Christmas Forevermore, page 23
Samuel raised an eyebrow with a teasing smile. “Am I to assume that you see our dinner conversation as nonsense?”
She almost denied it but decided to speak her mind instead. “Well, the two of you have been speaking of our old neighbor’s pesky cat for at least ten minutes.” Growing up, Samuel, William, and Hannah had been followed around by the cat almost every day. They had done all they could to direct it elsewhere, but it always returned to them.
Mama’s forehead wrinkled with dismay. “Hannah.”
“No, no, she is right. The subject has run its course.” Samuel chuckled, taking a drink from his cup. “What is it you would like to speak of, Hannah?” His eyes peeked at her from behind the rim of his glass, a challenge hovering in them.
Was this a game? She and Samuel had often spoken of silly, nonsensical things together, each of them feeding off the other. Perhaps this was another one of those moments. She searched her mind for something related to the Christmastide. “I should like to speak of mistletoe.”
Samuel did not seem surprised in the least, keeping an even expression. He rubbed his chin. “Ah, that is a subject of great curiosity. What is it about mistletoe that intrigues you?”
Mama’s eyes were round, and William’s mouth was quirked upward with amusement. He likely recalled all the conversations like this one that Samuel and Hannah had shared in the past. Hannah tapped her own chin, feigning deep thought. “Well, I find it quite interesting that the plant is toxic if consumed. I also find it to be a very beautiful plant, but I suppose the most interesting part of mistletoe is the tradition surrounding it.”
“Yes, kissing.” Samuel smiled when he said the word kissing, as if he already knew the effect it would have on Hannah. She couldn’t be embarrassed to hear that word, not now that she was about to be a fully grown lady presented in London. But there was something about hearing the word from his lips that made the tips of her ears grow hot. But she was the one who had brought up this subject, so she couldn’t be the one to end it.
“I find the tradition quite strange. If two people want to kiss one another, why do they need a bundle of leaves and berries to give them permission?”
“Hannah,” Mama scolded again, eyes still round. If there were any other people observing the conversation, Hannah would seem a very scandalous young lady indeed.
“Come now, Mama,” William said as he waved his hand. “This conversation is quite diverting. Please let it continue.” He wouldn’t stand for any such conversation while she was in London, but with Samuel, he clearly didn’t see any risk.
Mama’s posture relaxed as she smiled a little. “Very well.” It seemed she was secretly just as entertained as her son.
Samuel gave a resolute nod. “You make an interesting point. I think if two people wish to kiss, they do not need a mistletoe, if they are brave enough. But the mistletoe serves two important purposes, I believe.”
“And what are these two purposes?” Hannah asked.
“First, if two people already wish to kiss one another but haven’t found the right opportunity, the mistletoe readily provides it.”
“That is true.” Hannah nodded.
“Second, if two people who have never thought of kissing one another find themselves beneath a mistletoe accidentally, they might come to a realization they hadn’t before—that they do want to kiss one another.” He smiled, raising an eyebrow at the same time.
Hannah’s stomach fluttered. She certainly didn’t need a mistletoe to know she wanted to kiss Samuel. But no matter how their conversation was affecting her on the inside, she needed to pretend it wasn’t. With a smooth expression, she mused, “Hmm, I suppose you have convinced me of the mistletoe’s purpose, but I still find it quite curious that the plant is toxic. Can there be some sort of symbolism in this? Perhaps it is a warning that to kiss beneath the mistletoe is rather dangerous. It might act as a warning not to take such a kiss seriously, for risk of losing your heart to someone who wanted only a kiss and nothing more.”
Samuel was silent for a long moment, taking another drink from his cup. “I think you may be right. It is probably best to avoid mistletoe altogether, and I think your mother and William would agree.”
Mama nodded immediately.
William simply laughed. Surely he wasn’t one to avoid a mistletoe kiss.
Hannah’s cheeks grew hot. “That was my intention,” she said quickly. “At any rate, the only men in this house are servants, my own brother, and you, and you are practically my brother as well.” She grimaced as she sipped from her cup. There was no longer any point in trying to convince him otherwise. He was marrying someone else, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. He had made a promise to his uncle that couldn’t be broken. It would make her feel better to convince everyone—including herself—that her feelings toward Samuel were nonexistent.
Samuel gave an amused smile—one he tried to hide behind his cup. But she saw it. Did he know she was lying? He must have suspected something of her regard when they were younger and she followed him everywhere like a puppy. Her chest sparked with anger. She refused to have him think that she was a heartbroken little girl over the news of his upcoming marriage. It would be her objective over the next few weeks to ensure Samuel thought the opposite. She would act excited over his news, happy, and show him that she did not care one bit who he married.
By the end of Christmastide, Samuel needed to think, without a doubt, that she didn’t want him and that she never had.
Chapter 3
Wrapping her cloak more tightly around herself, Hannah slipped through the back door of Cranfield. She had hardly slept the night before, so if she was to remain alert throughout the day, she needed a bit of cold air to help her. She breathed deeply, already feeling the tingle of the lowered temperature on her nose and the tips of her ears.
What should she explore first? The property stretched far in all directions, and there was little snow on the ground to stop her from walking. The grass was coated in a thick layer of frost, crunching under her boots as she started in the direction of what looked like a small barn or a hut of some sort.
She moved with quick steps, elevating the rate of her heart and giving her body a little warmth. The faster she walked, the better she felt. All the emotion she had been contending with since the day before was rising off her like steam. She had shed her last tears over Samuel into her pillow the night before. There would be no more of that. She didn’t have to mourn him—he could still be her friend. She had only been mourning the idea of what might have been.
She let out a gasp when she nearly stepped on a flustered hen. Hannah jumped back, watching as the hen fluttered its ruffled feathers and clucked with dismay. Its tan feathers looked golden against the white frost.
“What are you doing out here?” Hannah asked. “You’ll get eaten by a wolf.” She didn’t know if there were actually wolves in the woods bordering the estate, but imagining such a thing was rather thrilling.
She reached out to scoop up the hen, but it clucked and pecked at her hand. Hannah snapped her arm back, raising a scolding finger. “I’m trying to help you!”
The hen waddled away, legs moving much more quickly than she would have imagined possible. She followed it, breaking into a run and snatching it up from behind. The hen squirmed for a moment before holding still, allowing her to hold it close to her chest.
Had it come from the barn? She continued along her path toward it, holding the chicken tight to keep it from leaping out of her arms. As she came closer to the barn—which did look more like a hut, with its windows and stone details—she noticed a stream of smoke curling out of the chimney. Did someone live there? She hesitated for a long moment before knocking on the door.
Only a few seconds passed before the door swung open.
“Samuel?” Hannah met his gaze, her momentary surprise causing her grip on the hen to loosen. The bird squirmed and clucked, falling without a hint of grace to the ground. It collected its footing and took off to the left.
“Come back here!” Hannah turned, chasing it for several yards until she was able to scoop it up again. When she turned around, her cheeks were hot with embarrassment. Samuel had seemed just as surprised to find her knocking as she had been to see him answer the door. She managed to cool her cheeks as she walked back to the front door of the hut. A laugh hovered in Samuel’s brown eyes as she approached. His clothes were casual, his cravat missing, and his curly dark hair was less tame than it had been the day before. So was his smile.
“I see you have found yourself a friend.” He chuckled.
“At the moment, this hen and I are not friends,” she grumbled as the chicken squirmed again. A strand of hair had fallen over Hannah’s eyes, but she couldn’t brush it away while holding the hen at the same time. She blew a puff of air upward in an attempt to clear it from her face, but it didn’t work. Why hadn’t she put on a bonnet? She hadn’t expected to meet anyone on her early-morning exploration, especially not Samuel.
He stepped outside the door a few paces, stopping just in front of her. To her surprise, he casually brushed the hair away from her eyes before taking the hen from her arms. She stared at him, willing herself to appear unaffected by his touch. She didn’t know whether to thank him or not, so she simply remained quiet. Her rebellious heart still yearned for his attention, telling her silly things she shouldn’t believe. Couldn’t he have just taken the hen, therefore freeing her hands so she could brush the hair from her own eyes? Had he wanted to do it himself? She shushed her wayward thoughts.
“I found it wandering all alone,” she said. “I wondered if this was a barn of sorts.” She gestured at the small building.
“It’s where I do my carving,” Samuel said with a proud smile. “Before inheriting this house, I never had a place like this to work.”
“The chicken doesn’t belong here?”
He shook his head. “No. It must belong to one of my tenants.” He motioned toward the door. “Come inside for a moment. I’ll show you.”
Hannah followed him, surprised by the size of the interior of the hut. It was open and clean, with plenty of room for him to work. A chair, table, and various tools stood at the center of the space, piles of wood shavings and pieces strewn across the floor. Daylight came through the windows, and two candles were lit, as well as a fire burning in the small hearth, filling the space with warmth and plenty of light.
“This is lovely,” Hannah said as she looked around. She met Samuel’s gaze.
He smiled. “I have never considered it lovely before, but now that you say it, I must agree.”
She scoffed. “You cannot fault me for my feminine choice of words.”
“It is not a fault at all. It’s endearing.” He spoke the compliment so casually, much like how he had brushed her hair from her forehead. She watched his back as he stooped over and set the hen on the floor.
As a boy, Samuel had often spoken of his grandfather, who had been a wood-carver by profession. Samuel’s father had made a better living for himself, but Samuel’s older brother had inherited the trade. Samuel had considered following in his grandfather’s path as well, but now it seemed that wood carving was simply an entertaining pastime for him. She walked closer to the table, gasping when she saw the intricate round frame on top of it.
“You did this?”
He gave a modest smile. “Do you like it?”
“It is . . . well, it is lovely.”
He laughed. “I have spent many hours learning since you last saw my work.”
“Yes, I can see that you have improved significantly.”
“Significantly? Was my elephant not in line with the level of skill you see now?” The teasing glint in his eyes made her smile stretch wider.
“Oh yes. I had nearly forgotten the beauty of that project.” She grinned at the thought of the little toys he would often carve while he sat with William and Hannah outside. He had once made a toy elephant that William had teased him about for years. It hadn’t looked at all like an elephant. “But now that you have reminded me,” she continued, “I regret that I must be the one to tell you that your skill has actually worsened. Nothing compares to the majesty of that elephant.”
Samuel stood on the opposite side of the table, tracing his finger along the edge of his frame as he laughed. “I always knew you liked it, despite what William tried to make you believe.”
She had always loved it. Not because it was an attractive toy by any means, but because Samuel had loved it. Because he had worked hard to make it with his own hands. She reminded herself that she was supposed to make him think she didn’t view him with such sentiment. “I confess, it did look more like a plump sheep than an elephant. Perhaps like a sheep who ate another sheep.”
Samuel threw his head back with a laugh before his features became serious again. “That was my intention. I told everyone it was an elephant only in order not to appear mad.”
“I will keep your secret, but for a price.” Hannah loved how relaxed she felt with him again. It seemed like no time at all had passed since they had laughed together, usually at his expense or hers. Sometimes William’s.
“What is your price?” Samuel asked, true curiosity burning in his gaze.
Hannah hadn’t thought that far yet. She had simply been keeping the banter going without any idea of what she might ask for. What did she need from Samuel that he could actually give her? She tapped her chin in exaggerated thought.
“May I make a suggestion?” he said after several seconds of silence.
Hannah raised her eyebrows. “Are you going to suggest that hen?” She pointed at the hen that still wandered the hut without rest.
“No, though I know the creature is your heart’s desire.” He flashed a teasing smile. “I’ll allow you to make the schedule for our Christmastide festivities. You can plan how we spend the entire fortnight.”
Hannah crossed her arms. “That seems like I am offering you a service.”
“Well . . . I thought you might find it enjoyable. Most women like planning creative activities, do they not?”
Hannah smiled to herself. He had called her a woman, not a girl. “I do.”
“Think of any Christmastide activity, and I will ensure it is done on any day of your choosing. I want you to enjoy your time at Cranfield in the country before you are sent to London for months.” Samuel’s eyes were soft and caring, and it cut straight past the defenses Hannah had spent all night building around her heart.
She hadn’t been free to express to anyone her dread toward going to London. She couldn’t tell William how much she dreaded it, because he had spent so much money and time to ensure she could go. He was so invested in the Season, in more ways than one. Mama agreed with William, and none of Hannah’s friends shared her distress at having to go. They were all eager and giddy, yet nothing of the idea of London seemed worthy of Hannah’s excitement. “I am told London is delightful,” she said in a flat voice. “What should I have to dread?”
Samuel stared at her from across the table, a heavy look in his eyes. “It is not my place to tell you whether or not to listen to William, but promise me that you will not lose yourself. You know your own mind. Do not be manipulated. Don’t lose sight of who you are and what your heart tells you.” He paused. “Do not make any hasty decisions like I did.”
Was he speaking of her choice of a husband? He had hastily agreed to marry Miss Merchant, so that must have been what he meant. Her heart stung. She didn’t want Samuel to be forever unhappy in his marriage. She, on the other hand, was doomed to such a fate, unless she happened to fall in love with one of the men William would choose for her. That seemed impossible, though, especially when she was standing here with Samuel.
“I will not lose myself. I promise.” Hannah wasn’t entirely certain what he’d meant by that, but it seemed important to him.
He gave a soft smile. “Good.” He walked across the room to where the hen had cornered itself by the door. He scooped it up with much less effort than it had taken Hannah. “Now, before the others in the house are awake, shall we return this hen to its home?”
Hannah didn’t know how wise it was to continue spending time with Samuel alone. But they were childhood friends, and her family was staying on the property. No scandal could be assumed by Mama or William if she and Samuel did happen to be seen together. No harm could come from it besides harm that had already been done years ago. Hannah wouldn’t love him less by avoiding him. Her feelings were fixed and constant. She could not be rid of them; she could only bury them and continue showing him that she was his friend.
So she smiled. “Very well. I shall be glad to be rid of it.”
Chapter 4
The hen wriggled in Samuel’s arms almost the entire walk. He suspected it had wandered from the Browns’ residence—a small cottage nearby. The walk took only ten minutes, but he wouldn’t have cared if it had taken longer. He and Hannah had been laughing almost the entire way.
He glanced over at her, studying the bashful smile on her face as she looked down at the ground. Her cheeks and the tip of her nose were flushed from the cold, and her green eyes were alive and bright. He could hardly look away from them. Each time she glanced his way, especially while she was smiling, he was completely captured, helpless to escape. She would take London by storm, that much was certain. He could only hope she would take his advice and that the man she chose would be worthy of her.
