A Partridge in a Pear Tree Page 6

  “Are we under attack?” she said, her voice muffled against his wool greatcoat.

  “Ye're trespassin',” a stentorian voice rang out, along with the ominous click of a gun being reloaded. “I hates trespassers.”

  Allison peeked past William's shoulder to see a large, burly man in sturdy country tweeds and tall boots. His small blue eyes and cold-reddened nose were almost hidden behind bushy white brows and a wild beard.

  Did the Sleeping Beauty's castle have a guardian troll in it? Allison couldn't remember that part of the story.

  “Stay behind me,” William whispered. He rose to his feet, pulling Allison up with him. “Forgive us, sir, but we never meant to trespass. Are you perchance the owner of this house?”

  The man lowered his gun a fraction. “Nay, I be the caretaker. John Harper.”

  “Well, Mr. Harper, we only wished to ask permission of the owner to skate on the pond. We were struck by the beauty of the carving over the door, and came to examine it closer.”

  John's brows softened a bit. “Oh, aye. It's a pretty piece, that. But you can't ask the owner nothing.”

  “Is he away?” Allison asked carefully, standing on her tiptoes to peek past William's shoulder.

  “Has been these last two years. He lost all his money, y'see, and went off to India. I looks after it until a new owner can be found to buy the place.”

  “You mean no one has yet purchased such a lovely house?” Allison was incredulous. Why, if she had a chance for such a home...

  John Harper relented completely then, and lowered the gun to the ground. “It's a right pretty place, miss. But some folks thinks it's too far from London.”

  The girls had cautiously ventured out from behind the hedge, and now stood crowded close to Allison and William, peeking up at him with their large eyes.

  “What is this house called?” Gertrude asked.

  “Swan's Court,” John Harper answered. “In the summer there's swans what lives on the pond. But in the winter the villagers come to skate on it. So I suppose you could, too.”

  “Lovely!” the twins shouted, casting longing glances at the sparkling pond.

  William stepped forward slowly to offer his hand for Mr. Harper to shake. “I wonder, good sir, if we might ask you another great favor...”

  **

  “Allie! Allie, watch me!” Kitty darted out onto the ice, and executed a pretty spin.

  “Do be careful, Kitty,” Allison called, reaching down to tighten the fastenings of her skates, borrowed from the Swan's Court store room. “I don't want you to fall and break anything.”

  “Of course I won't,” Kitty scoffed. She slid away to join Jane and Gertrude, who were circling the edges of the pond.

  Allison looked back across the field to the house. I looked like a fine jewel amid the greenery and the sparkling snow. She could just barely see where William and John Harper were standing on ladders to take a rubbing of the swan frieze.

  Now that they were free of the threat of Mr. Harper's gun, she could think more clearly of the delicious sensations of having William's body pressed against hers.

  It had truly been most interesting, she mused, watching as William shed his coat to work on the frieze. It made her shiver even now to remember it. Maybe, if they had not been under attack for trespassing, he might even have kissed her...

  She wondered what that would have been like.

  “Allie!” Jane called. “Aren't you going to skate with us?”

  Startled out of her daydreams, she glanced up to find that the girls had stopped quite close, and were watching her expectantly.

  “Oh, yes. Of course,” she said. As she pushed out onto the ice and joined them in their circle of the pond, Kitty gave her a teasing smile.

  “You certainly had a dreamy look on your face, Allie,” she said.

  “She was probably wondering what it would be like to live here,” Jane said with a giggle. “With a certain person and a nursery full of pretty babies.”

  “Girls,” Allison said warningly, looking at Gertrude to see if she knew that the twins were teasing about her own brother. But Gertrude was studying Swan Court.

  “I wouldn't mind living here,” Gertrude said. “It would probably be lovely. Like a real home.”

  “Don't you like where you live, Gertie?” Kitty asked, doing another graceful little spin.

  “It's very big and empty,” Gertrude answered in a small, distant voice. “Not cozy and pretty like here.”

  “well, if it is cozy you want, you should come and see our cottage,” said Jane. “It's so cozy, there is scarcely room to walk.”

  “We're always tripping over the dogs and Mama's sewing,” added Kitty.

  “It sounds wonderful,” said Gertrude. “There is nothing at all to trip over at my house.”

  “Not like here, on the ice!” Kitty cried. “Come on, I'll race you all the to the end of the pond.”

  The three girls dashed off amid a tangle of coats and laughter, flashing skates, but Allison lingered to wait for William, who was coming along the field with his skates in his hand.

  As she watched him move closer, his golden hair tousled in the wind, his smile bright and warm, she thought about his sister's words. It made her heart ache to think of William and Gertrude living in a cold, empty house, a house that must echo with sad memories of their parents' deaths. At least in their cottage, as small as it was, there was always love and laughter.

  Suddenly, her family's quiet life together didn't seem bad at all. She missed her mother with a sharp pang.

  “Why, Allison!” William said, coming upon her just as she felt the prickle of tears at her eyes. “Whatever is the matter?”

  She attempted a smile. “Nothing at all! How could anything be wrong on such a lovely day?”

  “Nonsense. You are almost crying.” He dug out a handkerchief and pressed it into her hand. “Now, tell me what it is, let me fix it.”

  “I was just thinking about my family,” she said, wiping carefully at her cheeks. The soft linen held William's own wonderful scent. “I was missing my mother.”

  “Why did she not come with you to Kirkwood Manor? You never said.”

  “She's not very well, and thought she had best not undertake the journey. But she would have loved this holiday so much. She always tries to make Christmas special for us.”

  He nodded thoughtfully, and sat down on a fallen log to fasten his skates. “Well, come skating with me now. The exercise will do us both good.”

  “Yes, of course,” she said with a smile, tucking the handkerchief into her sleeve to secret away for later. Later, when she was missing him. “You are quite right.”

  “And you will be glad to know we managed to take a fine rubbing of the frieze,” he said, and took her arm in his strong clasp to lead her back out onto the ice. “Mr. Harper is just gone to find a box to transport it to Kirkwood Manor.”

  “That sounds lovely,” she said firmly, clutching his hand and leading him onto the ice, as light and free as if they were dancing. “But now no more talk of days of Christmas! Let's enjoy this moment...”

  **

  “Are you going to the village dance, then, Miss Gordon?” asked Lady Kirkwood's maid, Rose, as she helped Allison dress her hair for the day.

  “The village dance?” Allison said, enjoying the unaccustomed luxury of having someone else fix her hair. The curls actually looked smooth and glossy under Rose's hands.

  “Oh, yes. It's a tradition held every year on Christmas Eve on the village green.”

  “An outdoor party in December? Doesn't it get rather cold?”

  “No, miss, not at all! There are bonfires, and the dancing keeps one warm.” She laughed as she threaded a ribbon through Allison's curls. “Not to mention the rum punch from the Rose and Crown.”

  Allison was intrigued. In the village near their cottage back home, there was always a little Christmas party at the vicarage, with a claret cup and the vicar's sister playing carols on the pianofort
e. It was the height of the social season there. But bonfires and dancing sounded like much more fun.

  And there was always the chance William might ask her to dance. That would indeed be a memory to cherish once she was back home again.

  As if to echo her thoughts, Rose said, “Mr. Bradford, your young gentleman, looks as if he'd be a fine one in a jig.”

  “He isn't my young man,” Allison protested, even though her heart felt a sudden lightness at hearing such words.

  “Isn't he?” Rose peered at her closely in the mirror. “Well, I am sure he very soon will be. Especially if you come to this dance with him.”

  “Can children come to the dance, too?” Allison asked, already having visions to twirling around bonfires in William's arms. “I don't think my sisters should be left alone here. There is no telling what trouble they could get into.”

  “Of course! Everyone comes to the Christmas dance.”

  “Then I will see you all there...”

  **

  Four dances later, out of breath and exhilarated, Allison fell against William's shoulder, laughing helplessly, as the musicians struck up yet another lively tune.

  “Shall we dance again?” William asked, holding her close against him.

  “I don't think I could. Not just yet. I can scarcely catch my breath.”

  “Then let's go get something to drink, and sit down for a while.”

  “That sounds lovely.”

  They found glasses of punch from the long tables set up in the shadow of the public house walls, and settled on a bench in a dimly lit nook from which to watch the festivities.

  Allison smiled as she saw the twins playing blindman's buff with the other young people, their cheeks pink with merriment in the brilliant light of the bonfires. The music sang out on the cold wind. It was a truly splendid evening, one she would never forget.

  If only it could go on and on...

  “Allison,” William said, his suddenly serious tone at odd contrast with the merry holiday scene before them.

  She turned to look up at him in concern. “William? What is it? Is something amiss?”

  “No, of course not. It's just—I must talk to you about something. I was going to wait, to be patient, but seeing you here tonight—I have to say it.”

  An odd mix of dread and excitement caused Allison's hand to shake. What could possibly be making William, usually so calm and teasingly merry, be so pale and serious?

  It had to be something either horrible or wonderful.

  She carefully placed her glass on the ground before she could spill the punch, and steeled herself to face him. “Yes, William?”

  “Allison. I love you,” he said quickly, then looked as if he had swallowed a frog.

  She felt her jaw drop as she stared at him like a lackwit. Were her ears deceiving her? Did he just say... “You love me?”

  He nodded. “I do. I think I fell in love with you when we first met four years ago, but I was too young and foolish to realize it. But now I know, I love you, Allison Gordon. I love your fiery red hair, and your sweet smile, and your cleverness and kind heart, and—everything.” His smiled ruefully. “i am saying this very badly, aren't I? I'm being terribly clumsy.”

  “Oh, William,” she said, a silly grin tugging at her lips. “I love you, too.”

  His eyes widened, and he grinned a very silly grin of his own. It was the most beautiful sight she had ever seen. “You do?”

  “I do. Truly.”

  He swooped down and kissed her, the softest, sweetest, dearest kiss ever. Allison grasped the lapels of his greatcoat in her gloved hands and leaned into him, absorbing his strength and his warmth into herself.

  When at last they parted, she leaned her cheek against his shoulder and sighed happily.

  “I have little money,” he said. “Not much to offer you. But I will work hard to make us a fine life.”

  “I have little money, either,” she answered blithely, still floating on love's pink cloud, where such mundane considerations as incomes and houses had no place. Not yet. That would come all too soon. “And you have one very valuable thing indeed to offer me.”

  “And what is that?”

  She looked up at him, and kissed his handsome cheek. “Yourself, of course. That is all I want.”

  He smiled, but his eyes still looked shadowed. Concerned. “I want to marry you, Allison, more than I have ever wanted anything. But I don't want you to regret being my wife.”

  “I never could. I know it won't be easy, but we can all live at my family's cottage if we must. There is room for you and Gertrude, and anyone else who might come along.” She rested her cheek on his shoulder, letting the bliss of the moment soak into her. “It will be fine. You'll see, my love. We have each other now.”

  “Yes,” he said, pressing a kiss to her hair. “We have each other.”

  His arms tightened around her, and he was all she knew.

  They didn't even see the dark-cloaked woman who stood hidden behind the edge of the wall. But Lady Kirkwood's faithful maid Rose saw, and heard, them. With a little smile, she slipped away and headed back down the lane to Kirkwood Manor to tell her employer all she had learned.

  Chapter Ten

  Christmas Day

  “Allie! Allie, wake up!”

  “It's Christmas, slugabed! You are sleeping the whole day away.”

  Allison groaned, and opened her eyes to find the much too energetic twins climbing onto her bed. They had opened the window draperies, and pale yellow sunlight streamed into the room.

  She pulled the bedclothes back over her head. It felt as if she had only just fallen asleep. “What time is it?”

  “Nearly nine o'clock. And we are meant to go to church with Lady Kirkwood, remember?” Jane said, with a little bounce on the feather mattress.

  “Even newly engaged ladies can't stay abed all day,” Kitty added, pulling the blankets down.

  Allison and William had told the girls, in strictest confidence, about their intention to wed, and they had been able to speak of nothing else but their plans to be bridesmaids all the way home from the dance.

  Allison laughed, and sat up against the pillows. “You are quite right, my dears. Christmas isn't a day for lazing about.”

  “We brought you some tea,” Jane said, producing a half-full cup from behind her back.

  “And gifts!” Kitty in turn brought out two brightly wrapped packages.

  Allison clapped her hands in delight. “Gifts and tea! You are the best sisters ever. She kissed their cheeks, almost upsetting the tea in the process. “And I think that if you look in the wardrobe, you will see something there with your names on it.”

  With shouts of glee, the twins ran to the wardrobe, tripping over their nightgown hems, to pull out two parcels from under the gowns and pelisse.

  Soon the whole bed was covered with bright ribbons. Kitty and Jane put on their new satin slippers and silk stockings, bought from the egg and butter money Allison had so carefully saved over the months, and paraded around the room. Allison wrapped the clumsily knit, but lovingly made, red shawl around her neck and pulled on the matching mittens.

  “I will be the warmest person in church today,” she said. “But I can't believe you made these yourselves, and I didn't even know!”

  Kitty came and snuggled at her side under the blankets. “We've worked on them since the summer.”

  Jane laid down on her other side. “We made a blue shawl for Mama, but we'll have to give it to her when we get home next week, since we forgot to leave it. Do you think she'll like it?”

  “I think she will love it.”

  There was a knock at the door, and the twins tumbled off the bed to go answer it.

  Rose stood there, two large boxes in her arms. “Good morning, Miss Gordon. And Miss Kitty, and Miss Jane. Happy Christmas to you all!”

  “Happy Christmas, Rose!” the twins chorused, eying the boxes in curiosity.

  “These are for you, from Lady Kirkwood. And sh
e also sends a message for you, Miss Gordon.” Rose handed the boxes over to the eager girls. “She wants to know if you and Mr. Bradford will join her in the library directly after church.”

  She smiled, bobbed a curtsy, and left, shutting the door softly behind her.

  Allison was so puzzled by this strange invitation that she didn't notice her sisters tearing open the boxes until she heard their shrieks of pleasure.

  “Oh, Allie! Just look,” Jane cried. “Ballgowns.”

  “And they match our new slippers perfectly,” Kitty said, holding up a gown of green velvet trimmed with cream-colored ribbons. It made her look like a young lady, no longer a child, and Allison had to smile.

  Jane clutched a matching gown, made of rose-pink. “It's the loveliest gown I've ever seen.”

  “Come and see yours, Allie.”

  Allison suddenly felt quite as excited as they were. She'd never owned a real ballgown, just old gowns of her mother's remade. She scrambled out of bed to lift the lid on her own box—and gasped when she saw what was folded there.

  It was of sapphire-blue silk, trimmed with rich frills of white lace and soft white satin ribbons at the low neckline and the hem. It was sumptuously cut and shimmered like a starry winter's night. Even the trepidation of meeting Lady Kirkwood in the library was nothing against its beauty.

  Allison spread the glory of it over her lap, and stroked the delicate cloth with a gentle hand. She could hardly wait until William saw her in it.

  **

  “So we are finally alone,” William said, cornering Allison for a quick kiss outside the library door.

  Allison laughed, kissing him back. “Was sharing a hymnal in church not enough for you?” she teased.

  “Not one little bit.” He kissed her again, swiftly and tenderly, holding her close. “What do you suppose Lady Kirkwood wants to talk to us about?”

  “Maybe she wants to tell us we won her scavenger hunt? Or maybe she wants to know what your intentions are toward me?” Allison's voice was light, but deep inside she was a bit worried herself. She'd had very little private conversation with Lady Kirkwood, and to now be summoned to see her in the library seemed a bit strange. Unless it was about the end of the game. “But we'll never know if we don't go in.”