Page 76 of The Duke's Wicked Widow
She was tapping the pencil against her lower lip when she heard a dog barking out in the hallway, and a deep voice responding, although she couldn’t make out the words. Ellie glanced at the clock. Two—two hours had passed?
She hurried to gather together the papers and clippings, so Fawkes wouldn’t guess how messy she really was. When Merida burst through the door, Ellie spread her fingers across the pile, as if that would help.
But the delight on the girl’s face distracted her.
“Ellie! Look, look, Fawkes let me choose the pies for dinner and I chose the biggest ones! He says I can help him! It’s going to be so good! I'm not spoiled anymore!”
Fawkes was backing through the door, his arms full of packages and Tramp tugging at his leash, wrapped around the man’s wrist.
Ellie rushed to his side. “Here, Tramp, be still—ooh!” She almost fell over from the dog’s enthusiastic greeting, but managed to untangle the leash from Fawkes’s hold.
“My thanks,” he murmured, kicking the door closed behind them. “Let me put these down—”
“No, no, you should get warmed up. Merida, hang your coat, please!” Ellie was crouched, trying to untie Tramp. “I will get some tea started.”
“You know what’sbetterthan tea for warming me up when I’ve been outside playing?” Merida hinted slyly. “Hot chocolate!”
Ellie glanced at Fawkes, who was already shaking his head. “Sorry, sprite, I have tea and coffee. Never developed a taste for chocolate—my mother loves it, though.”
Dramatically, the girl mimed stabbing herself in her chest. “Uuurgh! A life without chocolate! And to think, I used tolikeyou, Fawkes.”
Ellie bustled into the kitchen, filling the kettle as she’d seen Fawkes do, crossing to heat it on the stove. She didn’t bother hiding her smile at their banter, but in an old habit, kept her imperfect teeth covered.
“Ye should ask Father Christmas for some chocolate, eh?”
At Fawkes’s casual comment, Ellie swung about, prepared to remind him that she didn’t even know where they’d be living at Christmas, much less if she could provide anything magical for the girl. Aye, there were a few gifts she knew would be among her things, but…
Merida had already lit up. “I know Father Christmas! Ellie told me all about him! She said he sneaks into houses and leaves gifts for good girls, but he’s never visited me.”
Fawkes was unwrapping their purchases as he raised a brow at the girl. “Really?”
“Ellie married my Papa in January, and shepromisedme this year she’d show me how toreallycelebrate Christmas. Last year I just got extra pudding in the nursery, since Nurse thought I’d been a good girl, and my Papa sent up a new book as a gift.”
Fawkes glanced at Ellie. “What a…nice gift. For a little girl. Who enjoys tromping in the snow and running and jumping and such things.”
Ellie had to agree. “Rufus liked books,” she offered softly, not defending, more explaining her dead husband.
Itwasa shame Merida hadn’t experienced the magic of the holiday season, and yes, she’d promised the girl that this year they would. But…
“I suppose it’ll be hard to have a tree and presents and chocolate if we don’t have any place to live, huh?” the girl suddenly blurted, plopping down on the floor beside Tramp, stroking the tired pup’s ears. “Father Christmas won’t know where to find me.”
Ellie was already moving toward her. She squatted beside Merida. “He will find you, sweetheart. I swear it.” The gifts might be simple, but she had more than a week to plan. She would find a way to bring this sweet girl some Christmas cheer.
“Aye, Merida, buck up,” said Fawkes, without looking up from his task. “Ye’ll have a Christmas, eh? How does yer stepmother usually celebrate?”
The question startled Ellie and she glanced at his back, then down to Merida, who had bounced from despondent to excited once more.
“What didyoudo for Christmas, Ellie? When you were a little girl?”
Glad to see Merida feeling better, Ellie rose and busied herself with the tea once more. It was surprisingly easy to answer the questions. She wouldn’t have expected toenjoytalking about the somber, quiet “celebrations” of her father’s house…but she didn’t mind it quite so much.
“Sounds a wee bit formal,” Fawkes said at one point, and Ellie had to agree.
“Formalandboring,” Merida added, and Ellie burst into chuckles.
When she glanced up, her fingertips pressed against her upper lip, it was to see him staring at her hidden smile withsomethingin his eyes she couldn’t identify.
The day passed quietly; preparing meals, walking Tramp, talking about the upcoming holiday. The snow stopped, and Fawkes told them about Scottish Christmas traditions; the Yule log, the raucous celebrations, the stories and legends. Merida was enthralled.
