Clara scoffed. “I have known you forever, Luke. You cannot pretend like I haven’t, and not once have I seen you happy to be socializing.” But though she could not fathom how, Luke did look genuinely pleased.
“What are you two going on about?” John asked as he entered the foyer. Clara's mother and brother had stayed at Maxwell Manor to see the wedding that took place in the beautiful Harleston chapel. Afterwards, Luke convinced them to linger until Christmas. “What are you doing out here? Aren’t you supposed to be greeting your guests?” The earl was still a bit too stoic for Clara’s liking. The old John would have teased them, not chastised them, but he had experienced a great change as of late. Perhaps he just needed more time to return to his silly ways.
“Luke is trying to convince me he is excited for the party,” Clara said in disbelief.
“Well that cannot be right,” John agreed with his sister, “Luke hates parties.”
“Not this one,” Luke argued back as he gestured to the footman to open the door.
Clara had outdone herself with the ballroom decorations. The place was festive and bright. Harleston residents filled the space dancing, eating, and wishing each other a happy Christmas. Once again, the furniture had been replaced with small floor cushions, and the air was filled with festive scents and cheerful music. Candles and a large Christmas fire warmed the scene, and on the arm of the man she loved, it was all better than Clara could have ever imagined.
And Luke did seem to be enjoying himself. He was not as social as his wife, but he cared for his tenants, and it showed. He did not talk much, but he was an amazing and attentive listener. The Maxwells had both grown since their last party together. Luke had become less afraid of the people around him, and Clara had learned to be more open to solitude. Their personalities no longer seemed like opposites. Their complimentary talents boosted one another, and helped them flourish in their responsibilities.
After several hours of chatting and dancing and a few kisses under the mistletoe, Luke and Clara quieted the crowd. “I have a story I wish to share with you,” the baroness announced, turning to the page in the family bible. It wasdefinitely sad, not having Papa there to tell the Christmas tale, but still the peace of the message filled the room. Luke put his arm around his wife as she read, and when she finished, he surprised her with a special gift.
“I would like to end the night,” he announced to the audience, “with a song.”
Clara’s face filled with excitement. “Are you going to singJoy to the World?” she asked, nearly jumping with anticipation.
“Actually,” Luke answered in a whisper. “I thought I would play it on the violin.” Clara’s laugh filled the room, and Luke couldn’t resist pulling her in close. “What do you think?” he teased, “will the audience enjoy my talent?”
Clara giggled. “Oh Luke, please do not hurt another violin.” He chuckled, kissing her on the head. Then, with his arms still wrapped around his bride, he began to sing. The song filled the air, bringing with it a peace and tranquility. Clara leaned the back of her head against his chest, feeling the notes in a new and intimate way. Tears pricked her eyes as joy filled her heart.
After the hymn, he took his wife’s hand. “I have a surprise for you,” he whispered, leading her out of the ballroom. Like last time, the valet and lady’s maid were waiting at the front door with their coats. Clara tucked herself in close as they walked the candlelit path to the iron garden bench.
“A lot has happened since we were here a year ago,” she commented as Luke wrapped her in the warm blanket.
“Yes, it has,” he agreed, taking a seat beside her and pulling her to his chest.
“So …” Clara said in her sing-song way. She wanted something, something that mattered to her.
“I know. I know,” he answered. “I will start packing my bags.”
“I had not even said it yet!” Clara jokingly protested.
“You didn’t need to,” he ran a finger through her blonde hair, “I know how much you love London.”
“London? Who said anything about London?”
“Wait.” He shook his head. “We are not going toTown?”
“Not this Season,” his wife answered, kissing his cheek.
“So no need to pack my luggage then?”
“Well, luggage, yes, but the household will stay here. It would not make sense to go to London anyway, we do not have a house yet. Perhaps we can purchase one with the dowry money. There are a few near the park …”
“Clara,” Luke stopped her mind-wandering. “Where are we going?” He was thoroughly confused.
She patted his knee playfully. “To Spain, my love,” she answered as if it were obvious. “We must tell your mother the happy news, and I cannot wait to meet the children.”
The smile on Luke’s face as he pulled his wife in for a kiss was the only response she needed. They sat on their little bench, reminiscing about the past and planning for the future, sharing words of admiration and tender touches. Yes, it certainly would have been simpler if Clara had accepted his offer a year ago, but tucked into the warmth of her husband’s chest, listening to his heartbeat next to hers, she did not regret how it had happened. It had been a difficult year, but the trials had brought them together. Who could have guessed that the social Clara Merritt would fall in love with the shy Luke Maxwell? But it was a perfect match, because they chose each other every day. In the end, they did not have to enjoy the same things or think the same way, they just had to love and support one another.
Lord and Lady Maxwell looked up at their estate. The windows glistened in the candlelight as the patrons inside prepared to leave the festivities. “Would you like to go back in?” Luke whispered.
Clara shook her head, “I am happy where I am,” she said, snuggling into Luke’s broad chest. “Happier than I have ever been.”
-a few days later-
