Page 36 of Married By Twelfth Night
“Really.”
Grace groaned and not quietly either. There was no reason to put on airs here. She had hoped for a quiet visit with Bridget and absolutely no time in Richard’s company. “I suppose I can stay a few minutes longer, but I really ought to return to my parents . . . to . . . help choose . . . the soup.”
“The soup?” Bridget looked disbelieving.
“For dinner.”
“Not fair,” Richard said, coming into the room. “My excuse was legitimate, and I’m not allowed out of this craft business. You’re clearly lying, so you should have to stay even longer than I do.”
Her ability to think of clever plans was waning. Richard’s presence was clouding her thoughts. Relenting, she leaned back into her seat. “I just remembered. My mother always chooses the soup. What craft are we doing, and how can I help?”
“I love your attitude,” Richard said.
“Yes, thank you, Grace. I expect the same commitment from you, brother.”
Richard gave a grave nod. “I can do anything Gracecan do.”
“Good,” Bridget said. “Because we are making mistletoe kissing boughs.”
Grace’s gaze flashed to Richard’s. He met it with a look of incredulousness that surely matched her own. What on earth had they just agreed to?
“It will likely take a few days.” Bridget stood and started ticking items off her fingers. “We must find baskets and ribbons, cut pine and holly branches, and of course, find ourselves some mistletoe.”
“How many are we making?” Richard hedged.
Bridget squinted, as if thinking carefully. “I daresay we’ll need at least a dozen.”
“A dozen?” It was Richard’s turn to choke and cough. “What would we do with a dozen kissing boughs?”
Thankfully, he didn’t meet Grace’s eye this time. She would have melted into the cushions beneath her.
Bridget laughed. “They aren’t for us. We’ll keep one and gift the others. If I remember correctly from last year, they should stay fresh for two whole weeks. We can deliver them on Christmas Eve when everyone begins to decorate.”
“Just what we need,” Richard said with a small huff. “For the whole town to turn into a kissing fest.”
“What a romantic notion.” Bridget’s sigh was full of wistfulness. “I thought you were a lost cause, Richard, but you’re redeeming yourself quite well.”
She knew Bridget was jesting, and not only that, she was scheming too. How could Grace turn this to work in her favor? She couldn’t continue to spend so much time with Richard and keep herself sane. Besides, she had agreed to support his goals too. She cleared her throat. “It sounds like a great deal of work.” Grace folded her hands primly in her lap, hopefully looking extremely innocent.
“Oh, yes,” Bridget insisted. “It will take long hours together.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Grace said. “I vote we include Ruth to help us.”
“Ruth?” Bridget scowled. She leaned toward Grace and hissed, “What are you trying to do?”
She kept her face passive. “Nothing. We established this is a large project, and Ruth has an artistic eye.”
“What a brilliant idea,” Richard said, smiling gratefully at her. “Ruth will make an excellent addition.”
Grace relaxed as she had not done since Richard entered the room. Nothing had been normal between them since the beginning of December, but with a little ingenuity, their plans could still work.
Chapter 15
Richard’s mouth formed agrim line as he studied the papers in his hand, the numbers burning holes behind his eyes.
“They won’t change no matter how long you stare at them.”
Richard looked up at Mr. Bowers, his new solicitor. He had thin brown hair, sharp but compassionate eyes, and an unpretentious but tidy suit of clothes. Richard had hired him after Father’s death. Father’s solicitor was old enough to be a gnarled tree in a different century, and his memory issues had caused a number of drastic problems for the estate. Mr. Bowers had done his best with what they had left, but their latest investment had not produced the desired results fast enough.
