Page 58 of A Lovely White Christmastide
“I am fine, Bethie. No need for mother hen to smother the chick.”
Miss Haynes gave her sister a tight smile. “Well, Little Chick still has plenty to learn before she flies the coop.”
Julianna shook her head, an amused grin on her face. “Good night, Bethie.”
Miss Haynes leaned down and kissed the top of her sister's head. “Good night, Jule.” When she rose, she cast Daniel a warning glare before sweeping out of the room.
The expression left no doubt that he had indeed landed in her black books, but how?
“Is something amiss?” Julianna asked.
He relaxed his face, smoothing away the wrinkles in his brow. “Not at all. I am only anxious to read my letters.”
She flashed him a bright smile. “Then please do not let me keep you.”
“Would you care to hear what they might have to say?”
Her eyes widened and she leaned forward. “Are you not worried what sort of secrets they might contain?”
“Not in the least. I could sum them up in a few short words. James will relay how happy he now is, even though the Duke of Rothes still tries to make him miserable, and how his dear Eleanor is getting along. He will do so with a good many blots of ink that will make his letter difficult to read, but he thinks so long about his words that his quill drips in the meantime.”
She smiled. “And Robert?”
“He will pretend that he is not hurting by telling of his children in the most succinct way possible, all the while avoiding the topic of his late wife, but I can see the feelings beyond his words.”
Her pretty blonde brows dipped in concern so he rushed on.
“And Alfred… well, perhaps I should omit part of his letter. I'd hate to incur his wrath. He’s a bit more private and very fastidious.”
She giggled. “Best to start with James’s first then.”
He smiled. There was something so satisfying in having someone with whom to share this little moment of joy. The other occupants of the room were busy in their own conversations as Daniel quietly read his letter and recited what details he could to her. As expected, they were as diverting as he’d hoped with silly stories and Christmastide well wishes that warmed his heart and made his friends seem much closer than they really were.
After reading the few parts he dared of Alfred’s letter, he glanced up and noticed the soft warmth in Julianna’s gaze.
“They seem like wonderful friends.”
“They are.” He wanted to take her hand in his, but a sidelong glance from Mrs. Barker across the room stopped him. Where was Mr. Baitman when one needed him? “One day, I hope you have the chance to meet them all.”
That is, if she accepted his offer as the sincere proposal he realized it had been. He wanted her as his wife, but she’d given no answer. Another glance at the room's occupants forestalledthe question on his lips. Tomorrow, he promised himself. He would ask her again tomorrow.
Daniel entered a very full dining room the next morning. Baskets and bandboxes were stacked all about the area with various items either waiting to be placed or laying neatly in each container.
It seemed the Waverlys were very generous when it came to Boxing Day.
“Can I help you with anything?” Daniel asked a harried Mrs. Waverly.
“Would you please? I seem to have set down a stack of clouts I meant for a tenant, but in all the chaos I am unsure where.”
He walked about the table checking each basket and pile. A maid rushed in with a flour sack full of root vegetables and the housekeeper followed with several old serving dishes.
“Put the dishes in the basket for the Thatchers.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The housekeeper scurried to the other side of the table but in her haste knocked a teetering basket from the edge.
Daniel reached to pick it up but found his hand precariously close to a smaller hand that he recognized. His head came up and he stared into Julianna’s dancing blue eyes.
“Good morning,” he said softly.
