Chapter Nineteen
By mid-afternoon, Julian was seriously worried. The riders from the estate had gone out earlier and returned with news that the road leading back to Midway was empty of all traffic. While the roads were wet and muddy, they were still passable. Yet no other guests had arrived.
A welcome supper had been arranged for the first night. It was set out as an opportunity for the guests to mingle informally after their long journey from London. The castle kitchen had been as busy as a beehive since the early hours, baking small pies and cakes for the expected arrivals.
He puffed out his cheeks. His reluctance over hosting the house party had been replaced by a burning desire for it to be an outstanding success. Sourcing a bride from the guest list was part of his motivation for agreeing to have the party; the other was to establish new friendships.
He lacked real friends among the members of theton, something he had felt keenly since returning to England. As an only child, without a mother to actively support the development of his social connections, he had grown up with few friends. Most people he knew were merely acquaintances.
He was about to host a week-long party with a house full of strangers which would normally have filled him with dread. Yet as the hours passed and no other guests arrived, he found himself privately fretting.
“The invitations were clear about the party kicking off today? Excuse my questioning but I just want to check my understanding,” he said.
Julian was standing in the upstairs drawing room, a space he and Lady Margaret had reserved as off limits to their guests for the duration of the house party. It was somewhere for them to gather at the end of each day and decide how well things were going, and what, if any, changes were required for the following day’s entertainments.
Lady Margaret held open her diary. The date was clearly marked as being the start of the house party. He knew she would not make such a simple mistake, but he could not help his rising anxiety.
“And you and the countess were clear on when the party was to take place?” he added.
She nodded. “Very clear. In fact, I was with her when she wrote the last of the invitations. Since I don’t particularly trust your mother, I made a point of checking all her notes.”
Julian strode over to the window and looked outside. Caroline, her brother, and cousin were walking the snow-covered grounds. He smiled as he saw James fashion a large snowball and toss it in the direction of Francis.
It hit Francis square in the back. He turned, and Julian caught the look of indignation on his face.
Francis took off his hat and handed it to Caroline. She pointed a finger at James. Julian couldn’t hear what they were saying but it was clear the challenge had been accepted. A snowball fight was looming.
Lady Margaret came to his side and looked out the window. “Why don’t you go outside and spend time with the guests who are here? I am sure the rest of them will start to arrive shortly.”
Julian hurried downstairs and put on his long winter coat, a hat, and warm leather gloves. Midas followed him out of the house.
Outside, he stopped and paused for a moment. While he was eager to join the frivolities, he wasn’t sure how he should step into the game. He was an outsider in his own home.
Midas had no such reservations and bounded over to Caroline, barking loudly in welcome.
Stepping onto the snow-covered grass, Julian headed toward where Caroline stood, still holding Francis’s hat. She was in neutral territory from what he could ascertain. Beside her, Midas was watching the fight with wide eyes.
“Ah, Julian. Welcome to the box seat for the next round in the never-ending snowball fight between Francis and James,” she said.
“Never-ending?” he replied.
A large snowball landed in the middle of James’s chest, and he staggered back as if he had been shot. Francis bellowed with laughter. Midas barked.
“Yes. This started in Scotland many years ago. Neither has ever called time on the battle. It’s not quite the Hundred Years War, but I think they intend it to get close,” she said.
“Oh!”
The sickening sound of Francis taking a snowball to the side of his face had them both wincing. Even James paused for a moment, but within seconds was back hurriedly scooping up snow in his hands and making the next of his deadly missiles.
“It must be nice to have such a close family,” said Julian. He was about to add a further remark about how much fun they must have when his vision was suddenly blacked-out. A snowball had hit him square in the face. Midas growled, but stayed by Caroline’s side.
“No! You can’t attack our host!” cried Caroline.
The evil laughter that emanated from both Francis and James told Julian they thought otherwise.
“Righto. If the two of you wish to play that way, you shall reap what you sow,” she said.
Julian had just finished wiping the snow from his face when, to his surprise and secret delight, he saw Caroline unceremoniously drop Francis’s hat to the ground before bending down and scooping up a sizeable handful of snow. With her one good hand, she tossed it into the air several times, crushing it into a snowball as she caught it.
