Page 63 of Snowbound Regency Christmas
‘Yup,’ Lizzy said with jam on her cheeks.
‘And very lonely without your dolly.’
Lizzy stuck out her lower lip and nodded.
Julia pulled the doll she had made from her pocket and gave it to the little girl. ‘I thought that you could keep Molly company. She’s been lonely too.’
The little girl held the doll with awe-like reverence. ‘Molly’s bootiful.’
‘I made her myself, just for you.’
Mrs Mack placed a gentle hand on Julia’s shoulder. ‘You are too kind, Mrs Ballantine. I am deeply touched.’
Blushing, Julia always felt a little awkward accepting compliments. ‘Well, it is Christmas Eve after all,’ she said brusquely. ‘And we have a supper feast to prepare.’
Julia had displayed all of her cooking skills at breakfast. Happily, Mrs Mack was the youngest daughter of a vicar and had often helped prepare dinner at home. She took charge and Julia was relieved to follow her lead. Julia chopped vegetables and stirred sauces. While slicing and dicing, she couldn’t help but think that perhaps she had been rather spoiled for the first eighteen years of her life. Julia hadn’t been able to make a pot of tea or do the smallest of menial tasks. Such things had never been required of her. Despite the loneliness and heartache of the last three years, Julia was grateful that she’d learned how to take care of a house, cook a meal and dress herself. No matter what the future held for her, she was capable of adapting. If only she didn’t miss Amelia and her stepmother so much! If only Papa would have allowed them to write to her.
She put down her knife and set the table in the taproom. Julia wondered what her sister was doing right now to celebrate Christmas Eve.
She sighed loudly.
A familiar deep voice from behind her said, ‘Surely you are too young for such sighs.’
Julia spun around to see Devin. He had changed and freshened up and looked handsomer than ever. She was still wearing an apron and her hair was falling out of its plait. Conscious of her harried appearance, Julia touched the side of her head.
Devin walked closer to her until the tips of his shoes brushed the hem of her gown. ‘What was the sigh for, fair Julia?’
Her hand moved to her neck, which felt very hot. ‘It’s silly, really.’
‘Tell me.’
She didn’t wish to mention her family, so Julia jerkily gestured to the plain table. ‘It doesn’t look very Christmassy.’
Devin nodded. ‘I agree. How would you like me to remedy that?’
Again, he was asking how she wanted him to help her. It was flattering and a bit staggering. Awkwardly, she wrapped her arms around herself. ‘I can’t ask you to go back out into the cold for evergreen boughs and pine cones.’
He winked at her. ‘You didn’t ask me.Iasked you.’
Then she watched him fetch his overcoat and return out into the cold air of December. She didn’t know what to make of it. Or of him. Nor did she know what to say when he returned a quarter of an hour later with evergreen clippings and asked Julia to arrange them on the table however she liked. And she did. The greenery and pine cones brought cheer to the barren table—all it needed now was crimson ribbons.
‘What can I fetch you?’ Devin asked, as if he’d realised that Julia was not yet content with their Christmas spread.
‘I was only going to get some red ribbon from my sewing kit upstairs.’
‘I’ll get it for you,’ he insisted. ‘I need to put my overcoat away.’
While she waited, Julia helped Mrs Mack bring the tureens and covered dishes to the table. Her heart was behaving most strangely and fluttering in a most unnatural way. Devin returned with her spool of crimson ribbon and Julia was grateful that she was still wearing her mother’s chatelaine so that she could easily trim the ribbons. Devin did not offer to help this time, but watched her tie bows onto the boughs as if it were the most fascinating thing that he had ever seen. She felt her colour rise but felt absurdly pleased by it. And when they sat down for dinner with the other assorted passengers, the driver, and Mr Peebles, she pressed her leg against Devin’s.
Not only to tease but because she felt warm and protected when they touched. After they had finished their hearty meal and the men had washed up, Julia found herself by Devin’s side as the ill-assorted group sang Christmas carols. His voice was deep and low and entirely masculine. It caused her skin to tingle and the hairs on the back of her neck to stand up.
Mr Peebles left for a few minutes and then brought back a fiddle and began to play it. Mr Mack picked up his daughter and danced with her. Perhaps Julia had been over-harsh when she’d judged him. Mr Denard asked Mrs Mack to dance and they joined the jig. Julia grabbed Devin’s hand before Mr Rhys or Mr Pip got any ideas. She tugged him to the dance floor and with one twirl, he pulled her into his arms. Her breath caught and every bit of her body was aware of him from her hair to her toes. Devin’s handsomeness. His strength. His acts of kindness that afternoon.
Dancing with Devin was entirely different than dancing with Joshua. His elder brother was a refined dancer and a good partner. Joshua made you feel relaxed in his company, like he was a friend from the very beginning of your acquaintance. He was the sort of person who you felt as if you could confide anything to. She’d first noticed Joshua at church when she was scarcely more than a child. He’d been twenty-nine to her scarce twelve years, but he had bowed to her as if she were a lady and an adult. Julia’s younger self had fallen in love with theideaof him and six years later when her father had arranged the marriage with their neighbour, Baron Ballantine, she had not said no.
Devin must have been at school, for she had no memories of him at church. Or of having met him before that disastrous night three years ago. He was only five years older than herself and handsome enough for any girl to fall in love with. As he brought her closer to him, Julia half wondered what would have happened if only she had met Devin first. Or if her father had attempted to make a match with him rather than Joshua. How different everything might have been.
Chapter Eight
