the boards at his feet for the desired branch. Finding a likely candidate, he turned again, thinking, as he extended it to her, how beautifully her colouring went with this Christmas greenery.
The berries on the holly were a truer red than her hair, but not nearly so vibrant as the gold-and-copper highlights of her curls. The sprigs on her gown closely matched the forest shades of the boughs. Charles found himself stepping back to admire the picture Louisa made as she stood on tiptoe to attach the piece he had given her above the door. A glimpse of trim ankles, showing above her slippers, caused him to cast an uneasy glance Jim Spadger's way.
Louisa's voice cut into his thoughts. “Mrs. Spadger said she has several of these branches and that I might use them in any way we choose. What do you think of this arrangement?"
Charles, who had meant to be disapproving, could only mumble that the cluster above the entry should be enough.
“Nonsense,” Louisa said, smiling. “I mean to deck the whole room before the day is over. You may help if you like."
“No, thank you,” Charles said firmly. He bent to pet Eliza, who had bounded out from the kitchen to find him. She leapt in circles at his feet as if this reunion were more touching than she could quite bear, and she whimpered as if she had despaired of ever seeing him again.
“That will do. Down, girl! Down!"
“Isn't it wonderful, Charles, how much she loves you!” Louisa said. Then her tone turned wistful. “I'm afraid Geoffrey proved not to be fond of dogs."
Charles swallowed an oath and made a furious gesture behind Jim's back, begging her to show a little more discretion. Louisa just winked at him, amused and unconcerned.
She stepped down from the stool and, with Jim's assistance, moved to decorate another corner of the room.
“Jim-” Charles heard the ominous note in his own voice “-I find myself in need of a pint of your father's best. Would you fetch it for me?"
“Aye, yor lordship."
Charles waited until Jim was gone before crossing to Louisa's side.
“How could you think of mentioning Geoffrey in front of that boy?” he demanded.
She looked up, startled. “But, Charles, Jim knows nothing about my elopement. How could he? He must presume we were just talking about a friend."
“But what if he… What if you said something even less discreet? He might tumble to it somehow!"
Louisa tilted her head incredulously. “Now, Charles, you're being unreasonable.” She extended her hand to him, and he supported it without thinking while she climbed upon the stool. “Why don't you hand me another bough while we're conversing?"
“Louisa-” Charles fumed at her back for a moment before bending to pick up a branch. “It's not so much what you said just now,” he allowed as she took it from him. “It's the fact that you will mention that man at all! I should think you would be eager to forget the whole incident!"
“Of course I am, Charles. But all the same…” She sighed. “I find it hard to put the episode entirely behind me. When I think of how marriage would have changed my life-indeed, how it would change any girl's life! I can only regret that it all came to nothing."
Charles found himself colouring again. At this proximity, and with Louisa's waist at his eye level, there was only one fact about marriage he could recall at present. The thin muslin of Miss Conisbrough's dress hugged Louisa's trim waist and revealed the way her hips sloped outward in an inviting line. He might so easily stretch out his hands and pull her towards him.
His urge was almost overwhelming, and all of a sudden, he suspected Ned's hand in this. Who else but Ned could have chosen such bewitching gowns? It must be the clothes, Charles decided, the clothes and Ned's lewd suggestions.
But it did not help when Louisa provoked him with statements about Geoffrey and her own shocking reflections upon marriage.
“Louisa,” he said in a strangled voice, “I must beg you not to talk in that way. If we are to go on… that is, if I am to behave in a proper manner toward you, you must not speak in such a remarkable fashion!"
Louisa's eyes grew round. Charles could see he had managed to shock her and regretted his frank words, even before she said, “Whatever do you mean?"
But then, just as suddenly, her expression relaxed. “Now, Charles, I know you are only trying to startle me. Of course you would always behave properly towards me."
Perversely, Charles found he did not care for this assumption. “What makes you so certain?” he asked, surprising himself.