Page 39 of Map of a Lady's Heart
“She’s an angel to have us all here for Christmas, you do know that, don’t you, Wesley?” That was Lucy, bouncing baby Maggie in her arms.
“I do.” But he was less and less pleased about it. Moodily he ate as his family chattered about neighborhood gossip. If it were such a lot of work, surely Viola should have breakfast, shouldn’t she? “Was she here earlier?” he asked abruptly.
His mother blinked at him. “Who, dear? The vicar and his wife? They’ve gone into Derbyshire to see their daughter.”
“Viola,” he said through his teeth. “Has anyone seen her this morning?”
A strangely fraught hush fell. “I believe I saw her walking in the garden,” said Justin at last, his eyes flicking from his mother to his grandmother.
“Are you certain? I’m sure I saw her heading toward the kitchens,” said Lucy.
“No, she must be with the housekeeper. She did hint there would be a splendid dinner tonight.” Anne wagged her finger at him. “Be patient, Winterton! You cannot keep her in your pocket all the time.”
I don’t want her in my pocket, Wed groused to himself.I only wanted her in my arms for a morning kiss.
He shoved back his chair. “All right. I shall see you at dinner.”
“But where are you going?” protested his mother. “We were hoping to…”
“Play charades!” cried Grace as her voice trailed off. “Please say you will, Uncle!”
Wes’s eyes flitted around the table again, suspiciously. Something was definitely up. “Perhaps later.”
“I nearly forgot,” said his mother hastily. “Viola did ask me to give you this.”
Wes all but snatched the note from her hand. With no great surprise he saw it was another riddle.
Far from the foreign bazaar, a league removed from thrills, A man must simpler pleasures apprehend, A stroll, a quiet vista, the written page, There lie adventures large and small without end…
He headed for the library.
“Is that everything?”
Mr. Jenkins, the stable master, nodded. “Aye, m’lady.”
Excellent. Viola surveyed the boxes they’d brought. Anne and Lucy were planning to come help her unpack them.
“Thank you.” She smiled and nodded at Billy and Johnny, the grooms who had finished unloading the wagon. “Go on and take the rest of the day free. No one will go out today.”
They thanked her and piled back into the wagon, rattling back up the newly widened path toward the stables. Humming softly, Viola took the broom and finished sweeping the floor. She could have sent the maids out to do this—all of it—but felt it meant a little more if she did it herself. She was still getting used to being in charge of a whole household, and she’d asked a great deal of all the servants by inviting so many guests.
But that, she did not regret. Wes had raised his brows, but she’d seen him walking the grounds with Justin, explaining why he’d done something or other around the estate. She’d heard him laughing and jesting with his sisters, who teased him with the affection of older siblings. He’d gone shooting and riding with Freddie and Thomas, and promised trips to London to his nieces, and played bowls with the little ones. For all his wandering, he loved his family. And they were beyond delighted to have him home.
She pinned a large map of the world on the wall and put fresh candles in the sconces beside it. She paused to study it. Wes had suggested any number of places where they might go on a wedding trip, but Winterbury Hall had been neglected; they were needed here. He’d promised her it was only postponed, but now it would be months before they could go.
Her eyes lingered on Brussels. “Happy Christmas, Stephen,” she whispered, pressing a kiss to her fingertip and touching it to that spot on the map. “Next year.”
She was putting sprigs of evergreen in the windowsills when Anne and Lucy arrived. Lucy flung herself out of the gig and raced to the door. “Disaster!”
Viola jerked upright, her heart pounding. “What?”
Anne hurried up beside her. “Not disaster,” she said with a stern look at her sister. “But… not good news. Winterton has left, and no one knows where he’s gone or when he will return.”
Wes found the clue Viola had left in the library—Every journey begins and ends at home, And every traveler must know the way. The best guide one could find, Is a loyal steed in want of hay—and was on his way to the stables. He had no idea what she was up to, but he was more and more amused and intrigued by it. His curiosity had reached unbearable levels, and he’d begun wondering if—or rather,hoping—he would find her at the end, reposing in a steaming bath with her hair up and that beguiling twinkle in her eye, ready to wish him a very happy Christmas in private. It was, after all, the one year anniversary of the first time he’d made love to her…
Unfortunately Rivers, the butler, intercepted him. “Mr. Gardnew has returned, my lord.”
Wes stopped. “Where?”
