Page 39 of Snowdrops and Winterberry
Adam offered a very proper and undeniably regal nod.
Howard looked to her once more. “Until this evening, Robbie.” He held out a small fabric-wrapped bundle. “And, until then, here’s something to make your day brighter.”
He’d brought her a gift? “What is it?”
“Something I’m told you’re fond of.” Another wink. “Open it as you’re driving out, enjoying nature.” He handed her up onto the pony bench.
“Thank you,” she said. “For whatever this is.”
“You’re quite welcome.”
A moment later, the cart was on its way. Robbie watched Howard for as long as she could see him. How quickly her heart had grown fully attached to him.
“What did Mr. Simpkin give you?” Adam asked.
“I don’t know. I haven’t opened it yet.”
“He said you were supposed to open it while we were drivingout in search of greenery.” Adam spoke quite seriously. “It would be ridiculous not to open it.”
Robbie held back her amusement. “I’d not wish to be ridiculous.” She untied the bit of twine holding the fabric together, the bundle sitting on her lap. She peeled back the fabric to reveal inside a small plum pudding. “Oh, lovely.”
Adam’s eyes grew wide. “He remembered.”
“Remembered what?”
“I told him, when we were digging in the garden, that you liked plum pudding. And he remembered.”
Her dear, darling Howard. He remembered.
***
Howard finished his work for the day as quickly as he could manage, then proceeded directly to the guest bedchamber where Adam and Robbie were staying during their time at Brier Hill. He had promised to help the little boy and his nursemaid finish their preparations.
He paused on the threshold, watching Robbie interact with her little duke. She offered patient encouragement as Adam lay on the floor, doing his utmost to keep a toy top spinning. He wanted it to spin far longer than it was. Robbie assured him he would get the knack of it soon enough.
Keeping quiet so he wouldn’t disrupt them, Howard slipped inside the room. He’d brought some supplies with him for making a shovegroat board. The coachman had given him a discarded bit of wood. Growing up, Howard and his brothers and sisters had played shovegroat in the dirt. It worked far better on something smooth like wood. And he suspected Adam would enjoy making the game board.
He didn’t set down his supplies quite as quietly as he’d walked, and that brought attention to him. He smiled at Robbie. He then dipped his head to Adam. He never quite knew how tointeract with the boy. He was a duke, yes, but he was also a child.
“I thought of a game we might enjoy playing on Twelfth Night,” Howard said.
“If the king or queen decides to.” Adam had latched on to that aspect of the celebration very quickly.
“Of course,” Howard said. “But, in case our monarch does decide on this game, we need to prepare the shovegroat board.”
Adam shifted his position from lying on his stomach to sitting on the floor. He looked at Howard with his characteristic authoritative curiosity. “What is a shovegroat board?”
“It is simple, really. I’ve already sanded the wood so it’s smooth. There will be horizontal lines painted across the board at an equal distance from each other with numbers beneath each line. Those numbers are how the game is scored.”
Adam twisted and got on his feet, crossed to where Howard was, and eyed the blank board. “There aren’t any numbers or lines.”
Howard nodded his acknowledgment. “We need to do that part. Since we planned to do our Twelfth Night preparations this evening, I thought we could paint ourselves a shovegroat board too.”
“I don’t want to do that,” Adam said. He tended to tuck himself behind forcefulness when he was unsure about something.
“I’m certain Mr. Simpkin’ll show you how,” Robbie said.
“What about the Twelfth Night crown?” Adam asked. “We were supposed to make that tonight.”
