A Christmas Dream (Hudson House Holiday #1)

Chapter Six

“I ’m so hungry, I could happily eat my own cooking,” Denver said as Holland set a large basket on the bench in the river garden while Savannah spread an old quilt on the ground.

It was an unseasonably warm day for November, and the three siblings had agreed to take advantage of the sunshine and pleasant temperatures while they shared lunch. Dulcie had packed a basket with enough food to feed eight people instead of four. No one ever turned down the opportunity to eat the woman’s food. She was a wonder in the kitchen, and Holland looked forward to learning from her once additional housemaids were hired and she could shift to working in the kitchen.

For now, Holland and Savannah, and two other girls from Silver Bluff who had been hired to help with the cleaning, had been working at a mad pace to get rooms ready, one by one, as the construction workers finished them. They had completely finished the rooms on the main floor, except for the dining room, and had completed half the second-floor bedrooms, including Brant’s.

With so few women on staff, they’d all taken up residence in the basement with Dulcie since the floors in the bedrooms there were installed and the rooms were ready for occupancy, now that the furniture had arrived and Remington had overseen the stable hands carrying the pieces down to the basement.

For now, Savannah and Holland shared a room, which didn’t bother either of them in the least. They’d shared a room as long as either of them could remember. At the end of the day, Holland liked whispering to her sister in the dark as they discussed whatever new treasures they’d unpacked or expensive goods they’d cleaned.

Life at Hudson House was so different than anything Holland had known or imagined, but she loved it there. There was a hum of energy and excitement in the air, as though everyone was waiting for something, although no one knew exactly what.

Dulcie’s little boy, Bobby, kept things lively. On Dulcie’s day off, she sometimes left him at the Drake home to play with Charli.

Holland grinned, thinking of how much her little sister adored the charming boy with the easy smile. Although he was active and inquisitive, Bobby minded well, and everyone kept an eye on him when he was at Hudson House, Brant included.

Thoughts of Brant made Holland feel a tragic combination of elation and wariness, so she cast them aside, at least while she enjoyed this sunny hour with her siblings.

Colin, Denver’s best friend who also worked at the estate, gave Savannah a hand as she settled onto the quilt, then Denver set the basket in the middle of the covering and Holland plopped down next to her brother.

“It’s your turn to say grace, Denver,” Savannah said, eyeing him as she primly folded her hands in her lap.

“So it is.” Denver bowed his head and gave thanks for their meal, the hands that prepared it, and asked for guidance for each of them for the remainder of the day.

In the six weeks Savannah and Holland had been working at Hudson House, time had flown by in a blink. Not a day went by that they weren’t busy from the moment the work began until it ended in the evening.

True to his word, Brant gave them Sundays and Mondays off, allowing Holland, Savannah, and Denver to have two days at home with their family. It was fun for them to spend those days with their parents and younger siblings.

Thanks to the funds they’d been contributing to the family coffers, along with a heavy yield from the fruit harvest, the Drake family had paid their bills and had money left over in the bank. For once, their parents could breathe easy about making it through the winter months.

“If I thought she’d have me, I’d march into the kitchen and ask Mrs. Anders to marry me today,” Colin said as he filled his plate.

Denver glowered at him, which Colin either chose to ignore or failed to see.

Holland hadn’t said anything, but Denver seemed quite protective when it came to the cook of Hudson House. Holland couldn’t help but wonder if he’d developed feelings for the woman and her little boy.

Colin closed his eyes and moaned in pleasure as he bit into one of Dulcie’s signature buttermilk biscuits. They’d been hot out of the oven when Dulcie had packed them on a plate wrapped in a thick towel. She’d included fried chicken, slices of cheese, sticks of celery, and apple slices for their meal. For dessert, Dulcie had prepared coconut macaroons dipped in chocolate, which seemed more like candy than a cookie, but everyone loved them, particularly Brant. If he knew Dulcie had a fresh batch of them, he’d contrive a flimsy excuse to visit the kitchen and snag a handful.

In her time at Hudson House, Holland had worked hard, made new friends, and peeked around the edges of a lifestyle she could hardly begin to imagine. Wealth, costly treasures, prestige, pedigrees, and ancestry were things she knew so little about, but they seemed to be quite important to those with money, or those who thought they had money and sought to improve their social standing.

Recently, a few women from surrounding towns hoping to pair Brant with their daughters had shown up uninvited, daughters in tow. Brant usually sent Remington out to deal with them. After giving them tea in the formal parlor and assuring the women Mr. Hudson was not available, Remington escorted the would-be matchmakers out the door.

Last week a mother had arrived with all five of her daughters and refused to budge from the parlor settee until she met Brant in person. The woman had traveled from somewhere in Washington with the intent of not returning home until Brant had chosen which one of her daughters he would wed.

Holland, Savannah, Dulcie, and Remington had all listened from the music room next door to the parlor, entertained by the unfolding drama.

Leaning on his considerable charm, Brant had managed to compliment the woman and her five tittering offspring, assure them he was a terrible choice for a husband, and send them on their way in the time it took him to drink a cup of tea. Holland and Savannah had replayed the entire conversation several times, laughing over Brant’s ability to wiggle his way out of circumstances others would have found impossible to navigate.

One thing Holland had observed was that wealth didn’t add beauty nor kindness to the women who came around intent on snagging a rich husband. Love was neither mentioned nor a factor in their minds. It was all about making a prestigious, advantageous match.

Despite the fact that it would set gossiping tongues wagging should they find out, Brant had made it a habit of eating dinner with the household staff in the evenings. A staff dining room had been intended for the basement, but after observing how much work it was for Dulcie to cart the food down there, even with the help of the dumbwaiters, Brant had decided to turn a space intended for linen storage on the main floor into the staff dining room. It was just down the hall from the kitchen and simplified things immensely for Dulcie.

Those meals at the end of the day, when they all relaxed and joked and laughed, made Brant seem so much more like Alex, Holland’s dear friend, than Mr. Hudson, the reserved and aloof lord of the manor.

She doubted any other man of Brant’s wealth and station would roll up his sleeves and help carry dishes to the kitchen at the end of the long day, or sit at a table eating with his household staff.

Fully aware she loved him, loved the man she saw and the one he had yet to become, Holland hadn’t yet concluded what to do about it. Nothing was the most prudent and intelligent answer, especially after watching the women parade their eligible offspring in front of Brant.

Holland couldn’t compete with wealth, or social standing, or pedigree. She was a farmer’s daughter, and the only thing special about her, in her opinion, was her family because they always made her feel loved.

“Will everyone be at the dance tomorrow night?” Colin asked as he helped himself to another cookie when they’d all eaten their fill, pulling Holland back into the conversation and their picnic lunch.

“By everyone, are you inquiring about a certain housemaid named Serena?” Savannah asked in a sing-song voice.

Colin blushed. “I meant everyone. You’ll all be at the harvest dance, won’t you?”

“We haven’t missed one yet,” Denver said, thumping his friend on the shoulder, then handing Holland his empty plate as he hopped to his feet. “Come on, lazy bones. I’m hoping to finish the upstairs sitting room before tomorrow night. We still have a lot of work to do if we’re going to make that happen.”

Colin snagged one more cookie then stood and bowed to Savannah and Holland with a flourish of his hand. “Fare thee well, fair Drake sisters.”

Holland laughed and tossed a napkin at him. He caught it and threw it back to her. She helped Savannah pack the empty plates into the basket, then took one of the cookies, leaned back on an elbow, and lifted her face to the sun.

“I could stay out here all afternoon,” she said, closing her eyes as she ate a bite of the tender cookie.

“Stay a few minutes, Holland. We have twenty minutes before I told Monroe we’d be back to work in the dining room. Honestly, I needed a rest from handling all those expensive breakables we’ve been putting away this morning.”

The dining room, which was more like a hall since the table could expand and the room could accommodate seating for a hundred, had fireplaces on both ends, and the interior wall in between them was covered with a massive built-in mahogany china hutch that featured leaded glass doors in the cabinets.

Like most of the other rooms, the dining room was decorated in shades of blue. The rug, a blue background with burgundy and gold scrolls, complemented the lighter-blue striped wallpaper that matched the silk curtains pulled back to allow in welcome light through the bank of windows opposite the china hutch.

Holland had spent most of the morning with nerves taut as she and Savannah had set the dishes Dulcie had carefully washed into the hutch. They’d had no idea how to arrange them, and had sought Remington’s guidance in the matter.

After the nerve-wracking morning, Holland wouldn’t complain about a few extra minutes of rest.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

Savannah shook her head. “Take your time.”

Holland listened to her sister’s receding footsteps as she took the last bite of the cookie. She shifted so she rested on her back with her head cradled in her hands, and sighed in contentment. As she relaxed, she felt her limbs growing heavy. If she didn’t get up soon, she knew she’d fall asleep, and that would never do. Maybe just a moment longer wouldn’t hurt.

The next thing she knew, something tickled her ear. She swatted at it, assuming it was a bug, but there it was again, brushing against her skin. Recent weeks had brought a heavy frost and chased away most creepy crawlies, so she had no idea what was disturbing her rest.

Had she fallen asleep? What if it were far later than she thought?

Concerned, Holland sat up with a gasp and nearly bumped noses with Brant as he leaned over her, a leaf from a plant she’d heard the gardener refer to as lamb’s ear in his hand. He didn’t bother to pretend to look guilty at tickling her ear with the velvety-soft leaf.

“What are you about, Mr. Hudson?” Holland asked, rubbing her eyes, feeling as though cotton packed the space between her two ears. She must have fallen asleep. Had Savannah sent Brant out to find her?

Not likely.

Her sister would have been more inclined to fetch her herself before anyone spotted Holland snoozing in the garden that faced the river.

“I saw you and the others eating lunch out here earlier. I was on my way out to the stables and wanted to see if you were still enjoying your rest in the sunshine. Your snores could have awakened some long-slumbering river monster, so I decided I had better wake you before the whole estate and town of Silver Bluff was in peril.”

Holland laughed as he’d known she would.

Today Brant was her Alex, the easygoing man who’d become a friend she cherished. She had such a hard time reconciling this persona to the immaculately groomed Mr. Hudson in his elegant suits, with perfectly polished manners.

She found Mr. Hudson intriguing, fascinating, incredibly intelligent, and kind. Alex told preposterous tales to make her laugh, folded newspapers into paper hats for Charli and Bobby to wear as they played a rousing game of pirates, and looked ruggedly handsome with his unshaved cheeks and mussed hair. She loved both versions of Brant, but neither one of them would ever be attainable. He would never be hers.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep. The sun felt so good, and we were all stuffed from one of Dulcie’s delicious meals. I was only going to rest a minute.” She blinked against the bright light, then looked to him again. “I hope I’m not horribly late returning inside. Savannah won’t let me hear the end of it.”

“It’s not yet one, so if you told her you’d return then, you’ll be fine. I’d hazard a guess you’d barely closed your eyes when I happened upon you, like a damsel in distress from a fairy tale, waiting for the handsome prince to wake her from sleep.”

Holland grinned at him, stood, and gave him a shove to move off the quilt. He rolled to his side and rose to his feet.

“If you happen upon any of those handsome princes, send them my way,” she teased with a saucy smile.

Something passed across his eyes before he gave her a puckish grin. “Maybe I’ll steal you away for myself, happy Holland. You are one of the most joy-filled people I’ve ever met.”

Holland had no idea what to say to that, so she lifted the quilt, gave it a shake to dislodge anything clinging to it, and hastily folded it.

“Will you be at the dance tomorrow?” Brant asked, walking with her toward the back door by the kitchen.

“Yes. We’ll all be there. Are you planning to attend?” Holland tried to keep the interest from her voice. She didn’t want to plead, but she certainly hoped he’d attend. It would be good for him to socialize with the community and meet people who didn’t work in the bank, hotel, or lawyer’s office.

Brant had attended church each Sunday he’d been in Silver Bluff, but despite her invitation to sit with the Drake family, he and Remington continued to sit in the last pew and escaped right after the service. Considering all the females in town who would set their cap for him given any hint of interest, she couldn’t blame him for remaining standoffish.

Yet, he was missing out on the sense of community Holland and her family enjoyed by participating in events. She wanted him to know he’d be welcomed in Silver Bluff, but he’d have to learn that for himself.

Nevertheless, a good start would be at the dance.

Brant gave her a long studying look, although she had not a clue as to what he saw when he looked at her. No doubt, the knot she’d fashioned on top of her head had already started sliding sideways. She likely had smudges of dust on her cheeks from cleaning the china hutch early this morning. Depending on how long she’d slept in the sun, she might even have a pink sunburned nose.

Then he smiled at her in the way that always made her stomach feel utterly weightless, and she knew all was right between them.

“I’ll be there, Holland. Save me a dance?”

“Of course I will, but only if you promise not to trounce on my toes.”

“No promises, but I’ll do my best.”

“You generally do,” she said and nodded to him as he pulled open the door for her. She started to step inside, then stopped. “May I offer a suggestion?”

Brant raised a dark eyebrow. “You may.”

“Come as Alex, the friendly, hard-working fellow who enjoys making new friends, not the lord of the manor who sometimes is so remote people wonder if his sour countenance is due to acute indigestion.”

Brant laughed at her teasing. “Suggestion taken. Enjoy your afternoon, Holland.”

She rushed inside, left the quilt on the bench by the door, then hustled to the dining room where Savannah was busy putting away more dishes.

“I was going to come get you, but saw someone beat me to it. I thought for sure he was going to kiss you,” Savannah said in a whisper so the girls working in the butler’s pantry wouldn’t be able to hear her.

Holland winked at her sister. “For a moment, I thought he would too!”