After a burst of cheers and dried flower petals from the congregation (which barely filled the first pew, being comprised only of the other houseguests), the vicar lost no time expelling them from the church. Jonathan couldn’t fault the chap, having seen how Rachael had manhandled him—and in lieu of his customary tip, left a large donation on the way out.
Back at the castle, it was time for Christmas dinner—which would also serve as the wedding breakfast. And though they had mulled wine for champagne and Christmas pudding for wedding cake, Jonathan could not have conceived of a better one. The feast itself was magnificent (especially the dressed breast of lamb). But it was the atmosphere that truly filled him up. Everybody gathered round the table, loud and merry, laughing and bickering…it was exactly what he’d never had, growing up alone with maman.
In the process of gaining Claire as his wife, he reflected, contentedly gazing round the table, he had also gained this. A new family—big, boisterous, and loving as even the loneliest little boy could wish.
It was almost enough to make up for the mother he’d lost.
Eighteen
After dinner, they removed to the drawing room for the exchange of Christmas gifts. Everyone seated themselves to await the guest of honor, who soon toddled in wearing a gown of frothy lace and holding tight to her nursemaid’s hand.
At a year and one half, little Georgiana had Rachael’s dark curls and Griffin’s leaf-green eyes, which were just then wide open and staring round at all the people come to dote and shower gifts upon her. With her mother’s intrepidity, she stood her ground against the onslaught. And with just a little instruction, she got the trick of ripping open her parcels—the contents of which were sadly no match for the delights of plain brown paper and string.
Only after the child had finished and returned to the nursery did the adults have their turn. First came the gifts Claire had made for the gentlemen, who each received a handsome enameled watch fob. For the ladies, Noah had chosen Paisley shawls, and after unwrapping them with praise for his good taste, they immediately began to speculate upon the identity of the woman who must have aided him.
Sadly, this diverting topic was cut short by Lady Caroline fleeing in tears.
While the ladies exchanged guilty looks, chivalry came from an unlikely quarter: the always affable—and almost always thoughtless—Captain Talbot. Perhaps moved by the Christmas spirit (or just bored, having blown through all his gifts in one rapacious frenzy), the captain went gallantly to her aid. The gesture earned him near-universal acclaim, and brought Jonathan to feel he’d misjudged the fellow.
But one among them did not look on Talbot’s exit with approval: Poor Elizabeth watched the proceeding with an expression of shock and dismay. Seeing this, Jonathan nudged Claire, who promptly distracted her sister by demanding she open Claire’s gift.
The little velvet bag was duly opened, and Elizabeth looked pleased to find within a delicate silver pendant in the shape of a heart, studded with diamonds and entwined with a rose formed of a gleaming pink metal.
“What sort of metal is this?” Elizabeth asked. “I don’t think I’ve seen it before.”
“Indeed, you haven’t,” Claire said proudly. “It’s a new alloy called Russian gold. One mixes gold and copper to get the rosy color.”
Elizabeth admired its tones against her skin. “Lovely!” she declared.
“May I see?” Jonathan ventured to ask. Though he’d felt no hostility from her this morning, he’d maintained a cautious distance thus far.
To his relief, her answer was perfectly friendly. “If you’ll help me put it on afterward!”
“I’d be delighted.” They shared a smile as the piece exchanged hands, and he wondered whether he’d imagined her standoffishness last night.
Between misunderstanding both her and Talbot, it seemed his judgement had become rather unreliable.
“Exquisite,” he concluded after examining the pendant, favoring Claire with a doting look. “And quite fitting, too, given Elizabeth’s love of flowers.”
“Oh, I despise roses,” Elizabeth said cheerfully, turning round to present her neck. “So difficult to press!”
Jonathan cleared his throat as he fastened the chain. “Never mind,” he said, “it looks beautiful on you.”
“It does,” came Elizabeth’s muffled reply, for she’d ducked her chin to see for herself, “despite the evil rose! Thank you, Claire.”
Claire rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Happy Christmas!”
“My turn next.” Rummaging amid his pile for Claire’s gift, Jonathan came up with it triumphantly. “I think I’ll open this one!”
“Oh!” Claire bit her lip. “Right! Before you do, however, that’s not your real gift. That is—it is a gift, and it is for you, but—um—well, to tell you the truth, it’s your gift from last year. I’m so sorry! I know it’s a poor excuse, but I only learned you were coming at the eleventh hour, so I was quite short of time?—”
“Claire,” he interrupted, using the growl he’d noticed was quite effective at silencing her. “It’s fine. May I open it now?”
The wrappings concealed a large tome with a burnished leather cover. Its only ornament was an unusual silver book clasp. Embellished with an overlay of gold-wrought feathers, the clasp had the shape of a bird with a very long tail.
“Venus’s peacock?” Jonathan touched the finely etched feathers. “Did you make this?”
She nodded.
