A Seasonal Pursuit (Regency Christmas Brides #1)

Chapter Eight

CHAPTER 8

I t was peculiar how excited Webb was to return to Downing House when he had only been gone for two days. But excited he was, and he could not wait to scoop up his children and roar to life as some dreaded Christmas bear that they would run from. If they were engaged in decorating, he could drape ribbons over his ears as he trudged after the children as this bear, and if he could find a sprig of evergreen somewhere in the house that wasn’t spoken for…

“Why do you look positively scheming when we have actually left the site of our schemes?”

Ah, right.

He’d almost forgotten about his travel companion.

He turned from the window to face Rose with a quick smile. “Just trying to decide how to greet my children. I was thinking of being a bear.”

She seemed to consider that, jostling a little on her side of the carriage. “That is a classic, to be sure. Have you done that before?”

“I have,” he admitted with a wince. “That is one of the reservations. But if I could manage to snag some of the festive décor items, I could be a Christmas bear, which might improve matters.”

“Hmm,” Rose hedged, craning her head from side to side. “I would do something completely unexpected. Have you ever considered a cow out to pasture? Completely ambivalent and slow to move?”

Webb snorted a loud laugh and covered his mouth. “Pierce would grow so frustrated by the lack of interaction and movement. Kitty would stamp her feet and demand that I do something. It would be utterly perfect.”

Rose made a sort of bowing gesture, smiling rather smugly. “You’re welcome. And then, of course, the cow could decide to lie down on top of the children’s legs… Wait, how old are yours again?”

“Pierce is four,” Webb told her, smiling at the image of his dark-haired, fair-eyed boy with a stubborn streak. “And Kitty is three.”

“Perfect,” Rose said firmly. “Lying on the legs and mooing contentedly would be most appropriate.”

Webb cocked his head at her. “How would you know?”

Rose shrugged a little. “I am the favorite aunt of my nieces and nephews, of which there are seven at this point. I must confess, I do prefer the infant stage to actual childhood. Once they’ve a mind of their own and clarity of speech, everything becomes a little less fun and a little more challenging.”

“I will have to take your word for it,” Webb said simply, grinning out the window. “Pierce is still very innocent at four, but heaven knows, the mischief cannot be long in coming.”

“My sisters seem to enjoy the child stage well enough,” Rose went on, almost as though he didn’t say anything. “And my mother certainly enjoys them being older. I think it might just be a personal preference. And likely varies with each child. What is Kitty like? ”

Webb’s smile turned soft. “Kitty has her mother’s fair curls and my dark eyes. She is shy until it serves her not to be and seems to dance when she walks. She is destined to be smarter than her brother, but she also merrily follows him everywhere. She’s not above getting dirty and, right now, her favorite word is pony.”

Rose laughed at that, clapping her hands together once. “That is utterly perfect. She is going to be the trial of your life when she turns sixteen, Webb, so you had better recruit some help.”

He groaned at the prospect, covering his eyes. “Perhaps my sister will take her on. Emily is destined to be the sort of stern Society mother everyone fears.”

“Then she will be most useful, I am certain.” Rose suddenly gasped and placed both hands on the window, staring out. “Is that Downing?”

Webb nodded with some pride as the house came into view, one of the fairer prospects of it from this road. “It is indeed. Not so grand as Fairview, I grant you, but I’m rather fond of it.”

“Who could blame you for that?” Rose breathed, her words fogging up the window a touch. “It’s a perfectly situated country house and has both grandeur and charm. And look at all of those windows!”

“Yes, we do rather enjoy the light.” He grinned at her awestruck expression and the upturn to her lips even as she gawked. “Come now, Rose. This isn’t all that grand.”

Rose blinked at it, barely seeming to hear him. “Perhaps not, but it is one of the loveliest houses I have ever seen.” Her eyes slid to him, their bright blue shade illuminated by the color of the sky just through the window. “And you know how unlikely I am to give a compliment.”

He held her eyes, his grin remaining exactly where it was.

On her .

“Yes,” he told her in a low voice. “I am well aware. High praise indeed.”

There was something soft in this moment between them, something that wasn’t friendship or any shade of romance. It was a sort of contentment, something binding, in a way, and it released a tension in his chest that he’d forgotten had been living there. No breathlessness, no change in pulse, no haze floating about his head, or ringing in his ears.

He was quite simply… happy.

Not entertained this time, or enjoying himself in present company, but happy. In a deeper, more indescribable sense.

Happiness. When had he last found that when he wasn’t holding his children in his arms?

She looked away first, but he wasn’t far behind. Strangely, his face didn’t heat at all, and there was no embarrassment. No shame. No guilt.

Interesting, that.

Rose continued to enjoy the prospect of Downing the entire drive up, and Webb continued to enjoy the view of Rose enjoying the view. Her eyes darted over various aspects of the house and grounds, and he wasn’t particularly paying attention to what. He was more interested in seeing the changes in her face as she inspected and noticed the details of his home.

She liked what she saw, that much was evident, but what he wanted to know was what she liked and how much she liked it. He wanted to hear her tell him all of her real opinions with the frankness he had come to know and appreciate. He wanted to see his house through her eyes, not his own, which had seen this house from the moment he was born. It was nothing spectacular or grand or lovely in his mind, other than that it was home, and he very much wished at this moment that he were seeing what she saw.

Whatever she saw .

The carriage pulled around to the family entrance, for which he was grateful. He wasn’t in the mood for a grand entrance that his family would mock him for, nor one that would draw attention to Rose being there. She was a visitor, yes, but this was no standard business that required the usual pleasantries and formalities. This was his friend and co-conspirator coming to see what his life was like and to insert a bit of festive frivolity into their day without the fuss of the house party being involved.

It did not follow standard protocol at all.

Nor did he want it to.

Webb stepped out of his coach and turned to offer a hand to Rose, who took it quickly, her eyes still on the house and completely ignoring him, which made him smile. She released his hand as soon as her feet were on solid ground and looked around the perfect square that was the courtyard. The doors to the kitchens, the larder, the pantry, and another entrance for servants were there, as well as the door to the connection room that the family used when they came and went on less formal occasions. It wasn’t that picturesque of a courtyard, as the bit of green in the middle had been trampled by his children and staff so often, it was a miracle the color still remained.

But Rose looked as though she might suddenly twirl in the center of it all.

In fact…

“Are you planning on twirling?” Webb ventured, injecting a wry but playful note into his query.

Rose looked over her shoulder at him, her blue eyes almost flashing in the bright sunshine. “I might. Would that upset your perceptions, my lord?”

“Not at all. It would rather reaffirm them.” He pointed out the windows all around them. “I cannot promise it would be unobserved by others, however. And their perceptions are ones I cannot speak to. ”

She followed his gesture, her eyes narrowing. “Hmm. One would not wish to give false impressions. I shall refrain for the time being.” She snorted softly and turned to face him. “Whatever gave you the idea that I would twirl, Webb?”

He shrugged easily. “You are a girl who flings and flops. Why would you not also twirl?”

“I haven’t been a girl for several years,” she murmured, her eyes lowering as she shook her head a touch.

“Except for when you fling and flop,” he said, leaning forward just a little, though he was a fair distance from her. “And, I suspect, when you twirl.”

Her eyes darted back up to his, and her mouth curved in a crooked smile. “One does like to ward off age however one can. Those actions are surely better than engaging in the poor table manners of childhood.”

“Most likely.” Webb straightened and nudged his head towards the door to the connection room. “This way. We’ll see which member of the family we come across first and how far the Christmas preparations have gotten.”

He moved into the connection room, not doing much to lead Rose other than walk in his usual way, and he could hear her quick steps behind him. It was a short distance to the stairs that would lead them up to the family rooms, but he ventured around them instead, wondering if the decorations might be waiting for hanging in the low drawing room here on the ground floor.

The sound of giggles met his ears and Webb felt his entire body relax as a smile crossed his lips. There was nothing like being at home with his children, and the sounds of their delight would never fail to lift his heart and his spirit.

“That sounds promising,” Rose mused as they walked.

Webb didn’t answer, his steps filled with a trifle more haste. It had only been two days, and barely that, but it felt like longer somehow .

He poked his head around the door to the Low Drawing Room, and saw his sister on the floor with five children in various stages of the decorating process, his mother sitting in a chair nearby with gold ribbon in her lap.

“Who is giggling in here?” Webb demanded in a booming voice, making all of them jump. “We don’t giggle in this house!”

“Papa!” Kitty and Pierce leapt to their feet and raced to him, throwing their arms around his neck as he entered the room. He scooped them up with a growl, kissing each on their cheeks and hugging them close.

“Uncle Webb!” cried Emily’s daughter Molly as she got to her feet and ran to him, grabbing a leg.

“Uh-oh!” He groaned and pretended to stagger. “We might be in trouble.”

Molly’s brother Dominic took up the challenge and hurled his dense three-year-old body into his other leg.

Now Webb wobbled dramatically from side to side, acting unbalanced and weaving every step with the added weight of his niece and nephew. Emily was grinning at the act, and even Webb’s mother was managing a genuine smile.

He looked at Emily’s youngest, sitting so quietly beside her. Susan had always been the quietest of the children, though she was the exact likeness of her mother, and her two years of life had been constantly filled with Webb’s attempts to make her smile, most of which had failed.

But not all.

“Susie Lou,” he teased with a silly voice and pretended strain in each step. “Are you a monkey, too?”

Susan put a finger in her mouth, giving him a rare widemouthed smile as she leaned against Emily, her perfect curls flattening with the motion.

“Hmm?” Webb put a little bit of a musical quality into his voice, trying not to feel too triumphant about the grin he’d already earned.

Emily whispered something to Susan, and the little girl got up and walked very sedately towards Webb, put a hand on his knee, and pushed with the tiniest of efforts.

Still, Webb moaned and carefully tottered to the ground amid all five children, making sure to use excessive dramatics to accompany his descent. The children cheered when they’d downed him, and Emily clapped to celebrate their victory.

“Now that the beast has been slain,” she said amidst their laughter, “perhaps we might continue with our decorations? We want everything to be beautiful when we hang it up tomorrow.”

Webb pushed himself up to his elbows, smiling at his sister. “What are we doing first?”

Emily speared him with a look. “Try thirdly. Some of us have been working at this all morning.”

“I wasn’t here!” Webb protested with a laugh. He turned to Kitty, who was patting his cheek in an attempt to get his attention. “Yes, my love?”

“Come see dis, Papa,” she insisted, pointing to the place where she had been sitting.

He nodded at once. “Of course.”

Emily cleared her throat and he looked at her quickly. She flicked her eyes to the doorway, then back at him. Webb glanced over his shoulder and saw Rose standing there, looking amused but reserved.

Which must be awkward.

Right.

Webb quickly got to his feet. “Apologies, Rose. Bit of an idiot.”

“I spy an understatement,” Emily muttered, widening her eyes.

Ignoring her, Webb gestured to his mother. “Rose Portman, this is my mother, Lady Downing. My sister, Mrs. Fellowes, and her children, Molly, Dominic, and Susan. And my own little ones, Pierce and Kitty. Everyone, this is Miss Rose Portman.”

His mother and Emily inclined their heads in greeting, while the children waved easily. Rose did them all the benefit of a prompt and perfect curtsey.

“Do you want to help me plait ribbons, Rose?” Molly asked brightly, her dimples on as much display as her golden hair. “I’m not very good, but Grandmama is helping me.”

Webb could have kissed his niece for her perfect embodiment of spring sunshine at that moment.

“Plaiting is my specialty, Miss Molly,” Rose told the girl with a sage nod, stepping around the bits of greenery, ribbons, and beads scattered along the floor.

Webb watched her go with a fond smile, which was, most unfortunately, caught by his sister, who gestured for him to come over to her. He obliged, but did so by taking the slow route in the direction of his mother, kissing her cheek quickly before going to sit on the floor beside Emily. Kitty started showing him her work, but it did not stop his sister from beginning her interrogation.

“Who is she?” Emily hissed through a warm smile.

“Rose Portman,” he told her without any inflection. “Weren’t you listening?”

Something sharp jabbed into his thigh, making him inch away. He suspected it was a pair of shears, and those could be deadly in Emily’s hands.

“ Who is she?” Emily demanded as she focused on weaving ribbon through evergreen boughs.

Webb exhaled shortly. “A guest of Lady Standhope’s. We’ve become friends in our mutual attempts to find the party less insufferable.”

Emily hissed very softly. “Is it really that bad?”

“No, but she has her aims and I have mine, and we both need help. So we’ve come together to make sure they can be accomplished more efficiently.” He shrugged and took the bit of hellebore Kitty had handed him. “I just wanted someone to make the party less awkward for me.”

“And Rose?”

Webb pressed his tongue to his teeth, unsure if he should admit anything that was not his own story. “She’s looking for a suitor,” he hedged.

“I could find her one.”

He glared at his sister, then held out his fingers for Kitty to drape ribbons over. “We’re friends, Emily. And Rose feels as restless cooped up in a house as I do, so I suggested she come with me this morning to find a little more entertainment than Fairview held for us today. That is all.”

“You call her Rose,” Emily pointed out with a shrug, her eyes taking on an impish light.

“And she calls me Webb,” he shot back. “It’s an alliance, Em. Nothing more.”

“Marriages have been made as alliances.”

He pinched her upper arm with a sharpness he hadn’t applied since childhood.

“Ouch!” she shrieked, leaning away.

“What are you two doing?” their mother demanded with the sort of warning tone she reserved for their brothers.

“Nothing!” they replied as one.

She rolled her eyes heavenward and looked at Rose. “I don’t care what anyone says, Miss Portman. Your children never grow up entirely.”

Rose smiled just a little, her blue eyes darting to Webb with an understanding that made him grin. “I should hope not. Whatever would they do that for?”

And despite his words to his sister, Webb’s stomach clenched, while his heart seemed to take a breath all its own.