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“Of course,” Simon said. He flashed her his winning smile that she was coming to love so much and walked into the centre of the room, calling for everyone’s attention. Ellen turned her attention to the door as she saw movement from the corner of her eye.
“Ahh, Golda! Thomas! We are so glad you could come,” she said. She leaned in, hugging her sister, and then she shook her brother-in-law’s hand.
Thomas bowed and joined a few of the gentlemen near the hearth. Golda, however, stayed by Ellen’s side. She linked her arm through hers and leaned in close. “You look well,” she said with a wry smile. “You are almost glowing. What has happened?”
Ellen felt the warmth creeping up her cheeks and her face until she thought her whole face would be beet red. “Nothing,” she said with a soft laugh. She glanced at Simon, who looked her way and winked at her from across the room. Her heart leapt inside her chest and began to beat like the hooves of a hundred horses beating against the ground.
“No, I know that look,” Golda said. “May I welcome you to the realm of wives?” she asked.
It seemed Ellen blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. “Yes,” she said through gritted teeth. “But if you continue in your line of questioning, I shall have you thrown out of the house for indecency.”
Golda only laughed. “Welcome, little sister,” she said before walking away. However, before she had taken more than a few steps, she turned back around. She stood beside Ellen and watched Simon talking to Lord Carlisle for a moment. “It is true—every time I see him, he cannot seem to keep his eyes off you.”
Ellen waved her off. “I have heard enough of your teasing. I must play hostess,” she said. She walked over to Simon, who placed a hand on the small of her back. Soon, they were all enjoying steaming hot cups of tea or cider and an array of delicious biscuits and desserts prepared by the cook, especially for the occasion. She visited with her sisters and with the Tilburys. Viscount Tilbury seemed very interested in Sotheby Place.
“I am sorry, Viscount, but I am not the one to ask about the history of the house. I am afraid I have not been a very good student while I have been here.” She shifted, looking over at Simon, who was standing a few paces away visiting with her father, Lord Carlisle, and Thomas. “I shall have to learn more about our ancestral home.”
“Do you not mean your husband’s ancestral home?” Viscount Tilbury asked.
Ellen paused to smile at her husband. “His family is my family now, too. This home, my home,” she replied. She barely took her eyes off Simon as she said the words, meaning the words with every fibre of her being. She was his now, well and truly his.
After a few minutes, Simon broke away from the group he had been visiting with and leaned down to her ear. “Will you play some Christmas hymns for us?” he asked.
Ellen looked up at him, somewhat surprised. “I suppose. Is there no one else that might play?” she asked. She did not want to be the centre of attention.
“No one plays as well as you,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
“You have to say that. You are my husband,” she teased.
“No, I do not have to say it. It is true nonetheless.” He gently nudged her toward the pianoforte and raised his voice to address everyone that was gathered. “Ladies and gentlemen! My wife has graciously agreed to play some Christmas hymns. Shall we all gather around the pianoforte?” he asked.
Ellen made her way over to the piano. There was no getting out of it now. She sat at the piano bench and touched her hands over the ebony and ivory keys. They were cool to the touch, as familiar and dear to her as any friends. The first note sounded, and she began to sing as well.
God rest ye merry gentlemen
Let nothing you dismay
Remember Christ our Saviour
Was born on Christmas Day
To save us all from Satan’s pow’r
When we were gone astray
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Comfort and joy
Oh tidings of comfort and joy
Everyone joined in with the tune, and she smiled at hearing their voices in unison. The song continued until they had sung all five verses, a festive air pervading the place. When she had finished playing, Simon leaned down to her ear again and whispered to her.
She looked up at him in surprise, wondering if she had heard him correctly. “You want me to play one of my own pieces?” she hissed. “But I have never performed any of my work in front of anyone except for my family,” she said. She glanced over her shoulder at the half-dozen friends Simon had invited. She had barely had time to learn their names, let alone feel comfortable performing something so dear to her heart for them.
Simon grinned down at her. “There is nothing to be apprehensive about. Your melodies are brilliant,” he encouraged.
She gave one last cursory glance over her shoulder before turning back to the keys. “Very well,” she said, still not convinced it was a good idea. However, she would do as he asked, if for no one’s benefit but his.
