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Five minutes later, Joanna and Holly poked then-heads into the dining room—a far different dining room than the one their mothers had crept into more than twenty years ago when they'd been desperate to protect Breanna from her father's wrath. Oh, the furnishings hadn't changed much from when Stacie and Breanna's grandfather had celebrated his sixtieth birthday. But the occupants had. So had the aura they exuded. Tonight there was no tension, no arguing, no resentment permeating the room.
Tonight, there was only love and laughter and contentment.
“May we come in and listen for a while before we say good-night?” Joanna asked.
Sipping at his coffee, Damen chuckled. “For a while? You've already been listening for an hour, only outside the door.”
Across the table, Anastasia laughed, beckoned the girls in. “Of course. Come in and hear all about Lord Ryder's new granddaughter. She's only a few months old.”
r /> Joanna wrinkled her nose, remembering she was supposed to be Holly. “Is that what you're celebrating?”
Anastasia nodded, although she knew what was corning.
“Does that mean she yells as loud as Cody?” Joanna demanded, rather enjoying her role as her more outspoken cousin.
Lord Ryder coughed—a cough that sounded suspiciously like a smothered chuckle. “From what I experienced during my visit there last week, yes, I must say she does yell. But not often, and not terribly loud.”
“Then that's different.” Joanna gave Lord Ryder a reassuring look. “I don't think you should worry. She'll probably be okay. Cody's a boy. They're worse.”
“Not always,” Royce inserted dryly. “The entire staff was jolted out of sleep whenever Joanna bellowed.”
“Funny, it was the same with Holly,” Damen concurred. “I guess too many years have passed for our daughters to recall the din they created as infants.”
The girls exchanged disbelieving glances.
Ryder's lips twitched, and he nodded his white head at the girl he thought to be Holly. ''Thank you. I'm relieved to hear that the shouting will be minimal. I'm sure my Emma will be, too.”
“Are they coming here for Christmas?” the real Holly inquired.
“As a matter of fact, yes.” Ryder beamed. “The whole family will be arriving in three weeks.”
“And we'll have them over for a long visit,” Breanna inserted, anticipating her daughter's request. “I'm sure Monsieur Girard and your father will keep you both up until the wee hours of the morning, telling stories.” She rolled her eyes. “And now that Quinn is almost three, he'll probably want to stay up, too, along with Emma's two older ones. It should be quite a gathering.”
“Don't forget Damen and Wells,” Anastasia added, grinning wryly at Breanna. “They hang on to every word, just like the children. And Hibbert's worse. He adds his own personal touches to each story.”
She and Breanna laughed.
In the process of pouring himself and Hibbert a brandy, Wells gave a dignified sniff. “I thought you two had gone to bed,” he questioned Joanna and Holly, striving for a measure of discipline. “Where is Miss Carter?”
“Upstairs. She said Holly and I could stay here for a little while.” Holly flashed rum a beatific smile, her cousin's drawing clutched in her hands. “Please don't be angry, Wells. We just wanted to see what you were celebrating. And to ask Lord Ryder if the Girards were coming to Kent for Christmas. Oh, and I wanted to show Mama this.” She waved the sketch in the all
Wells tried, and failed, to look stern. “Very well. But it's late. You and Miss Holly can visit for ten minutes.”
“Well, perhaps fifteen,” Hibbert interjected, then glared defiantly at Wells, who scowled back, gearing up for another disagreement.
Royce rose from his seat at the head of the table. “We'd all like to see the sketch, moppet. Come in.”
Beside him, Lord Ryder rose, as well, ruffling Holly's hair as she walked by. “Your daughter is delightful, Chadwick,” he praised Royce. “As beautiful and talented as her mother.” He turned to gaze fondly at Joanna. “And Holly is as dazzling and fiery as you, Anastasia. It's astonishing to have two sets of such enchanting women in one household.”
“I have to agree.” Royce caressed Holly's cheek. “Damen and I are lucky men. Our wives and daughters are incomparable treasures.” He took the drawing, placed it on the table so that Breanna and everyone else could see.
“The pond,” Breanna murmured, smiling. “It's lovely. You've captured it all, right down to the two ducklings we saw there last week. We'll have the drawing framed. You can hang it in the sitting room for everyone to admire.”
Joanna's heart lurched with pride, but she was care-fro to let Holly act out her part.
“Thank you, Mama,” Holly said with all her cousin's grace and presence. Joanna was a natural lady, just like her mama. Also like her mama, she was an incredibly talented artist. She took great pride in her drawings, as Holly well knew. Bearing that in mind, she received her Aunt Breanna's praise with all the pleasure Joanna was feeling. “Ifs one of my favorites, too. Can we go into Town this week and pick out a frame?”
“I don't see why not.” Breanna glanced at Royce, who nodded.
