AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Oh, Eric, that’s splendid!” Brigitte’s heart sang at the wonder in her husband’s eyes. “What else did he say?”
“H-m-m? Oh, nothing more.” Swiftly, Eric averted his gaze, busying himself with readjusting the garland about the doorframe. “He had to hurry off to his sister’s house. She’s making Christmas dinner for their family.”
Brigitte’s brows rose. “I see. If that’s all you discussed, then why were you gone so long?”
An evasive shrug, followed by a chuckle. “I had a private matter to attend to, my inquisitive wife.”
“How many people will be living here, Uncle?” Noelle piped up, before Brigitte could pursue the subject.
“Lots.” Eric rumpled her hair. “Hundreds, perhaps. Is that too many?”
“Oh, no,” she assured him. “Fuzzy has decided he likes company after all.”
“Does he like surprises?”
Instantly, Noelle’s eyes lit up. “Yes. Is that what the ‘private matter’ was—a surprise?”
“Um-hum. Upstairs.” Eric gestured toward the doorway. “Would you care to see it?”
“It’s in your chambers, isn’t it? You’re finally going to show me the preparations you made for the puppet show!”
“Excellent guess. Unfortunately, however, it’s only half right. Come.” Amusement curved Eric’s lips as he turned to his wife, who was eyeing him in utter bewilderment. “Will you be joining us, Lady Farrington?”
“Is there something more than I already know?” she demanded.
“Accompany us and find out.”
“I fully intend to.” Brigitte sprinted after Noelle, wondering what on earth Eric had done in his chambers, other than that which she’d helped him effect: arranging Noelle’s tea party and hiding her gift. When had he found time to do more? He hadn’t left their sides for more than a few minutes at a time; not since that pivotal moment in Liza’s room. Nor had he spent a single night in his old room. Brigitte herself could attest to that fact, she thought with a warm, sated glow.
Of course, there was that hour every afternoon when she and Noelle would take their naps—an hour she seemed to require more and more as the days progressed. Perhaps Eric had used those intervals to work on his surprise.
Which reminded her that she had a surprise of her own to share.
Lighthearted, Brigitte dashed up the stairs, hearing Eric’s rumbling laughter as he followed in her wake.
By the time they reached the east wing, Noelle was soaring at a dead run.
“Uncle, it’s locked!” she called out, jiggling the door handle.
“Of course it is. How else would I keep prying young ladies”—he tossed Brigitte a meaningful look along with his emphasis of the plural—“from inspecting my handiwork.”
Brigitte was all innocence. “I?”
“You.” He strode up, extracting the key from his pocket.
“I didn’t even know of the surprise,” she protested.
“What if you had? Would you have been disciplined enough to stay away?”
Silence.
“I rest my case.” Eric inserted the key in its slot.
“I believe I’ve just been chest-ized,” Brigitte muttered to Noelle.
“That’s all right.” Noelle patted her arm soothingly. “Remember what I said: Uncle always smiles when he chest-izes you.” Her attention was recaptured by the sound of the bolt lifting. “Hurry, Uncle. Fuzzy and I are going to burst.”
“In that case …” Eric swung open the door. “Go in and behold your surprise.”
