Page 9 of Bella’s Christmas Wish

Roald inspected a shoe. He rubbed at an invisible mark. “It is nothing compared to Austria. The countryside is very tame. No sweeping views. Where are the snowcapped mountains? Does one ski here?”

Friedrich grinned. “No skiing, but it has its charms.” He thought of one in particular, Miss Leeming, pleased to spend time with her.

At five o’clock, after spending his time reading, Friedrich left his chamber and made his way downstairs, wondering if she could meet him. Her sister may well put a stop to it, and he quite understood why. He was a foreigner, and for all intents and purposes, a stranger.

In the entry hall, a footman hurried to open the front door for him.

Friedrich stepped from the marble porch amid six towering Greek columns, which supported a pediment in the classical style, onto the gravel drive. She was not here.

The door behind him opened, and she emerged dressed in a muslin gown with a blue spencer, her lovely hair covered by a velvet bonnet lined with blue silk. She was a picture. Her sweet lips lifted in a smile.

At that moment, he felt a throb near his heart. What was this? He had hoped for the chance to enjoy the company of a pretty girl. But was it fast becoming something more?

Friedrich offered her his arm. “I am in your hands, Miss Leeming.”

They walked along the garden paths leading to the ornamental lake. The gardens, pared back by the winter frost, revealed their clever design. “How beautiful it must be here in autumn and spring,” he said, holding back the branch of a tall glossy camelia for her to pass along the narrow path.

“It is. But it also has a charm in winter, does it not?”

He nodded.

“Tell me more about Vienna. Are there lovely gardens? I know very little.”

“Indeed there are. We grow wonderful roses in Vienna.”

Steps led them down through a series of terraces. “Is that a folly I spy near the water?”

“A gazebo,” she said.

“Shall we go down?”

“Oh yes. You must see it.” They descended the steps to the pale icy waters of the lake.

“Do you skate here?” he asked.

“No.”

“In Vienna, we skate on the ponds every winter.” He took her hand to lead her up the few steps to the gazebo, which was of painted wood with a shingle roof. The sides were open, but inside was furnished with a round table with a small sofa. They sat to watch the hardy ducks squabbling noisily together.

“A delightful scene,” he said. “Now I must tell you about Vienna. I shall begin with an unarguable fact. It is a beautiful city, far more so than your London.”

She wrinkled her nose. “That is most ungracious.” Her eyes were alight with laughter. “Naturally, you would prefer your home to ours.”

He chuckled. “Allow me to explain my reason for that statement.”

“After which, you must allow me to praise London’s attractions. Hyde Park and Green Park, for instance.”

How appealing was her smile. His gaze settled on her mouth. His wish before he left was to kiss her, to have that memory. If he settled a hand around her waist and pulled her to him…

“But of course, that is most fair. And I’m a reasonable fellow.”

As if she saw the desire which must be obvious in his eyes, her eyelids flickered, and she swallowed. “But I have only your word for it,” she said in a low voice.

He resisted the impulse and sat back. “Miss Leeming…”

“Bella, please.”

“I like the name, it suits you.” He took her hand and kissed each finger. “These delicate fingers produce the sweetest music.”

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