“Another Christmas Alone,” She Thought — Until a Duke’s Carriage Broke Down at Her Gate
Chapter 7
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"I believe I am equal to the challenge.""Your mother would be horrified.""Then we must ensure she never hears of it."Rosamond smiled. They entered the kitchen together. She set the kettle on the stove while Julian placed the cups beside the sink. For a moment, neither spoke: the fire crackled; snow whispered against the window.Then Julian said, "You have made a difficult evening remarkably pleasant."Rosamond looked at him. "I have done very little.""You welcomed three strangers into your home.""Four, if one counts your horses. Five, if one counts the carriage.""The carriage is not welcome. It has damaged your gate."He laughed softly. "Then I shall arrange for its apology.""I should prefer a new latch.""You shall have one."His tone was so immediate that she turned toward him. "Your Grace, I was teasing.""I know.""Then you need not—""Miss Fairchild, my carriage damaged your property. I shall see it repaired."There was no grandness in his voice, no expectation that she should be grateful—only a simple acknowledgement of responsibility. Rosamond found herself unexpectedly pleased."Very well," she said. "I accept your offer.""Excellent.""But I must insist that you do not send some unfortunate workman in the middle of a blizzard.""I shall attempt to restrain myself."She smiled. Then the smile faded slightly.Julian noticed. "Is something wrong?""No." She looked toward the window. "Only that I had expected a rather different Christmas Eve.""Were you expecting guests?""No."The word came out more quietly than she intended. Julian waited.Rosamond folded a dishcloth. "I used to spend Christmas with my aunt. She raised me after my parents died. She was the sort of woman who could make a cold room feel warm merely by entering it.""She sounds extraordinary.""She was." Rosamond smoothed the cloth. "She died three winters ago.""I am sorry.""Thank you."He did not offer an easy consolation; he did not tell her that time healed everything. Rosamond was grateful.Instead, Julian looked around the kitchen. "I imagine she would have approved of tonight."Rosamond glanced at him. "Why?""Because you have filled her house with strangers, fed them generously, and laughed at a man's misfortune."A surprised laugh escaped her. "She would have approved of the first two.""And the third?""She would have encouraged it."Julian smiled.Rosamond looked down. "I suppose she would." Then, very softly, she added, "I have missed the sound of laughter here."Julian felt something tighten in his chest. He understood that particular loneliness—the kind that did not disappear simply because one had company, the kind that followed a person through crowded rooms and settled beside them at dinner."Miss Fairchild," he said, "may I tell you something?"She looked up. "Of course.""I was not looking forward to Christmas."