A Wallflower Christmas (Wallflowers #5)(34)

Hannah nodded wordlessly.

“One night,” Lillian continued, “Daisy was ill, and they kept her in the nursery. I had to sleep in another room in case the fever was catching. I was frightened for my sister, and I woke in the middle of the night crying. Rafe heard me and came to ask what was the matter. I told him how worried I was for Daisy, and also about a terrible nightmare I’d had. So Rafe went to his room, and came back with one of his soldiers. An infantryman. Rafe put it on the table by my bed, and told me, ‘This is the bravest and most stalwart of all my men. He’ll stand guard over you during the night, and chase off all your worries and bad dreams.’” The countess smiled absently at the memory. “And it worked.”

“How lovely,” Hannah said softly. “So that’s the significance of the soldier?”

“Well, not entirely. You see …” Lillian took a deep breath, as if she found it difficult to continue. “The very next day, the tutor told Father that he believed the toy soldiers were distracting Rafe from his studies. So Father got rid of all of them. Gone forever. Rafe never shed a tearbut I saw something terrible in his eyes, as if something had been destroyed in him. I took the infantryman from my nightstand and gave it to him. The only soldier left. And I think” She swallowed hard, and a shimmer of tears appeared in her dark brown eyes. “I think he’s carried it for all these years as if it were some fragment of his heart he wanted to keep safe.”

Hannah wasn’t aware of her own tears until she felt them slide down both cheeks. She wiped at them hastily, blotting them with her sleeve. Her throat hurt, and she cleared it, and when she spoke, her voice was rusty. “Why did he give it to me?”

The countess seemed oddly relieved, or reassured, by the signs of her emotion. “I don’t know, Hannah. It’s left to you to find out the significance of it. But I can tell you this: it was not a casual gesture.”

AFTER COMPOSING HERSELF, HANNAH WENT INTO THE LIBRARY in something of a daze. The children were all there, seated on the floor, consuming sugar biscuits and warm milk. A smile tugged at Hannah’s lips as she saw more children clustered beneath the library table as if it were a fort.

Seating herself in the large chair, she ceremoniously opened the book, but before she could read a word, a plate of biscuits was put in her lap, and a cup of milk was offered to her, and one of the girls put a paper silver crown on her head. After eating a biscuit and submitting to a minute or two of carryings-on, Hannah quieted the giggling children and began to read:

“I am the Ghost of Christmas Present,” said the Spirit. “Look upon me.”

As Scrooge went on his travels with the second Spirit, and they visited the Cratchits’ humble but happy home, Hannah was aware of Rafe Bowman’s lean, dark form entering the room. He went to a shadowy corner and stood there, watching and listening. Hannah paused for a moment and looked back at him. She felt an anguished clutch of her heart, and a surge of ardent need, and a sense of remarkable foolishness as she sat there wearing a paper crown. She had no idea why Bowman would have come without Natalie to listen to the next part of the story. Or why merely being in the same room with him was enough to start her heart clattering like a mechanical loom.

But it had something to do with the realization that he was not the spoiled, heartless rake she had first believed him to be. Not entirely, at any rate.

And if that turned out to be true…had she any right to object to his marriage to Natalie?

FOR THE NEXT TWO DAYS HANNAH SEARCHED FOR AN OPPORTU-nity to return the toy soldier to Rafe Bowman, but with the manor so busy and Christmas drawing near, privacy was in short supply. It seemed that Bowman’s courtship of Natalie was running smoothly: they danced together, went walking, and he turned the pages of music for Natalie as she played the piano. Hannah tried to be unobtrusive, keeping her distance whenever possible, staying quiet when she was required to chaperone them.

It seemed that Bowman was making a concerted effort to restrain himself around Hannah, not precisely ignoring her, but not paying her any marked attention. His initial interest in her had vanished, which certainly wasn’t a surprise. He had Natalie’s golden beauty dangling before him, along with the certainty of power and riches if he married her.

“I do like him,” Natalie had told her privately, her blue eyes glowing with excitement. “He’s very clever and amusing, and he dances divinely, and I don’t think I’ve ever met a man who kisses half so well.”

“Mr. Bowman kissed you?” Hannah asked, fighting to keep her tone even.

“Yes.” Natalie grinned mischievously. “I practically had to corner him on the outside terrace, and he laughed and kissed me under the stars. There is no doubt he’ll ask me to marry him. I wonder when and how he’ll do it. I hope at night. I love getting proposals in the moonlight.”

HANNAH HELPED NATALIE CHANGE INTO A WINTER DRESS OF pale blue wool, the skirts heavy and flat pleated, the matching hooded cape trimmed with white fur. The guests were going on a massive afternoon sleigh ride, traveling across the new-fallen snow to an estate in Winchester for a dinner and skating party. “If the weather stays clear,” Natalie exclaimed, “we’ll be riding home under the starscan you imagine anything more romantic, Hannah? Are you certain you don’t want to come?”

“Quite certain. I want to sit by the hearth and read my letter from Mr. Clark.” The letter had been delivered that very morning, and Hannah was eager to peruse it in private. Besides, the last thing she wanted was to watch Natalie and Rafe Bowman snuggle together under a blanket on a long cold sleigh ride.