The Holly and the Ivy, page 10
“Well, he’ll sit there and watch you while you talk,” Robbie said. “Then you needn’t be prevented from telling me what you came to say.”
Adam nodded quite regally. “I wish to plan a party.”
A feather might have knocked Robbie clear over at that declaration. “A party?” She must’ve heard him wrong.
Another quick nod. “We had our Christmas celebration. After Christmas is Twelfth Night. I think we should have a Twelfth Night celebration. I think Lord and Lady Jonquil would enjoy it.” The last bit was spoken with hesitancy and a little uncertainty.
“I suspect they would fancy a Twelfth Night party,” Robbie said. “But you aren’t fond of gatherings or parties.”
“Neither was my father, but he still held them. He planned balls and gatherings and dinners because Mother liked them. Ladies like those things, I think.”
“You want to plan this one because Lady Jonquil would like it?”
Another quick nod. This time his brow pulled in a combination of embarrassment and uncertainty. He had all but perfected the unwaveringly confident mien that his father had so often exhibited, but Adam couldn’t hide the fact that, at his heart, he was still a little boy.
“Twelfth Night comes nearly twelve days after Christmas,” Robbie reminded him. “By the time we reach eleven days after our Christmas celebration, you’ll nae be here any longer.” She’d given him the explanation so he’d understand the obstacle he faced. But speaking it aloud drove home just how short her time at Brier Hill was. She would be here less than a fortnight longer. Less than a fortnight to walk with Howard and talk with him.
Howard must’ve sensed her distress. He stepped up beside her and silently took her hand, as he’d done in the pony cart several days earlier.
“We did not celebrate Christmas on Christmas Day,” Adam said. “Can’t we have our Twelfth Night celebration whenever we want? It isn’t a real one, after all.”
Howard entered the conversation for the first time. “That is a delightful idea, Your Grace. And I think, as an added special gift to Lord and Lady Jonquil, the three of us could do the work planning it. Lady Jonquil has looked a bit tired of late, as soon-to-be mothers often do. A little extra rest would be good for her.”
Adam watched him with a mixture of uncertainty and distrust. Spending some time with Howard might help Adam overcome his worries about him. On the other hand, it might simply solidify his suspicions that Howard was taking her away.
“I think you’ve a good plan,” Robbie said, hoping she was encouraging the right approach. “Which aspects of the celebration ought we to include?”
Adam shrugged, a little of his enthusiasm having drained from him. “I don’t know very much about it. Father and I had cake on Twelfth Night, but nothing more than that.”
The old duke hadn’t been one for celebrations, except when he thought they might bring his wife home.
“Twelfth Night was quite a raucous time at my house growing up,” Howard said. “I can tell you all about it.”
All of a sudden, Adam’s posture turned unyielding and ramrod straight. “You can tell Nurse Robbie, and she can tell me. I don’t need you to tell me anything.” With that, he spun around, and rather than walk away with palpable dignity, he ran. Pooka ran after him.
“I hadn’t meant to upset the boy,” Howard said.
“I do nae think you did.” She leaned her head against his shoulder. With-out hesitation he slipped his arms around her and held her in a tender embrace. He’d held her many times since their rainy-afternoon encounter. The experience usually sent her heart fluttering and her mind spinning. This time it brought a sense of peace and calm.
“I think he realizes my time as his nursemaid is drawing to an end. He doesn’t know a great deal of the world, but he’s a bright boy. And while he does a fine job of appearing as if nothing bothers him or hurts or scares him, underneath that mask, he’s terrified.”
“And anything or anyone who contributes to his worries of losing you gets pushed away.”
“Aye.”
Howard bent his head enough to whisper into her ear, “He loves you, Robbie—it is not a difficult thing to do—but he feels torn.”
“I do as well,” she whispered.
He pressed a kiss to her temple. “I know.”
She lifted her chin to look into his deep, earth-colored eyes, so full of compassion and concern. “And do you also know that I love you?”
“I’ve had my suspicions, but it’s nice to hear it. Does my heart a whole heap of good.” He kissed the tip of her nose. “I love you too. Amazing how quickly and fully that happened, i’n’ it?”
“Wonderfully amazing.”
Howard bent a bit more, enough to press his lips to hers. The kiss was delicate and faint and yet still heart-stopping. She brushed her fingers over the stubble on his jaw, reveling in the simple pleasure of being near enough to touch him.
“We may not have the answers just now, Robbie, but I’m a patient man. And I’m not easily discouraged. We’ll sort an answer. I know we will.”
Chapter Fifteen
Howard was in the midst of digging a hole for the rowan tree the next day when Adam and Lord Jonquil arrived there. He paused in his work and waited to hear what it was they needed. Adam was the first to offer an explanation.
“Lord Jonquil is going to help with our Twelfth Night party. I thought it best that he participate since he knows where everything is and he will know what Lady Jonquil would like to do.”
“Wise,” Howard said.
Adam gave a very regal dip of his head. He was the most duke-like eight-year-old Howard had ever met. Once the boy was grown, he would be formidable.
Lord Jonquil stepped a little closer and, lowering his voice, said, “I’ll make certain the boy doesn’t disrupt your work overly much or put himself in danger, but I do think Miss MacGregor would be less anxious if Adam were more at ease with you.”
That was true as the day was long. His voice at conversational volume, Howard said, “If the two of you don’t mind helping a bit here, we could discuss our plans as we work.”
Adam looked around the garden doubtfully.
“We just finished a little jaunt around the area,” Lord Jonquil said. He motioned to his clothes, simple and made of the rough-spun fabric generally worn by laborers. “So we’re quite well dressed for the undertaking.”
Howard gave Adam a quick look-over. The boy’s clothing up until now had been quite formal, no doubt in deference to his rank. But he was, just now, dressed quite casually. The coat he wore, Howard would guess, actually belonged to one of the servants at Brier Hill. It fit him overly large, and the sleeves were rolled up, but it was too small to have been Lord Jonquil’s. His collar lay open. His trousers were a bit dirty, his hair a bit mussed. The black sash he’d been gifted at their Christmas celebration was tied about his middle, visible beneath the front edge of his coat. It was good for young ones to be able to get a little messy now and then. It was good for people, old and young alike, to spend a little time with the earth.
Howard motioned with his shovel toward a pallet of dirt in which were a few small flowering shrubs. “Those are holly bushes. They’re to be planted two in that section”—he motioned to his right—“and one in that section.” He motioned to the left and just a touch behind himself. “I’ll give you a mark where they’re supposed to go. If you’d start digging holes, that would help a lot.”
Lord Jonquil didn’t need to be asked twice. Howard had had enough conversations with the gentleman to know he was well-versed in the art of cultivating plants and had a love of doing so.
He abandoned, for the moment, the hole he was digging for the rowan tree and moved to the sections of the garden where the hollies were being planted. With the blade of his shovel, he marked very clear x’s in the moist soil to tell his unexpected helpers where to dig.
Lord Jonquil picked out digging implements for the two of them, doing a fine job of selecting the right ones for their relative sizes and abilities. The gentleman took to the work immediately. Adam was far more hesitant.
“The wonderful thing about digging,” Howard said, “is it’s a simple thing to learn. You keep your back firm and strong, bend your knees, put your shoulders into it, and pull out the soil.”
Adam nodded but with lingering uncertainty. Howard suspected the boy wouldn’t appreciate being analyzed as he tried his hand at something new, so he put his attention to his own digging, following his own instructions. He could hear the other two having a discussion. Lord Jonquil had ample praise for his little helper. Adam was full of questions. The boy didn’t seem to know whether he liked the feel of damp soil under his feet. He outright said he didn’t want any on his hands.
Lord Jonquil laughed and said he’d always liked getting dirty. That was another odd thing about this lord. All the Quality Howard had interacted with appreciated gardens for their beauty or their abundance, but few had any interest in doing the work themselves.
Once Adam was focused on his digging efforts, Howard opened up the topic they’d come to the garden to discuss. “Has your Nurse Robbie talked to you of the Twelfth Night traditions I shared with her?” he asked.
“She told me it wasn’t fair to require her to make a list when I could just ask you.” That didn’t seem to meet with the young duke’s approval. “She was very stubborn about it.”
Howard thought he understood. Just as Lord Jonquil had brought the boy to the garden in an attempt to broker peace between him and the man he likely feared was stealing his nursemaid away, Robbie was attempting to nudge them toward something of a ceasefire as well.
“I’m happy enough to share with you what we did when I was child,” Howard said.
Adam looked to Lord Jonquil, a question clear in his expression. Lord Jonquil gave him silent encouragement to push forward.
“What is a person meant to do on Twelfth Night?” Adam asked but didn’t deign to look at Howard.
“The wonderful thing about Twelfth Night,” Howard said, “is that the entire purpose is enjoyment. It is the final day of the Christmas season, the last evening of revelry before the new year begins. Twelfth Night is a night for games, merriment, and music. You mentioned you and your father ate cake on Twelfth Night. Cake is a must. This was, in fact, the only day in the entire year when my family ate cake.”
Adam’s eyes pulled a little wide. “The only one?”
Howard didn’t think this the appropriate time to discuss the realities of poverty, so he wrapped the fact up in a bit of fancy paper. “That made Twelfth Night cake extra special.”
Adam looked to his digging partner. “Did you have cake on Twelfth Night?”
“We most certainly did,” Lord Jonquil said. “And every year I wished ever so hard that I would be the one to find the bean.”
Adam’s confusion grew twentyfold.
“The cake you ate with your father didn’t have a bean?” Howard asked him.
“I’ve never heard of beans in a cake.” Adam had a bit of mud on his hand and eyed it with fiercely drawn brows.
Lord Jonquil mimed flinging the mud off his fingers. Adam did his utmost to manage it. Howard decided to push forward with his explanation of beans in Twelfth Night cakes in an effort to prevent his delighted amusement from showing. Adam had shown himself sensitive about such things.
“Beans in cakes is one of the most specific Twelfth Night traditions.” Howard leaned against the upturned handle of his shovel. “On Twelfth Night, the cake is baked with a bean inside. I have heard some families use dried peas, but ours always used a bean.”
“As did ours,” Lord Jonquil said, continuing to dig with apparent enjoyment.
Adam was watching Howard with great interest.
“While we certainly enjoyed our cake, its purpose is not to be a treat. Its purpose is the bean.” Howard allowed all the excitement he’d felt as a child on Twelfth Night to enter his voice, hoping to fill Adam with a little bit of it. “You see, Your Grace, the person who finds the bean is crowned king or queen for the night.”
His eyes pulled wider. The child did a very good job of hiding his thoughts and feelings, but Howard was getting better at understanding what he kept tucked away.
“As the ruling monarch, that person chooses how the night is spent. The monarch of the evening decides which games to play, which songs to sing, which vignettes should be undertaken.”
“What’s that?” The tiniest bit of breathlessness entered his voice.
“It is another Twelfth Night diversion,” Lord Jonquil answered. “The participants are given a scene or an idea or a story that they are challenged with presenting. They choose poses meant to evoke the idea of it. If the monarch of the evening so wishes, and such things are at hand, they might even piece together costumes of some sort.”
“What is the purpose of vignettes?” Adam asked him.
“Those seeing them are challenged with determining what is being portrayed.”
“I understand about challenges,” Adam said. “My father told me that sometimes we have to do things that are difficult, but it’s the difficulty that gives us pride in accomplishing it.”
“I said it before, Your Grace,” Howard said, “your father was clearly very wise.”
The tiniest of smiles touched the little boy’s scarred face. The moment gifted Howard with an insight into this little one whom he was meant to gain the confidence of. Adam loved his father and was proud of him. He was likely as protective of his father’s memory as he was of his nursemaid’s present. Speaking highly of Robbie would not be difficult at all, but it would make a difference. He needed to not merely speak well of the late duke but also allow Adam to speak well of him.
Howard returned to his digging, suspecting Adam would be more comfortable if he felt his audience wasn’t staring at him.
“Did your father have any favorite tales or stories?” Howard asked. “Perhaps we could use those as vignettes to present in our Twelfth Night celebration.”
“If the monarch of the night wants to,” Adam said.
Howard gave him an approving and impressed smile. “Sorted that rather quickly, didn’t you?”
“I’m very clever.” The declaration was made very matter-of-factly.
“Clever, yes, but you’re not doing nearly as much digging as I am,” Lord Jonquil said with a laugh.
Adam grinned at him. The effect pulled fiercely at Howard’s heart. In that moment he could see the child that lingered behind the heavy heart. There was a naturalness to his smile that told anyone who saw it how joyful and soft a heart lay at the core of this very guarded child. What would become of him if he lost Robbie?
Howard appreciated his beloved’s conundrum. He understood that she cared for Adam and worried about him. He fully appreciated that. Stepping away from the boy must feel very much like stepping away from a child of her own. Howard had assumed that was at the heart of what she was struggling with.
Now he knew better.
This was a child in crisis. He would not simply be sad without Robbie in his life; he would be lost. The glimmer of hopefulness and tenderness that still remained in him would fade away until it was gone. It was little wonder she had clung so much to Howard’s use of the word hope. Adam needed it desperately. Robbie couldn’t feel hopeful herself unless she knew there was reason to believe Adam felt it too.
They had quite a dilemma on their hands.
Adam had resumed his digging. He was small, but he was strong and determined. “What else happens on Twelfth Night?”
“Well, it is also traditional for the tenants of a fine estate to visit the home of the master and mistress who own it.” Howard did his digging as he talked. “They often sing songs, and in exchange, the master and mistress give them drink and food. They are often given coins and other acknowledgments of the season. In some areas of the country, trees are wassailed.”
Again, Adam looked at him with widening eyes. “How does one wassail a tree?”
“Very carefully,” Lord Jonquil said.
In addition to discovering that his current employer enjoyed nature, Howard had very quickly realized the gentleman was exceptionally funny.
“Bread is soaked in wassail,” Howard explained, “and then tossed into the trees. It provides sustenance for the birds. Superstition claims it also brings good luck and an ample harvest.”
“Could we wassail this tree?” Adam pointed to the rowan Howard hoped to have planted by day’s end.
“I don’t see why not,” he said.
Adam turned to Lord Jonquil, eagerness in his expression. “If we wassail your new tree, it will bring you good luck with your new garden. And you and Lady Jonquil can sit in it and be happy. And when your baby is here at Brier Hill, all of you can visit the garden.”
“I think that is an excellent idea,” Lord Jonquil said. “With one change.”
A portion of the boy’s walls immediately began reenforcing themselves.
“You have to promise you will come visit this garden too,” Lord Jonquil said, resting a hand on Adam’s shoulder.
The boy’s gaze dropped to the dirt at his feet. “This isn’t my house. I’m not part of your family.”
Lord Jonquil knelt in front of him, setting his hands on the boy’s arms. “Family is who you choose, Adam Boyce. Julia and I, we have chosen you. That makes you family to us. When you are away at school, we will be family. When we travel to Nottinghamshire to see our parents, you and Lady Jonquil and I will be family. Every time you visit us, be it here or anywhere else, we will be family.”
“I would like that,” he said with a little break in his voice.
“And your dear Nurse Robbie, she is your family, no matter where she is and no matter where you are. You are family because you choose to be.”
