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“Duck and roasted vegetables. Potatoes—Lord Sherbourne likes his potatoes—and then the special dessert.”
“The mess.”
Mrs. Booth laughed out loud. “The Eton mess, yes, and I saw the kitchen. So did Mrs. Johnson, but she’s happy to have Lord Sherbourne home and didn’t mind the fuss…or the mess.” She winked at Ella before glancing back at the table, counting the place settings. “I think we are short a place setting. Do you mind bringing in another plate and stemware from the closet downstairs? I confess, my legs are tired today.”
“I don’t mind at all. You should have put me to work sooner!”
*
The towering Christmastree in the green drawing room was lit, and dozens of pretty packages nestled at the base. Candles flickered on the mantle, and Emma was at the piano in the music room playing lovely traditional carols.
Uncle Frederick, Aunt Dorothy, Cara, and Alex had gathered in the Music Room to enjoy the impromptu concert while Mrs. Johnson put the finishing touches to her Christmas Eve dinner. Ella was still enjoying being useful and was assisting Mrs. Johnson with putting last-minute things on table now that Mrs. Booth had gone to dinner.
After placing the bottles of opened red wine on the table, Ella adjusted the fragrant Christmas centerpiece she’d helped Mrs. Booth create earlier made from fresh pine branches, pine cones, and small oranges studded with whole cloves. Three tall dark red candles rose from the middle of the centerpiece, their soft light created a beautiful glow, captured by the elegant stemware and fine China.
The sound of the doorbell caught her by surprise. Was someone expected? Or maybe it was a late delivery, perhaps with some of the gifts Cara had ordered. With Mrs. Johnson in the kitchen and Mrs. Booth gone, Ella went to the door and opened it. A middle-aged man stood on the threshold in a winter coat, a driving cap in his hands.
“Is Alec available?” he asked, his English accent different from Baird’s, and even different from Alec’s.
“Yes,” she said. “May I tell him whose here?”
He hesitated briefly. “James Phelps.”
Her stomach knotted and her heart fell. She recognized the name. Footsteps sounded in the entry hall. Baird had come to see who was at the door.
“A James Phelps is here,” Ella said to Baird.
She wanted to ask Baird if it was the same man who took money from Alec’s firm, but she didn’t have to. Baird’s hard expression revealed his displeasure.
“Would you like to come in?” Ella asked, turning back to Mr. Phelps. “Perhaps you’d like to sit while I get Alec.”
“He’s fine where he is,” Baird said quietly. “I’ll go get Alec.”
Ella closed the door behind Mr. Phelps. She didn’t know what to say to him, and she didn’t think he would speak to her and then he suddenly asked, “Are you Lady Sherbourne’s sister?”
Ella nodded.
“You’ve come from America,” he added.
Ella nodded again. “Just for the holidays.”
“I heard she hasn’t been well.”
Ella lifted her head and gave the man an incredulous look. “Then why on earth—” But she broke off and pressed her lips together.
For a long minute, she just stood in the entry looking at Mr. Phelps while he stared at the floor.
Finally, Baird was returning with Alec, and Ella slipped away.
*
Baird remained. Therewas no way he was going to leave Alec with the dregs of society. He was so angry he wanted to grab James and pin him to the floor and then throttle him until he cried like a baby.
“Good evening, James,” Alec said coolly. “This is a surprise.”
“I imagine it is.”
“Would you like to sit down? The drawing room is far warmer than here in the hall.”
