Page 7 of Christmas with the Earl (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #1)

Tinsel and Tension

T he great hall of Greystowe had been transformed into what could only be described as a battlefield of holiday preparation.

Evergreen boughs lay scattered across tables, ribbons in various states of untangling draped over chairs, and an impressive collection of ornaments—some clearly precious family heirlooms, others charmingly handmade—awaited deployment throughout the vast space.

Nell stood in the center of it all, surveying the organized chaos with the eye of a general planning a campaign.

She had approached the decoration of the hall with the same thoroughness she brought to any project, but the sheer scale of Greystowe's great room presented challenges she hadn't anticipated at her family's more modest estate.

"I believe we may have been overly ambitious," she admitted to Lady Greystowe, who was seated near the fire with a cup of tea and an expression of serene satisfaction.

"Nonsense, my dear. It simply requires a proper strategy." Lady Greystowe gestured toward the soaring stone fireplace that dominated one end of the hall. "Start with the mantelpiece as your focal point, then work outward. Thomas should be along shortly to assist with the higher placements."

As if summoned by his aunt's words, Thomas appeared in the doorway, surveying the scene with what Nell was beginning to recognize as his standard assessment expression. Today, however, she thought she detected a hint of amusement beneath his military bearing.

"I see you've mobilized for a full-scale assault on Christmas decoration," he observed, stepping carefully around a particularly elaborate garland that had somehow migrated to the floor.

"Your aunt believes in thoroughness," Nell replied, attempting to untangle a particularly stubborn length of ribbon. "Though I'm beginning to suspect she may have overestimated my organizational capabilities."

"Unlikely." Thomas moved to assist her with the ribbon, his fingers working with surprising dexterity to free the silk from its knots. "From what I observed yesterday, your capabilities are quite impressive when properly applied."

Nell arched a brow. “A rare compliment, my lord.”

“Not so rare,” he murmured, glancing toward the tall window that overlooked the front drive. “I once spent a week convincing my commanding officer that a half-frozen terrier was a suitable regimental mascot.”

“Did he agree?”

“He relented. The dog outranked several lieutenants by the end of the year.”

Nell laughed, caught off guard by the warmth in his voice. “I wouldn’t have imagined you the sentimental sort.”

“I’m not,” he replied evenly. “But some things deserve loyalty.”

The compliment, delivered in his matter-of-fact tone, brought a warm bloom to Nell's cheeks. She found herself studying his hands as he worked—strong, capable hands that bore small scars from his military service but moved with surprising gentleness when handling delicate things.

"There," he said, presenting her with the freed ribbon. "Though I confess I'm not entirely certain what comes next in this particular campaign."

"The mantelpiece," Nell said, grateful to have a concrete task to focus on. "Lady Greystowe suggests we begin there and work outward."

"A sound strategy. Secure your stronghold first, then expand your territory." Thomas gathered an armload of evergreen boughs and moved toward the massive fireplace. "I assume you have a vision for how this should appear when completed?"

Nell followed him, her own arms full of holly and ivy. "Something elegant but welcoming. Not too formal, but befitting the grandeur of the space." She paused, considering. "Isabella always said Christmas decorations should make a room feel like home, regardless of how grand it might be."

Thomas had climbed onto a chair to reach the higher portions of the mantelpiece, but he paused at her words. "She had a gift for making places feel welcoming. Even during the brief time I knew her, that was evident."

Nell smiled faintly. “Yes, she was everyone’s bright star.”

Thomas glanced at her, something unreadable flickering across his face. “Some stars burn too brightly to last.”

She froze. Was that meant as sympathy or judgment? The thought unsettled her more than she cared to admit. She bent over a bundle of ivy, grateful for the distraction.

“Did you visit often when she was alive?” Nell asked, surprising herself with her boldness.

“Only once, I’m ashamed to say,” Thomas replied, arranging branches along the stone shelf with a note of regret. “Military duties kept me away more than I’d have liked. I missed a great deal of family happiness during those years.”

Thomas's voice carried a note of regret as he arranged branches along the stone shelf. "Military duties kept me away more than I would have liked. I rather suspect I missed a great deal of family happiness during those years."

Something in his tone made Nell look up at him more closely. There was a wistfulness in his expression that she hadn't seen before, a suggestion that his absence from Greystowe Hall had been as much a loss as a duty.

"Well, you're here now," she said gently. "That must count for something."

Thomas glanced down at her, and for a moment, their eyes met and held. There was something unguarded in his expression, a vulnerability that made her breath catch slightly.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I suppose it does."

The moment stretched between them, filled with an awareness that had nothing to do with Christmas decorations and everything to do with the slow shift in understanding that had been building since their expedition into the snow.

"If you two are quite finished having a moment," Lady Greystowe's voice cut through their reverie with obvious amusement, "I believe the ivy requires attention before it wilts entirely."

Nell felt heat flood her cheeks as she turned back to her work, but not before she caught sight of Thomas's slightly reddened ears as he resumed his own task with perhaps more vigor than necessary.

"Of course," Nell managed, focusing intently on the arrangement of ivy leaves as though it were the most crucial task in the world. "The ivy. Absolutely."

For the next hour, they worked in companionable efficiency, with Thomas handling the higher placements while Nell managed the more detailed arrangements at eye level.

Lady Greystowe provided commentary and suggestions from her chair by the fire, occasionally rising to inspect their progress with the air of a benevolent commanding officer.

The work itself proved surprisingly enjoyable. Thomas's systematic approach complemented Nell's artistic instincts, and they developed an easy rhythm of communication—a gesture here, a brief consultation there, an occasional shared smile when a particularly stubborn branch finally cooperated.

"The garland along the staircase will require both of you," Lady Greystowe announced when they had finished with the mantelpiece. "The banister is too long for one person to manage alone, and the draping must be even if it's to look proper."

Nell eyed the sweeping staircase that curved gracefully to the upper floors. The banister was indeed impressive—polished oak that gleamed in the firelight—but the prospect of decorating its entire length seemed daunting.

"We'll need to coordinate our efforts," Thomas said, following her gaze. "You take one end, I'll take the other, and we'll work toward the middle."

"That sounds reasonable," Nell agreed, though she was already anticipating the logistical challenges. "Though we'll need to maintain consistent spacing, or the effect will be uneven."

"Naturally." Thomas gathered up the longest of their prepared garlands, testing its weight and flexibility. "Military operations have taught me the importance of precise coordination."

"This is hardly a military operation," Nell pointed out with amusement.

"You'd be surprised how many principles apply," Thomas replied with what she was almost certain was a hint of a smile. "Preparation, coordination, and adaptability when circumstances change unexpectedly."

"And what happens when circumstances change unexpectedly in Christmas decorating?"

"Improvisation," Thomas said promptly. "And occasionally, strategic retreat."

Despite herself, Nell laughed. "I shall keep that in mind should we encounter any decorative emergencies."

They positioned themselves at opposite ends of the banister and began the careful process of draping the garland.

It required constant communication—"A bit higher on your end," "Can you give me more length here?

" "How does the spacing look from your angle?

"—and more coordination than Nell had anticipated.

The real challenge came when they reached the curve in the staircase where the banister swept in an elegant arc. Suddenly, they found themselves working in much closer proximity, having to pass the garland back and forth while navigating around each other in the confined space.

"If you could just..." Thomas began, reaching around her to adjust the draping.

"I think it needs to..." Nell started at the same moment, turning directly into his path.

They collided gently, Thomas's steadying hands catching her waist while hers instinctively came up to rest against his chest. For a moment, they stood frozen in an inadvertent embrace, the forgotten garland draped around them both like some sort of Christmas conspiracy.

Nell found herself looking up into Thomas's gray eyes, noting the way they seemed darker in the shadows of the staircase, the way his breath created small puffs of warmth in the cooler air near the windows.

She was acutely aware of the solid strength of his chest beneath her palms, the way his hands remained steady at her waist as though he were reluctant to let her go.

"I..." she began, though she had no idea what she intended to say.

"Yes," Thomas replied, as though she had asked a question rather than stammered an incomplete thought.

His voice was quiet, but there was something in it—something unspoken and tentative—that made her wonder what exactly he had answered.

The sound of slow, deliberate applause from the direction of the fireplace broke the spell. They sprang apart as though the garland had caught fire, both turning to see Lady Greystowe watching them with an expression of poorly concealed delight.

"Beautifully executed," she said with perfect composure. "Though I believe the garland may require some adjustment after that... collaboration."

Nell felt as though her face might actually combust from embarrassment. She bent quickly to retrieve the scattered greenery, grateful for the excuse to avoid looking at either Thomas or his aunt.

"Quite right," Thomas said, his voice carefully neutral—though Nell caught that faint catch, that near-mistake he didn’t quite cover. "We should... that is, the garland..."

Lady Greystowe, ever the master of timing, chose that moment to speak. "Indeed. Though I daresay, if your collaboration becomes any more... spirited, we may need to hang mistletoe after all."

The word 'mistletoe' seemed to hang in the air with as much significance as the plant itself might have done. Nell risked a glance at Thomas and found him looking directly at her with an expression she couldn't quite interpret—part amusement, part something else entirely.

"I believe," Thomas said carefully, "that we should focus on completing our current decorations before considering additional... botanical elements."

"Of course," Lady Greystowe replied, but her smile suggested she found the entire situation thoroughly satisfactory. "Though I do think we've made excellent progress for one morning. Perhaps we might continue after luncheon?"

As they gathered their materials and prepared to retire to the dining room, Nell found herself stealing glances at Thomas. The easy camaraderie of their morning's work had shifted into something more complex, more charged with possibilities she wasn't entirely sure she was ready to examine.

But as they walked toward the dining room, Thomas fell into step beside her, and when their shoulders brushed briefly in the doorway, neither of them moved away.

Perhaps, Nell thought, some possibilities were worth exploring after all.