They had reached the breakfast room, and Callum stood back for Miss Rothwell to enter, aware of James trailing behind them. He did not turn around to see whether the fellow was watching and listening.
Several guests had arrived since his brief exit, and Mother sat at a table with Lord and Lady Bronham, Lord Chesterford and Lady Millicent. His mother caught his eye and Callum knew that she was about to wave him over to take the empty seat at their table, but he evaded her and swiftly gestured Miss Rothwell to a seat at the table in front of them.
“Miss Rothwell?”
“Thank you,” she replied, sitting in the chair he indicated. Callum sat opposite her and let out a relieved breath as James took a seat at the other table. He poured tea for Miss Rothwell, then for himself. She seemed quiet and he was content simply to gaze at her. Her lovely soft hair glowed in the light from the fire and she gazed out of the window, her hazel eyes slightly unfocused. She looked relaxed but lost in thought—an expression that became her well.
“Did you see the coaches? I do wonder what we shall do today!” Miss Georgina Rothwell commented brightly. She and her sister, along with Harriet, appeared at their table and sat down hurriedly.
“A coach ride, I expect,” Isabel said seriously. Callum chuckled.
“Well said,” he replied.
“It’s the St. Stephen’s Day hampers,” Harriet related excitedly. “We’re going to go and give them out, are we not, brother?”
“Yes. We shall,” he assured them.
A few minutes later, Mother stood and made the announcement to the guests. The news brought a hush of focus to the diners, who seemed in a hurry to eat so that they could go outside and take part in the new activity.
When the guests began to drift from the room, heading downstairs, Callum stood and walked with Miss Rothwell. He glanced over his shoulder, glaring hard at James, but he was laughing with his cousin, an affable smile on his face, and did not seem to be staring after them.
“How will we take so many people—along with all the hampers—to the village?” Miss Rothwell asked Callum as he shrugged on his greatcoat. He smiled.
“Mr Morton shall follow behind us with a cart. Most of the gifts will be in that.”
Miss Rothwell looked pleased. “Your family is most generous at Christmas,” she remarked as they walked down the front steps. The remaining boxes were being loaded up into the cart as they passed by. Callum smiled.
“Thank you,” he said softly. He hesitated to tell her that there had been years when they had been so poor, due to repaying the debts, that they had been unable to dispense charity. He suspected that was the reason why his family outdid themselves with the St. Stephen’s Day hampers—it was, in part, a celebration for them of their restored wealth. They were sufficiently wealthy to be able to give gifts again.
“Can you see my sisters?” she asked him, gazing over the milling guests. Callum spotted them patting the coach-horses harnessed to the big Landau, and he grinned, inclining his head to indicate where they were.
Miss Rothwell wandered over to the coach. Callum followed at a deliberate pace, unwilling to let her out of his sight. He was resolved to be in the same coach as she. James and Phillipa wereabout to alight into a coach and he looked away, bowing to Miss Rothwell.
“Might I help you in?” he asked.
“Oh! Yes. Please,” she said, holding out her gloved hand. Her sisters shrieked in delight.
“Are we to go in this one?” Georgina asked him excitedly.
“Oh! How grand!” Isabel exclaimed, her usually quiet mood lightened by the apparently exciting prospect.
Callum inclined his head. “As you wish,” he said smoothly.
The cover had been removed from the Landau, and it afforded unparalleled views of the snowy landscape.
He helped them up, then swung up behind them. He was not surprised to see Mr Rothwell and Harriet rushing to join them. Mr Rothwell helped Harriet into the coach. Laughing, she budged onto the seat beside Callum, pushing him against Miss Rothwell, who sat beside him.
“How diverting!” she said, a big grin on her face. Callum laughed.
“My legs might disagree with you,” he told her with a grimace. “You leave them no room.”
Opposite them in the coach, the two younger Miss Rothwells chuckled. The carriage was unusually cramped, with barely enough space for six passengers and the driver, adding a touch of levity to the situation.
“Well, then,” Mr Rothwell declared, clambering up into the groom’s seat at the back of the coach. “We can set off!”
Callum turned to squint up at him with some annoyance. Guests would not usually sit on the rear seat, which was uncomfortable and little better than balancing on the running-board of a normal coach. Mr Rothwell was grinning serenely and Callum wanted to laugh when he guessed that it was because he wanted to be close to Harriet.
The driver climbed up onto his seat and they set off.
