Page 83 of Stolen By the Duke of Ice
Two pinecones, and then another, fell from the tree. Seemingly exhausted—whether from the actual pushing or from laughing—they stopped. Leaning against the tree to rest, they found that they had an audience.
Peter and Matteo, unaware that they diplayed the same stance, had their arms crossed over their chests; both were holding back laughter.
“Peter! Matteo!”
Dahlia and Helena straightened. Both unconsciously smoothed down their cloaks.
“What are you doing here?” Dahlia, who had not quite caught her breath, gasped.
“Why, we have come to help you, Your Grace.”
Matteo bowed. He looked over at Peter and indicated to the tree. Without another word, both men braced their arms on the thick trunk.
“Perhaps you would like to move back?” Peter suggested.
Quickly moving away, Dahlia and Helena watched as the two men shook the pine tree with enough force to loosen far more cones than they had.
Gasping with joy at the results, Dahlia and Helena clapped their hands and hopped in excitement.
When Peter and Matteo ceased their ministrations, the two ladies rushed to pick up the pinecones.
They repeated the process with two more trees until the ladies declared themselves satisfied with the number of cones lying on the ground.
Matteo went to Peter and whispered to his friend with a grin, “There, do you not feel the hero?”
Matteo went to help the ladies gather the remaining bounty. Peter stood for a moment watching Dahlia. Her face was flushedfrom the effort of shaking the tree or from her excitement; either way, Peter found himself staring. He knew she would disagree with him, but he thought the color becoming on her.
Turning to look at him, Dahlia smiled her thanks, her green eyes bright with joy.
Indeed, Peter felt the hero.
Chapter Seventeen
Mary, Claire and Chastity, upon hearing of Dahlia’s plans for the holiday decorations, volunteered their help. Dahlia had been reluctant at first to involve them for she felt it would be an intrusion of their time.
“Not at all!” Mary said. “We would really like to help.”
“Oh, please Dahlia, let us help! We will not make a mess of it, we promise!” Claire pleaded with her.
“I have never heard of such a practice, so of course, I would like to experience it!” Chastity added.
After their pleadings and assurances, Dahlia had accepted their help. She was, in truth, quite flattered that they, and indeed the staff as well, showed such enthusiasm for her small project.
Sha directed the twins and Chastity to gather the flowers from the hothouse with specific instructions as to which ones they were to collect.
They entered the sitting room in a flurry of excited conversation, each carrying a basket full of blooms. They gathered red and white camellias, white hyacinths, and red amaryllis.
Simmons and Deakin, the footmen who had cut down the fir tree, now entered the room with it, each one carrying one end of the tree. Dahlia had instructed them, before entering the castle, to shake off as much snow from the tree as they could.
Once inside the sitting room, Dahlia watched as the footmen debated on how to make the tree stand, one or the other coming or going in search of tools or materials to be used.
When, finally, the tree was sturdy enough to stand —and stay standing on its own—the ladies rushed forward in all their excitement to decorate it.
The tree, with its stand, stood close to ten feet. It looked bigger than it had in the outdoors.
“Mary, you put the amaryllis please; Claire, you are in charge of the camellias; Chastity, you take the hyacinths. I shall add the pinecones when you have finished,” Dahlia said. “In the meantime, Helena and I will be working on the garlands for the staircase balusters.
“And what shall I be assigned to, Your Grace?” Mrs. Baker asked, an expectant look on her face.
