“Mother, I never thought you were such a snob. You and Father always welcomed friends of all ilk to our house.”
His mother’s lips thinned. “That was on the continent. It’s different here at home, and you now have the title.”
Max was disappointed in her attitude. His parents had always filled their house with guests for lavish parties—artists, politicians, lords and ladies, famous actors. His mother loved to entertain, and she developed friendships every new place his father had been sent. Max wasn’t sure what this new attitude was about, but he wasn’t pleased.
“Mother, Henry and Olivia had been friends since childhood. It makes sense that their close friendship would turn into love. I know she is still mourning her husband. I would think that is something you could sympathize with.”
His mother’s blue eyes softened, and her mouth relaxed from its disproving frown. She ran a shaky hand down her skirt, smoothing out invisible wrinkles. “All I’m saying is it’s improper for her to live here still.”
Max nodded. “She and I have discussed this, and she is figuring out her next steps. Henry left her a sizable portion. She does not care for London, so she may settle somewhere close by as she has many friends in this community. I’m certainly not going to kick her out before Christmas. She was once my friend as well.” Max knew his voice rose as he spoke. All the women looked startled by his tone. He couldn’t help but defend Olivia. She had no one else to do so.
Grand-mère was the first to speak. “Of course, you shouldn’t abruptly eject her from her home.” She sent a narrow look to his mother. “We are here now as a buffer for respectability. I think we should all enjoy Christmastide and worry about the details later. She seems very nice, dear.”
“I think it sounds romantic, childhood friends to lovers.” Ginny sighed.
Max’s heart ached at her words. That should have been their story, his and Livvy’s.Damn you, Henry, for stealing her away and for dying and leaving her alone with a broken heart.
Chapter Fifteen
“Thank you, Mrs.Peabody. You have been a gem preparing the house for Lord Rivenhall’s family,” Olivia said to her housekeeper as they finished up their morning meeting.
“My pleasure, my lady. I will have to bring on help for the kitchen now that I’m not just cooking for you. I was thinking of Mrs. Buxley’s niece. She is young but has her aunt’s talent in the kitchen.”
Olivia nodded. “I defer to your judgment. One more thing, Lord Rivenhall’s mother would like to throw a Christmas Eve dinner party to introduce him to local society.” She grimaced. The party was the only thing Mrs. Drake and her daughters talked about at dinner last night. She had a terrible feeling it would be much grander than the intimate dinner party she had envisioned when she suggested it. Even Mr. Galey had betrayed her and enthusiastically agreed that a party was an excellent idea. “Please accommodate whatever she needs for the party. I would like to have as little to do with it as possible.”
Mrs. Peabody’s expression was neutral and professional, but there was an excited gleam in her eye. Olivia suspected that her housekeeper missed the frivolity of Christmas at Belhaven. “Yes, milady. I will take care of it.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Peabody. I think that is all for this morning.”
She rose as Mrs. Peabody left and wandered over to her chair by the window. It was clear and cold outside. It had snowed overnight, adding several inches to the ground. Condensation fogged the windowpane, and she drew the shape of a small dove with her finger. She should take the sleigh and go to the bookstore to continue her reorganization efforts. But she wasn’t in the mood. Perhaps she should just snuggle up here and read. She didn’t have to face the world if she never left her rooms. She sighed; who was she fooling? She was avoiding Max, her feelings, and her fears about what to do with herself after the new year. The first she could avoid by staying in her room, but the other two were harder to avoid. Later this afternoon, her friends would be coming by to discuss the new letters, and she was looking forward to the distraction.
Until then, she would not hide. Olivia turned and squared her shoulders. She would simply go downstairs and check on her guests. She was still the lady of the house, for now anyway, and she would not neglect her duties as hostess. Smoothing her hair, she reached for the doorknob and exited the room. Halfway down the corridor, the door to one of the linen closets was open. Olivia approached and peeked around the wooden door. Max stepped out of the closet at the same moment. She let out an embarrassing squeak of surprise.
“Max, what in heaven’s name are you doing in the closet?”
His trademark grin spread wide. He held up his hands, displaying several pairs of ice-skating blades. “I am taking my sisters skating this morning. Care to join us?”
“No.” She crossed her arms in front of her chest. Ice-skating with Max? No, too many fond memories. Too dangerous for her heart.
“Come along. It will be fun.” The warmth of his smile lit his whole face. His eyes glowed with mischief and the promise of fun. He jiggled the blades. “I found four pairs.”
She shook her head even though she was tempted. Damn him and his charming smile.
Max shrugged. “Well, I suppose you can stay here and help my mother and grandmother plan the Christmas Eve party. They did inquire about your whereabouts this morning at breakfast.”
Olivia swallowed hard. Double damn. “Fine. Skating it is. I will need to change into something warmer.”
“We will wait for you downstairs in the foyer. Don’t look so grim. Don’t you remember how much fun it is to watch me make a fool of myself on the ice? I look like a geriatric penguin.”
Oliva turned on her heel before he could see her smile. Back inside her room, she added warm wool stockings under her skirts and layered on a knit sweater before donning her half-boots. She headed downstairs and was met by three identical smiles. There was no doubt of their familial status. All three siblings shared wide full-lipped mouths, sharp cheekbones, and golden eyes. Max and his sisters were already in coats, fur-lined capes, gloves, and muffs. Olivia joined them, and Mr. Daniels appeared at her elbow with her cape, fur-lined bonnet, gloves, and muff.
Outside, the sleigh was waiting, and they piled in. Foot bricks placed on the floor and blankets piled in one corner all waited to keep them warm. It was cold, but there was no wind, the perfect day for skating. The coachman flicked the reins, and they moved forward across the snow-covered lawns. It had been ages since she had been ice-skating. She had to admit a small flurry of excitement swirled in her belly. The pond was on the west side of the property near her old house. Mr. Johnson and his family lived on the other side of the pond, and he farmed the fields surrounding it. He had seven children and took it upon himself to monitor the thickness of the ice. He always tacked up a painted wood sign that marked the pond safe to skate.
“Did you ask Mr. Daniels if he knew that the pond was safe to skate?” she asked Max.
“No, should I have?”
“Mr. Johnson always monitors the ice to make sure it’s thick enough to skate safely. Often in December, it can be too thin.” Olivia glanced at his sisters. “We’ll be able to tell when we arrive. He always posts a sign with a painting of an ice-skating bear on it when the ice is thick enough.”