Page 25 of A Christmas Miracle for the Frosty Marquess
“Julian,” Clara said excitedly. “Would you be so kind as to help me? Some of the best clusters are just out of my reach.”
Without waiting for his reply, she approached him, standing close enough for him to catch the faint scent of lavender from her dress.
“Certainly,” he said, forcing himself not to step back from the woman he was to marry.
Reluctantly, Julian moved forward to assist, trying to keep his focus solely on the task at hand.
As he reached up to grab a particularly promising branch, their hands brushed against each other. The fleeting touch sent an electric jolt coursing through him. It was a sensation he hadn’t expected. It was a sudden awareness of Clara as a woman, not just an old friend and the woman he would soon wed against his will.
Startled, he stepped back, his eyes locked onto Clara’s. She looked equally taken aback, her cheeks flushed, and eyes widened. But any potential moment shattered as young Edward dashed towards them, pulling on Clara’s hand.
“Come see the Soinpettas Sarah and me just found,” he said.
Elizabeth laughed musically, and Clara stifled a laugh behind the back of her hand. It wasn’t until his sister spoke that Julian understood what the child had said.
“Poinsettias, darling,” she said, speaking to her son over her shoulder.
Edward blushed, but he was undeterred.
“Yeah, those,” he said, tugging on Clara once more. “Come see. Beneath the snow, their leaves are real green, too.”
Clara laughed again, causing a warm flush throughout Julian’s body. What was happening to him? Why was he suddenly seeing Clara so differently?
He watched from a distance as Clara knelt beside Edward and the poinsettias, cooing over the discovery with a soft, gentle voice and explaining how the holly leaves were so green in winter. He couldn’t help but see the maternal warmth she exuded. The way her eyes softened as she listened to Edward’s innocent ramblings and the delicate way in which she held his tiny hands were incredibly motherly, especially for a woman who had never had children of her own.
It hit him with a force he hadn’t expected. Someday, she might offer those very traits to her own children. A sudden pang washed over him. The realization that Clara could become the mother of his children was overwhelming. But would she wish to bear children with him? Could he ever entertain the idea of siring children with her?
He tried to shake off the thought, to focus on the enthusiasm of the children. But the thought had taken hold in his mind, and it wasn’t quick to release him. The warmth and electricity he had felt moments prior was gone, replaced with cold reluctance. He couldn’t allow himself to have such thoughts. To have children with Clara would require certain feelings for her. And he was sure he could never be capable of such.
Chapter Eleven
The time spent outside collecting the materials they would use for the fresh decorations for the manor was the most delightful Clara had experienced that holiday season. The snow draped everything in blankets of brilliant white, but the poinsettias, the holly, the ivy, and the mistletoe shined spots of vibrant reds and greens through the cold, powdery fluff. And the children took delight in the entire experience, from pelting each other, and the adults, with the occasional snowball to helping gather the evergreen leaves and vines, the flowers, and the berries.
By the time they had finished, each one of them had arms full of flowers and leaves. Even Julian held his own bundle of vines and berries, and he was watching his niece and nephew with all the doting affection that an uncle could display. Clara smiled to herself when Julian feigned a terrible injury by one of little Edward’s snowball attacks. But when Julian met her gaze, she averted her eyes. She didn’t want to send him back into his earlier brooding state by watching him too closely. She wanted everyone to have a lovely day of crafting and hanging decorations.
When they returned inside the manor, Elizabeth called for a tray of hot tea and milk to warm their respective bones. While they waited for the drinks, they each unloaded their hauls onto the long table Elizabeth had organized for their decoration creating. Then, her hostess turned to Clara, beaming brightly with cold flushed cheeks.
“I believe that, with all of us, we can weave some lovely garland strands from the ivy and holly,” she said. “We have enough here to decorate at least the entire lower floor of the mansion. I think that would be a good place to start.”
Clara nodded; a shiver of delight mixed with the thawing of her cold body in the warmth emitting from the fireplace in the drawing room running up her spine.
“That sounds perfect,” she said.
Elizabeth grinned, positioning herself at the head of the table, with Clara in the middle and Julian at the end, and the two children on either side of her. The children giggled and threw holly berries that fell off their leaves at one another, complaining playfully when one struck them. But despite their unfocused antics, they still did their part to contribute to several strands of garland. By the time another hour had passed, there was a considerable stack of the strands, which Clara helped Elizabeth wrap delicately at one end of the table, which their group would hang later in the day.
Then, Elizabeth ushered her children to a small, low standing table in the corner of the room. On the table were strips of green, red, and white paper, as well as paste and glitter. Clara watched as their faces lit up yet again, and they took seats in the small chairs that matched the little table.
“Paper chains,” Sarah said, reaching for a handful of the paper strips excitedly.
Edward grabbed the paste, smearing some on a piece of paper of each color and then immediately dumped a handful of the gold glitter on them.
Elizabeth leaned down, touching both of her children’s shoulders.
“Do not end up wearing more of that than you put on the paper,” she said with an expression that told Clara that she fully expected them to do just that.
The children dutifully nodded up at their mother, then went back to work on their respective chain links. Elizabeth rejoined the adults, smiling sweetly at Clara and Julian.
“Now, I would like the two of you to make a large holly wreath,” she said. “It will go on the front door of the manor. And while the two of you do that, I shall tie up some ivy with the red and green ribbons in the center of the table. Please, feel free to use anything here that you like for the wreath. There’s no such thing as too festive.”
