Page 26 of A Christmas Miracle for the Frosty Marquess
Clara nodded, glancing at Julian. His eyes were wide, and she thought that his face looked a bit pale, despite having been red from the cold just moments before. But he nodded to his sister, then gave Clara a small smile. Clara tried to ignore the sinking of her heart. Was Julian simply not enjoying her company? Or was there something else bothering him that he was struggling to overcome?
Clara tried to keep her focus on the task, but being partnered with Julian was proving to be a distraction. The air around him seemed to crackle with an energy she couldn’t define. He stayed quiet, avoiding her gaze deliberately. But each time their hands met, intentionally or not, a warmth surged through her, leaving her fingers tingling.
She glanced up to find him studying a holly sprig intently, his ice blue eyes cold yet shimmering, reminiscent of a winter’s morning. That frosty demeanor, which seemed more pronounced since their morning of berry picking, stood in stark contrast to the tenderness she felt every time their fingers brushed.
“Be careful with these,” Julian said, disrupting her daydreaming as he pointed to the sharp holly edges. “They prick quite easily.”
Clara nodded, not bothering to remind Julian that she had helped gather the pointy leafed plants.
“Thank you, Julian,” she said. “I’ll be cautious.”
Julian looked at her again at last, and some of the ice melted from his gaze. He looked like there was something he wanted to say for a moment, but he changed his mind as he returned his attention back to the holly he had been handling. Another moment later, Clara reached for the ribbons, only to be met with the sight of Julian doing the same.
Their hands met again, and she felt him linger for a moment longer than necessary. His fingers were warm, a contradiction to his outward coldness. And yet, beneath that facade, she was certain there was something more awaiting discovery.
“Julian,” she said, trying to find her voice. “I do hope I am not intruding by joining you and your family today.”
He looked up, his blue eyes locking onto hers. He seemed to wrestle with something, and Clara wished for a peek at his thoughts. Every second he paused felt as though it lasted a day, but Clara forced herself to keep calm. At last, he shrugged.
“It’s all right,” he said softly, with a tone that was unconvincing to Clara. “Elizabeth invited you to do so. It caught me off guard, that is all. I would have expected no less than for you to accept the invitation.”
Clara blinked, unsure what to say. His words said there was no trouble, but his tone spoke to the contrary. She knew he had been different since his mother died. But it frustrated her that she couldn’t read him even a little.
“I am having a lovely time,” she said, trying to keep the conversation going.
Julian, however, was clearly not in the mood for more chatter. He simply gave her another small smile and a nod, grabbing the ribbons he had been reaching for moments prior and getting back to work without another word. Taking the hint, she took her own ribbons and threw herself back into the task.
They worked in harmony for the next hour, their fingers moving deftly, weaving the holly and ivy into a beautiful, grand wreath. With each twist and turn, she thought about Julian’s disposition. As standoffish as he continued to be, she could not deny his cordiality.
On its own, it wouldn’t amount to much, apart from the societal expectation for politeness when one was entertaining guests. But with the sparks she felt when their hands touched, and his occasional flickers of warmth and brief smiles, it was worth noting to her. Still, not knowing what Julian was thinking was setting Clara on edge. It felt good to be working with her hands right then. She felt that her thoughts might drive her mad, were she not.
The first time she noticed Julian watching her with a pensive eye, she thought it was a fluke. She thought he might have merely glanced up in search of some of the supplies. She still offered him a warm smile, but he looked away at once, suddenly extremely focused on his parts of the wreath. However, when the back of her neck prickled, she risked a hooded glance in his direction again. And once more, he was looking at her with the same expression on his face.
She held her breath, praying that Julian would engage her in conversation. He never said anything, but he continued stealing those glances at her. Her heart raced as she noticed some of the frostiness vanish from his gaze. Was it possible that she was making progress in warming Julian up to her, after all?
“That looks beautiful, Julian,” she said, testing her luck.
Julian, pretending he had been concentrating on his work the entire time, gave her one of the first genuine, albeit brief, smiles she had seen in ages.
“Likewise, Clara,” he said. “I was never quite as skilled as Elizabeth at this kind of thing. But it seems that you are.”
Clara blushed, grateful for the compliment, even though he spoke more out of politeness than sincerity.
“You’re very kind,” she said.
Silence fell between them again, but Clara was determined not to give up. Trying to bridge the distance that seemed to always lie between them, Clara began recounting anecdotes of past Christmases.
“I remember one year, my siblings and I made it our mission to stay up and spy on our parents while they prepared our gifts,” she said with a soft laugh, her eyes distant, lost in the memory. “We never saw a thing, of course. But the thrill of the chase was the real gift.”
Julian’s face betrayed a hint of amusement, but he remained silent.
Undeterred, and slightly encouraged by the flicker of a smile in his eyes, she continued.
“Then there was the time when everything seemed to go wrong,” she said. “The turkey was overcooked, the pudding refused to light, and to top it all off, our tree came crashing down right in the middle of Christmas carols. Mother and Father were frantic, and we were no help. We were only interested in the gifts, as ever.”
A smile played on Julian’s lips, but his bright blue eyes remained unreadable.
“Christmas certainly has its moments, doesn’t it?” he asked.
