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King of Kings, most Holy One, God the Son, Eternal One…
Her eyes teared and she held her breath, overwhelmed by the sacred beauty of the song, the season, and the reverence in Baird’s voice.
He might say he was hard and bad. He might say he was selfish and a terrible partner, but she didn’t believe it, she couldn’t believe it. How could he be so hard and bad, so selfish and terrible when he sang like he belonged to a heavenly choir?
She heard the water turn off and Ella scrambled back down the stairs, not wanting to be caught outside the bathroom listening. She drew a blanket over her lap, her eyes still burning, her heart aching.
She loved him. She’d loved him from the moment she laid eyes on him. But it didn’t mean they were meant to be together. It just meant she’d always be his friend, always his fan, always in his corner, even if that meant from Bellingham.
Chapter Eight
Up at thehouse, everyone had something to do to get ready for Christmas tomorrow, everyone but Uncle Frederick who was taking an extended nap in the library in front of the television. Earlier that morning, Ella and Baird took the Christmas presents Cara wanted to the house and then stayed for breakfast.
Ella, not being needed for a couple of hours, snuck out and walked into Bakewell to attend the eleven a.m. service at the nearest church. She didn’t attend church often at home anymore, but it felt good to take a break and go this morning. She welcomed the calm, and the opportunity to be quiet, and pray, sing, and listen to the sermon.
You don’t have to have all the answers, she reminded herself.
You don’t have to know everything today.
Ella slipped away as soon as the service ended and walked back to Langley Park. Hanging up her coat in the mudroom and easing off her boots, she padded down the hall and peeked in to the kitchen where she saw Alec and Baird in flour covered aprons, apparently making something—baking something—from the bowls of freshly washed berries to the flour and sugar cannisters, along with an impressive number of measuring cups.
Alec spotted her in the doorway and shooed her away. “You will have to wait until later to see,” he said. “It’s a secret.”
“And this secret is for tonight?” she asked.
“No spoilers,” Baird answered. “Please continue on your way. This is men’s work.”
Apparently, men’s work involved lots of spills, and a dozen different bowls and pans. “I’m just looking for Cara. Do either of you know where she happened to disappear to?” she asked.
“The wrapping room,” Alec said, briefly glancing up. “It’s the first door on the left, once you’ve taken a right to the family wing.”
“So, the same floor as your bedroom, only this is the first door down that hallway, on the left-hand side.”
Baird and Alex exchanged glances. “Isn’t that what I said?” Alec asked Baird.
Baird shrugged. “I understood it.”
Ella rolled her eyes and left, returning to the center hall where she quickly climbed the grand curving staircase to the second floor. Opening the first door on her left—once she’d turned left at the top of the stairs, not right—she found Cara seated at a long table with wrapping paper, ribbons and bows spread out in every direction.
“So, this is the wrapping room,” Ella said, closing the door behind her because the hallway was much colder than the room, which had a little space heater in it to keep Cara warm.
“It’s my personal sitting room,” Cara answered, “but I rarely use it. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do with a personal sitting room. In the past, the Countess Sherbourne might have gathered with friends or female family members. She might have worked on embroidery or practiced her watercolors. I do none of that, so the room is usually neglected, but it does make a wonderful space to write Christmas cards or wrap gifts.”
“If this was my room, I’d fill that wall with books,” Ella said, glancing around and seeing open space for bookshelves. “I’d put a chaise there by the window for reading, and maybe a desk for some writing. And I wouldn’t let anyone come in. It would be my private domain.”
“Poor Ella, the youngest of five, never had any privacy.” Cara finished the bow on the package and set it aside. “There is already a library here. If you were the countess here, wouldn’t you want to add your books to the library?”
Ella sat down in a chair not far from where Cara was working. “No, I’d want my books in a room that was mine, and then I’d decorate it the way I liked it. The house I share with my roommates came furnished, and most of my favorite books are in boxes in Mom and Dad’s garage. Someday, I hope to pull them out and put them on display.”
“Soon,” Cara reminded her. “So, where have you been? Were you hiding down at the cottage with your own decorations?”
“No. I went to church in the village. It was really lovely. I feel better now.”
Cara set down the scissors. “Are you upset about anything? Has Baird done—”
“No. This isn’t about Baird. He’s fine. Really. We’re not fighting as much as we were.” Ella glanced around the room, which was very formal with a gold framed mirror over the marble hearth, light blue toile wallpaper, a blue floral embroidered fire screen, and a half dozen gold framed portraits on the wall. “Does it ever seem strange that you live here now?”
“Every day.” Cara looked up and smiled. “But I’d never tell Alec that. It would hurt his feelings. My happiness is so important to him.”
