A Seasonal Pursuit (Regency Christmas Brides #1)

Chapter Nine

CHAPTER 9

T he perfect thing about spending a morning’s work with young children was that their questions were very rarely focused on speculation or propriety and more centered around the activity they were engaged upon than anything else.

Rose had never been so severely interrogated on her ability to thread beads in her entire life.

Blessedly, Webb and his sister were getting just as many notes and questions on their skills, and the only adult to escape such things was their grandmother, who was, in their eyes, quite perfect.

As a decent grandmother ought to be.

But the real trouble came when Webb’s brothers appeared on the scene, hellbent on mischief and disorderly conduct among the children. Ribbons became tucked in cravats, sprigs of fir were shoved into hair, and someone started chasing all of the children around with a very pointed piece of holly leaf. Shrieks of delight mingled with fear filled the space, and it seemed whatever decorations had been planned would need to be revisited another time for anything productive to occur.

Strange for two grown men to cause such havoc among children, but Frederick and Sebastian Rixton were rather perfectly attuned to what would provoke laughter and energy in each of their nieces and nephews, and they were determined to get it.

Webb seemed to view his younger brothers with a mixture of irritation, amusement, and surrender, and they were just as keen on provoking him as the children. Less interested in the laughter and energy portion, but the provocation seemed the point.

It worked well.

And yet, there was real affection between them, and Webb’s smashing Sebastian’s head with a small pillow when the man least expected it proved that. The laughter that erupted from everyone in the room, young and old, was warm and filled with love.

Rose hadn’t thought her family lacking in any way prior to this, but… They had never laughed like that together. Her extended family, certainly, given the number of them and the variety of personalities among them, but her immediate family…

Not that she or any of her sisters would have hit one another in the head with a pillow, no matter what silly things they’d done earlier in life. But they’d always been so focused on propriety in her home. On being agreeable and acceptable and presentable. She had warm parents and smiling sisters, but they were rarely silly.

The silliness here… Well, it was delightful and captivating, and a little bit addictive.

They’d all moved from the Low Drawing Room on the ground floor to one of the others on the next, and it was a much larger room with far more comfortable furnishings. Only some of the greenery had been brought up with them, and the younger children had given up on their projects in lieu of more entertaining relatives .

Rose, however, worked intently with Molly, Pierce, and their grandmother on a particularly well-embellished garland. Webb was trotting his daughter on his knees just across from her, and she would not pretend that it was not remarkably appealing to see him thus.

He hadn’t even been that appealing on their first meeting, despite fulfilling the tall, dark, and handsome categories with perfection.

His children adored him, that much was clear. He was their whole world, no matter how they loved their grandmother, aunt, and uncles. Their father was their everything, and they were his everything.

A sharp prickling in her finger brought Rose to her present moment, and she frowned down at it, a small droplet of blood appearing on the tip. She popped it in her mouth very briefly, shaking her head. “Clumsy.”

“Oh, who hasn’t done that five or seven times in the course of a sitting in embroidery?” Emily replied with a wince from the other side of her mother.

“I haven’t,” Frederick offered from his slouching position beside Webb on the sofa. He’d made no effort to appear like a proper gentleman in Rose’s presence, which was rather endearing, actually.

Emily huffed. “Bash, be a dear and thump the back of his head, please.”

Sebastian took a bite of his biscuit and obeyed his sister, earning himself a swat from Frederick, and the two began taking swipes at each other.

Rose watched them for a moment, lowering her hand to her lap. “Is that normal behavior for brothers?”

“Depends on the brothers,” Lady Downing told her without looking up from her work. “Mine never misbehaved, and Webb rarely does, but those two seem to have developed the temperament of rabid boars at times.”

“You could have had us trained better, Mother,” Frederick replied, sniffing once and taking a biscuit from the tray on Sebastian’s side of the table.

Lady Downing shook her head, eyes widening. “One did try, but beatings did not seem particularly humane or genteel.”

“Mama!” Emily snorted before dissolving into giggles.

Frederick and Sebastian laughed along with them before Sebastian decided to start chasing Dominic around the furniture at a pace that Dominic could match. Kitty, seeing the fun, climbed off Webb’s knees to run with her cousin away from her uncle.

Rose shook her head as she continued to string red beads together in a long strand for the greenery. “I must say, Lady Downing, that I’ve never seen a family so active with each other. I’ve three sisters, all married and with children, and my brothers-in-law are excellent fathers, but the way you all interact with the children is something I have never seen before.”

“That was my husband’s influence, I believe,” Lady Downing said with a hint of a smile. “He was all fun and games all the time, and it was impossible to raise the children with any other manner.”

“Not all the time,” Frederick protested loudly, rubbing the back of his head. “I have a history of bruises back here from his quick hand.”

Webb snorted softly. “You wouldn’t have had as many if you’d learned your lessons the first time.”

Frederick gave his older brother a dark look. “Says the one who told me how to duck properly to avoid them because he was getting his own.”

Rose chortled, covering her mouth quickly to stifle the sound, which seemed to make Webb and Frederick laugh as well.

“It was quite the experience for me, motherhood,” Lady Downing said to Rose in an undertone as her sons continued to laugh and tease each other. “I was more properly raised, likely as you were, but Rupert was such a wonderful, engaging, and fun man that I found his ways perfectly irresistible. And my children seem to be well mannered enough for other people and for social occasions, so all was not lost with my sense of propriety in parenthood.”

“I am inclined to agree,” Rose assured her, eyeing all of the siblings with more than a touch of envy. “The bonds between them seem very strong.”

Lady Downing finally looked up, watching her children with a fondness. “They do, don’t they? The boys try me, and Emily gave me quite the time of it when it was time for her debut, but there is something beautiful between them that surpasses anything that irks them about each other. And were their father alive, I can assure you he would be on his hands and knees on the floor and chasing the grandchildren.”

Emily laughed beside her and nodded repeatedly. “He would. I have many memories of climbing upon his back while he chased after the boys and pretending I was on a hunt.”

Rose shook her head slowly. “I don’t believe my father ever got on the ground with us.” She looked at Lady Downing with wide eyes, her chest tightening with horror. “I have never felt unloved, please don’t mistake me…”

“Of course not, Miss Portman,” came the maternal reply, a soft hand going to her arm. “There are so many ways to parent children, and many ways to show love.”

She was grateful to hear that from a woman whose family was rather exuberant in their expression of affection.

“When are we doing the yule log, Mother?” Frederick asked around a mouthful of biscuit.

Rose looked at him in surprise. “Yule log?”

Webb was also looking at his brother, though his expression was one of familiar contempt. “Why are you asking Mother? This is my home.”

Frederick didn’t even look at him and simply put a hand over his brother’s face, pushing him away. “Mother?”

Lady Downing gave her middle son a longsuffering look. “If Webb has arranged it, or Emily, for that matter, then Christmas Eve, Fred. As always. And there will be no seasoning it with brandy this year.”

Her son gave her a very aghast expression. “How was I supposed to know that amount would be so very incendiary? And Webb’s eyebrow has grown back well enough. A little anointing of the log, now that I know how much not to use, would only bring good luck.”

“God save us,” Webb muttered, shaking his head.

“If that’s how you want to bless the thing,” Frederick allowed with a benevolent nod, as though Webb had only made a suggestion. “Any traditions for your family’s Christmas, Miss Portman?”

Rose blinked at the question, her brain suddenly going vacant as she tried to recollect Christmas with her family. All she could think of were lengthy church sermons and feeling as though she’d break her teeth on coins tossed into the Christmas pudding. Her sisters hoping for dolls every year, and Rose simply hoping she would not get a doll. Stealing marzipan and gingerbread with her cousins from the kitchens.

Webb was giving her a confused look now, his head cocked slightly as though her hesitation was a cause for concern.

In a way, it was, but only for her.

Did she have Christmas traditions? Or was it simply a day they observed because everyone else was?

“Well,” Rose began slowly, searching every corner of her mind for some answer, “I think that one of my aunts introduced a sort of mulled hot chocolate at some point. Not with wine, though. I believe there was a touch of whisky along with cinnamon and ginger and cloves. Perhaps a bit of orange as well. They never let us children drink it, obviously, and even now, it is rare that we get a taste of it. We are all still too young, I suppose, in their minds.”

“Now that is a drink I’d like to have!” Sebastian called out from his place chasing the children.

“Large family gathering, is it?” Frederick asked, ignoring his brother and folding his hands over his midriff. “That’s always nice. Unless they’re a boring lot.”

Rose smiled, feeling rather fond of Mr. Frederick Rixton for his finding a positive view of her poor attempt at tradition. “They are not. Well, a few might be as individuals, but as a family, we’re quite a bunch. There’s an uncle who always tries to get an aunt quite soused before the night is through so she will spill all the family secrets.”

Frederick nodded. “Excellent use of time. I approve.”

“I shall tell Uncle George forthwith,” Rose quipped with a grin, going back to her work.

“Any regrets at missing it this year?” Frederick asked.

Emily huffed in irritation. “Fred! Stop interrogating her!”

“What?” he protested, flinging his hands out. “She’s a new face and Webb isn’t telling anything, so I have to ask questions!”

Rose found herself laughing hard. “Webb isn’t telling anything because Webb doesn’t know anything. We’ve only been friends for two days, and there’s only so much one can talk about at a house party surrounded by others at a festive time of year. And last night’s parlor games…” She rolled her eyes dramatically for effect. “I have never felt so surrounded by idiots in my entire life.”

“There’s the Rose I know,” Webb said almost proudly, pointing at her and winking.

Frederick hooted with laughter, while Emily seemed to be looking between Webb and Rose with some frequency.

Rose wasn’t going to allow for more of that, so she resumed stringing her beads. “At any rate, the breath of fresh air that is Downing House is most welcome.”

“We’ve got you stringing beads and plaiting ribbons,” Sebastian countered as he finally scooped Dominic and Kitty up, one under each arm. “Some fresh air.”

“It would certainly be more fresh if you were of some help,” Emily snapped with impatience that Rose sensed was mostly forced.

He hefted the giggling children meaningfully. “What do you call entertaining the children? Your husband is absent, I noticed.”

“Not absent,” a new voice corrected. “Occupied.” A rather average-looking man with a round face and broad smile entered, every inch the country squire in dress, giving Sebastian a challenging look.

Sebastian shrugged, heaving the children as he did so. “Apologies, Bertram. Anything amusing?”

“Settling details of the hunt for us in a few days and sending out invitations to a few local families, not that you care about details.” He came over to Emily and leaned down to kiss her cheek, his fair but thinning hair catching enough of the sunlight to tell Rose exactly where Molly got the shade of her hair from.

“I love a hunt,” Frederick said on a sigh, still slouching on the sofa. “You going to come with us, Rose? Watch us go out and see which of us is the best Rixton?”

Bertram cleared his throat. “I already know the answer to that.” He nudged his head towards his wife, earning him a fond patting on the arm.

Frederick gave him a doleful look. “Boo, Bertram. Bad form.”

“Em doesn’t hunt,” Sebastian pointed out as he tossed Kitty onto the sofa beside Frederick and Dominic onto the sofa opposite, both children squealing in delight. “Therefore, disqualified.”

“And Webb cannot use the title as his excuse,” Frederick pointed out, jabbing a finger into Webb’s side as he scooped Kitty onto his lap with his free arm.

Webb looked at him in disbelief. “Did you hear me say anything about any bleeding title?”

“Language, my lord,” Sebastian scolded, miming a swat to the back of Webb’s head from across the room. “There are ladies present you are not related to.”

Webb looked as though he would throttle Sebastian if only he had the energy. “Stuff it, Bash.”

“My apologies, Miss Portman,” Sebastian said as he turned to her and bowed deeply. “My brothers are such brutes. Please, try to scrub all you have heard from your delicate ears.”

Rose favored the man with the most superior look she could manage, smiling in the way her mother always said was too smug. “You’re a bleeding blowhard, Sebastian Rixton, and if you weren’t half so charming while you were, other people would say so.”

Frederick and Webb laughed so hard they began to wheeze, but then they rose to their feet and applauded her. “Brava! Brava!”

Emily, on the other hand, had fallen onto the floor in giggles. Lady Downing beamed as she continued her focused work on the garland and ribbons.

“I like Miss Portman,” Bertram announced to the entire room as Frederick and Webb resumed their seats. “What a refreshing guest.”

Still laughing, Webb shook his head, eyes on Rose, making her cheeks heat, for some odd reason. “Isn’t she just?”

Rose’s throat tightened and she shifted in her seat, looking to Molly on the floor beside her. “What do you think, Molly? Is this string long enough?”