Page 4 of How the Duke Saved Christmas

He signaled to Eads to notify Mrs. Hansen about their guests, but he suspected the experienced housekeeper was already aware of their presence here and hustling the staff to prepare rooms and change plans for dinner.

Michael gestured for Anthony to sit next to Clara on the settee, then sank into a chair across the low tea table from them. “Other than the bridge, Lady Clara, I hope your trip north has been uneventful.” He cast a smile at Clara, who greeted it by dropping her gaze to the tea tray. “At least with the cold spell, the roads should have been frozen solid, and your carriage shouldn’t have gotten stuck in the mud.”

“Yes.” That was all she added to the conversation—a single word.

“The snow didn’t hinder your progress, then?”

“No.” For a moment, he thought the conversation would be restricted to awkward monosyllables, until she added, “We missed most of it. The snow only started to come down hard today and then just as we reached Coldstream.”

“Good.”

Good Lord.They were chatting about the damnable weather when there was so much left unsaid between them, so much they used to be able to share. They’d spent hours arguing about politics and philosophy, usually with Clara winning, or discussing music, theatre, art… He’d always been in love with her mind, with her quick wit and deep intelligence, her appreciation of culture and history. He wanted to ask her about her life now, how her charity work was progressing, if she were being courted—after all, she was still unwed. He would have known had she married because he always asked about her whenever he went down to London. Old habits died hard.

So did old feelings.

Yet instead of that wonderful intellectual connection they’d shared that had seemed to tie them together like a ribbon, what she’d offered up…snow.

Perfect irony, though, considering he had about a snowball’s chance in hell of rekindling any of the old trust they’d once shared.

With weather as a safe topic, he tried again, “It’s unusual to have so much snow even this far north, but this year’s been uncharacteristically cold.”

She said nothing and scooted herself to the edge of the settee to reach for the tea things. Despite her full skirt, he could see the stiffness of her right leg as it stuck out in front of her.

“Normally, the holidays are good for only a light dusting,” he continued, more to fill the silence than to inform them about the local weather. “But the snow makes the hills look beautiful, and this year, I’ll be able to break out the sleigh.”

She ignored that and busied herself with pouring cups.

How are you, Clara?“You’ll have nice views of the hills and deer park from your room.”How have you been,trulybeen, since the accident?“The herd comes down in the mornings to eat at the edge of the lawn.”Do you still blame me?God knows, I blamed myself for far too long…“You might catch sight of them at breakfast.”

She silently handed a cup and saucer to Anthony, then set one for Michael on the far side of the table instead of handing it over directly, as if she were afraid he might touch her. Or wound her again.

Damnation.

Anthony cleared his throat. “That sounds lovely. I’ve never been able to keep a good herd at Raleigh Hall.” He smiled, half at his tea and half at Michael, as if just as embarrassed at their inane conversation as Michael. “I’ll have to put my park ranger in contact with yours, see if the man can teach mine a thing or two about keeping the beasts out of the flower gardens.”

Wonderful.They’d moved from weather to the scintillating topic of landscaping. Michael fought to keep from blowing out a hard breath as he reached for the cup and raised it to his lips.

Fate was surely laughing at him to bring Clara and her brother to his doorstep like this, only for her to be as icy as the wind whipping through the barren trees outside. Even now she barely acknowledged that he was in the room as she placed tiny cakes and lemon biscuits on the little gold-edged plates. Yet Michael knew she was keenly aware of every word that passed between the two men as the conversation mercifully strayed to common acquaintances and the latest London happenings.

But Michael’s attention never drifted from Clara, even as he somehow managed to smile and interject comments and questions at all the right moments to keep the stilted conversation going.

“So tell me, Wakefield.” Anthony grinned at him. “I know you’ve always been young at heart, but was that a doll and toy soldiers I saw in the corner of the entrance hall?”

Michael felt Clara’s curiosity settle on him, but he ignored it as he popped a lemon biscuit into his mouth. “My brother Edmund’s children,” he answered between bites. “He and his wife are in Vienna on a diplomatic mission, and I’m looking after their four children while they’re on school holiday.”

Anthony chuckled beneath his breath. “You’ve never struck me as the paternal type.”

He forced himself not to glance at Clara and instead smiled self-deprecatingly. “Then it’s a good thing you’ve arrived. You can help me entertain them. They’re surely bored with me by now and would welcome guests for the holidays.”

“We’re only staying for one night,” Clara reminded them. “In the morning, we’ll be off early for Kelso so we won’t be delayed further. My sister-in-law needs us at Raleigh Hall as soon as possible.”

Michael exchanged a silent look with Anthony and noted the worry lurking at his old friend’s brow. “I hope all is well.”

“It is, actually.” With pride, Anthony raised his teacup in a toast. “I’m about to become a father for the second time.”

“Congratulations!” Michael had been in the north since last May, to be closer to his nieces and nephews in case they needed him while their parents were away, and he hadn’t heard the good news.

“The baby is due soon,” Anthony explained, “so you can understand why my sister is anxious to be traveling on as soon as possible.”