LITMIR.BIZ

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half an ear, trying to ignore the deep roll of his voice whenever he answered one of their many questions about London. More than once the heady melody of it drew her out from behind the canvas to admire the way his crisp white collar framed his face. Then his eyes would snap to hers and she’d duck back behind the painting, willing her heart not to race and feeling like a foolish girl for peeking around corners at a man.

      ‘Don’t let Daisy command his attention,’ Laurus whispered as he came to stand beside her.

      She nearly wiped the knowing look from his face with her orange-tipped paintbrush as her brother sauntered off to sit near his guest. Whatever he imagined might transpire between her and his friend, it most certainly wasn’t what Lily had mind. While Lord Marbrook was here, she intended to avoid him. It would be difficult, what with supper and festivities tonight and the ball tomorrow, but she’d find a way to manage it. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be here for the entire twelve days of Christmas. At least the weather offered no reason for him to linger. Although there was snow on the ground, it wasn’t overly thick and the sky was blue and clear, adding to the frost decorating the trees.

      It didn’t take long for Aunt Alice to change from asking questions to telling Lord Marbrook one of her many stories of Christmas past, including the one about the Christmas goose who nearly escaped. Lily listened with a smile. She was one of the few people in the family who never tired of her aunt’s stories. Daisy wasn’t so patient, coming to stand beside Lily, arms crossed over her chest in a huff.

      ‘I can’t believe she’s boring him with that old tale.’

      ‘I can’t believe he’s listening.’ As her aunt paused to take a breath, Lily waited to hear Lord Marbrook make some excuse for rising and escaping the way Charles and Edgar often did. He didn’t, but instead listened to Aunt Alice as though she were in the House of Lords delivering some great speech. It seemed an odd amount of politeness from a Marbrook. The dowager viscountess hadn’t been subtle in her eagerness to escape from Aunt Alice and her tales at Petunia’s wedding.

      ‘I think she’s starting in on the time Grandfather spilled the wassail bowl on Lord Creighton,’ Daisy whispered. ‘I’d better rescue poor Lord Marbrook.’

      ‘Leave him be.’ Lily grabbed her sister before she could walk away. It was bad enough Aunt Alice had cornered Lord Marbrook, Lily didn’t need Daisy fluttering around him like some lovesick butterfly and shocking his already sure-to-be stunned sensibilities. ‘He’s a man and capable of looking after himself.’

      ‘And a very handsome one, too. Now, let go of me before you get paint on me like you did on him.’

      Mortified of being reminded of her blunder, Lily let go and her sister practically floated across the room to stand beside Aunt Alice and stare at the object of her admiration.

      Then the French doors flew open and the twins rushed in with a whirl of cold air, mud and snow. The dogs jumped to their feet to bark at the intrusion, the noise making Lily’s brush slip, leaving an orange streak across the white. She scraped at the mark with her palette knife, wishing her family would better control themselves.

      ‘Uncle Laurus, come sledding with us. There’s just enough on the rise beyond the portico to really make the sled fly,’ John demanded, his brown hair scattered wildly over his head.

      ‘Yes, come at once,’ James added, identical to his brother except for the increased number of freckles covering his snub nose. The boys didn’t wait for an answer, but hurried back outside, leaving the door open behind them and a trail of wet footprints across the wooden floor. The dogs followed them into the crisp afternoon, their barks fading off over the lawn.

      ‘What do you say, Marbrook? Are you up for the snow?’ Laurus asked, shrugging on his heavy coat.

      ‘Oh, yes, let’s go outside and sled,’ Daisy pleaded, plucking her coat from the fender where it’d been left to dry beside Lily’s after their walk outside this morning.

      ‘Only if Miss Rutherford will join us,’ Lord Marbrook added.

      Lily peered around the edge of her canvas, stunned by the invitation.

      ‘I, well, you see—’ Lily’s mind turned to mud as she tried to think of a suitable excuse for staying indoors and failed.

      ‘Don’t stand there like one of your father’s oak trees, go on outside,’ Aunt Alice commanded. ‘The air will do you good.’

      The matter decided, and not to Lily’s liking, she laid down her brush and palette, arranging them on the small table so they wouldn’t be dislodged by anyone passing by.

      ‘Stop dawdling, girl,’ Aunt Alice snapped.

      ‘I’m coming.’

      ‘So is Christmas.’

      Lily slid her coat off of the fender and pulled on the heavy wool, then followed Daisy, Laurus and Lord Marbrook outside.

      Her breath rose in a cloud around her head as she walked across the stone portico to the railing on the far side. Just below it, her nephews threw themselves down the short hill on their wooden sleds, leaving wide troughs in the thick snow. At the bottom, they stood and waved at the adults.

      ‘Uncle Laurus, pull us up the hill,’ James begged.

      ‘Please,’ John pleaded.

      ‘Will you help me, Marbrook?’ Laurus asked.

      ‘I’m afraid I can’t,’ he answered plainly, offering no further explanation.

      ‘Then it’s up to you and me, Daisy,’ Laurus informed her.

      ‘But…I…’ she protested, looking back and forth between him and Lord Marbrook.

      ‘Come on or we’ll have no peace.’ Laurus took her arm and pulled her down the hill to where the twins were waiting on their sleds for their obliging uncle and pouting aunt.

      ‘I suppose it’s below a Marbrook to frolic in the snow with boys,’ Lily remarked with more edge than intended.

      ‘If only I could.’ He let out a long breath and it rose like a wraith around his head before fading away. ‘I took a musket ball in the thigh in France and have a difficult time managing hills, even small ones, when they’re slippery with snow.’

      ‘Oh, I see.’ Lily wrapped her arms around herself, shivering more in embarrassment than cold. It seemed nothing she did around Lord Marbrook was ever correct.

      They stood together in silence for some time as she struggled for a topic to fill the awkward quiet. ‘Would you like to see Father’s hothouse? A friend in Mexico sent him a beautiful new plant, though I don’t suppose such things interest you.’

      They rarely interested anyone outside her parents and their botanist friends.

      ‘I’d like to see it. Please, lead the way.’

      She gaped at him before she recovered herself and led him across the portico and down the steps. They followed the curving stone path past the square beds of bare rose bushes, accompanied by the boys’ laughter and Daisy’s complaints. Pygmalion trotted beside Lord Marbrook, as loyal as any hunting dog. They made for the end of the garden where a brick-and-glass building with four faux chimneys and an arched door meant to mimic the front of Helkirk Place stood. Numerous windows made up the walls, each covered with a fog marred by large beads of water which streaked the grey surface. Lord Marbrook moved forwards to pull open the door and Lily sighed as the moist heat swept over her. Inside, the air was heavy with the heady aroma of the lilies and the large rosemary bushes along the sides. She revelled in the smell of warm earth and herbs as she moved down one side of the long table covered with green-leafed plants with long stems topped with brilliant red flowers. Lord Marbrook strolled down the other side, admiring the plants.

      ‘They’re called poinsettias. The priests in Mexico decorate their churches with these as a reminder of the star of Bethlehem,’ she explained as they stopped near the centre, facing each other across the flowers. ‘Here they don’t

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