Page 19 of Once Upon a Gilded Christmas (To All The Earls I’ve Loved Before #4)

After a much-needed luncheon, Lady Hammond had an afternoon of music planned.

Honora groaned. Juliana's talents lay in other directions.

Even then, after the events of this morning, she doubted anyone would be inviting her up to perform.

It didn't help that she'd done more than her fair share of helping Bertram and Lady Lucy finish off a too-generous bottle of champagne.

All the chairs had been brought in to the music room, settled in a double-circle about the centre.

The music room was rather well-stocked with a fortepiano, a harpsichord and a few other instruments Honora couldn’t identify.

Maybe a viol? Besides that, Lady Hammond had all the latest popular sheet music.

While all the young ladies clapped and gleefully perused the collection, some of the young men inspected the instruments, a few of them poking at the keys.

Juliana was not among them. While her daughter had had music lessons while at finishing school, it never sank into her soul.

Even now, she chose to sit toward the back of the room, her head close to that of young Bertram, deep in conversation. Juliana actually had a smile on her face.

Interesting. It had been like that at dinner last night as well, not to mention this morning. Could it be she had found a suitable match? Honora would have to sound out his father. Her daughter’s demeanour toward this young man was the complete opposite of her ire for the Earl of Lavistock's sons.

As for them, they seemed a little more sober this afternoon. Edward must have had some strong words for them.

Edward entered the room, brightening it immediately.

Honora couldn’t help but smile as soon as she saw his face.

She sat up straighter in her chair. He made a beeline to his sons, had a quick, quiet word in their ears, and watched them separate and spread out.

Jacob immediately went up to the young ladies pawing through the music.

He cleared his throat and asked them, quite diplomatically, what titles and tunes Lady Hammond had provided.

Right thing to say, apparently, as all of them weighed in at once.

Kendal, on the other hand, sat at the fortepiano and studied its keys. He pressed one note, which sounded out, then ran a quick, skilful scale.

Huh. The boy could play. Next, he picked out the melody line. It took her a moment to recognise "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks By Night". Just the melody and a harmony trickled from his fingers. Yet with those simple notes, in a few moments, he evoked the spirit of the Holiday Season.

Her grandmother used to play the spinet.

Every Christmas, when the family was gathered to her home, she'd insist on carols the whole day.

Her reasoning, with holy music in the home, one would think to pass Christmas more worthily.

It was not until she had married Lord Charles and became subject to his mother's idea of passing Christmas by being subject to tedious Bible-reading, that she wholly appreciated her grandmother's choice.

It was not so much the scriptural passages that Honora objected to, but rather that the Dowager Countess insisted on doing the reading herself, droning on and on in her monotone voice, until even she drifted off to sleep.

Honora missed the happy Christmasses of her childhood.

How could she hold such a heavy heart toward Kendall with such evocative music coming from his hands?

Between this and the snow this morning, for the first time in a long time, Honora had Christmas in her heart.

She followed Kendall's tune, one of her favourites.

"I did not know you could sing," said Edward.

Honora shook herself; she'd been lost in the music. "Sing?"

Ah, Edward! How he lit up her heart. "You were humming."

She averred. "Memories from my youth."

"Like this morning?"

She nodded. "Like this morning. How are you after your perambulation in the snow?” she asked.

He sat in the chair next to her, easing himself carefully. “Not bad. I did not slip once.” They looked to the window, where the curtains themselves had been pulled back to let in the light of the afternoon. “It’s a shame the snow didn’t last too long.”

“Ever too brief.” She would never see snow again and not think of Edward. “And your sons? I hope they are not too put out from this morning? I should apologise for my Juliana, but I fear if she learnt of it, she’d be most put out with me. I doubt there’s a sorry bone in her body.”

He took her hand. “Do not fash yourself about it. In truth, my boy deserved that. Though I recommend she not make a habit of it. He has sisters aplenty already.”

Lady Hammond had heard Kendall poking about the keys of the fortepiano. “Do not think I can’t recognise Clementi. Scoot yourself over boy. I’ll play secondo.”

Edward sighed. “I tell him to pick up his game with the young ladies, and what does he do? Draws the attention of the oldest lady in the room.”

Honora watched poor Kendall meekly scoot to the treble end of the piano.

Lady Hammond counted him off. Together, they began a duet.

Well-matched music filled the room. Honora knew this one.

She'd heard it in concert before. It was a popular one brought out several times during the Season whenever a young lady was too shy to play the piano on her own.

“He is surprisingly good," Honora confessed. "I did not think young men saw the need to master an instrument.” At least Kendall had one redeeming feature.

Edward explained, “Their mother insisted."

Honora glanced to Juliana, who watched Kendall, weighing him, measuring him. Likewise, Bertram studied him, his expression unfathomable. Juliana leaned over, whispered something to Bertram. Whatever she asked, he shook his head in reply.

Determination set on Juliana’s face. She patted Bertram’s fleshy knee and gave him a low declaration. She might not have heard the words, but Honora knew Juliana felt the need to one-up Kendall.

She’d only put a stop to it if Juliana took it beyond a mere performance. It would do no one any good for these two to erupt in an argument again.

Kendall and Lady Hammond finished their duet to the polite applause of the gathered party.

But as Juliana rose to defend her pride, the other young ladies acted first, pushing Jacob forward.

“Please do,” they declared, elbowing Kendall out of the way.

They all but carried him to the fortepiano’s bench.

Lady Lucy propped up the selected sheet music.

“I’ve never been able to master the development. "

Instead of politely returning to the provided seats, they gathered about the instrument as if they were in a common public house.

Jacob looked bemused, but not afraid. “If that is what you wish,” he replied to them all.

As one, they nodded most eagerly.

Without hesitation, Jacob launched into the opening bars of a sonata she did not recognise. One thing was for sure; Jacob knew what he was doing. His fingers glided over the keys effortlessly, bringing out some of the most beautiful music to grace this room.

Honora had never heard this piece—not that she had had many opportunities to attend musicales or concerts this past year.

Edward, on the other hand, tapped his foot in time to the music.

He confided to Honora, “It took him nearly the year to master this particular piece by Herr Beethoven. I am so glad his practice is paying off.”

In many ways, Honora had to admit. The young ladies clustered about the fortepiano had been captured by his spell. She, too, had been drawn in in ways she’d not expected. Jacob’s playing was so beautiful.

While the Mildmay home had a harpsichord—every noble household needed a musical instrument—Juliana never was one much for music. Certainly Honora's sons never showed any interest. While Honora herself could play, she’s never gave it much time in her life.

What had she been missing?

“Is your house always filled with music?” she asked Edward.

“Pretty much. They all play. Therefore, they all practice.”

“If my house was full of music like this, I don’t think I’d get anything done, so enrapt would I be.”

Edward inclined his head. “Don’t worry. You get used to it.”

Used to it? Never!

A warm idea filled her heart. “Does that mean our house will always be filled with music?”

At her emphasis of the word “our”, Edward turned his attention fully to her. “Do you want it to be?”

“Very much.”

He took her hand. “Then I shall play for you every day.”

Honora straightened. “Wait. You play too?”

He laughed. “I do, though not as well as my sons.”

Jacob’s piece came to an end amid a roar of applause. The young ladies laughed and clapped. Some begged him to perform duets with them, but he averred. “I would much rather hear you play.”

“Oh no,” cried Lady Frances, “for we could never play as well as you.” The rest agreed.

If it wasn’t for Lady Hammond coming to his rescue, poor Jacob would have been chained to that fortepiano bench for life.

Honora turned to her daughter. Now would have been a good time for Juliana to take her place at the keyboard. But the fire that Kendall had ignited in her pride had died out. If anything, it looked like she had lost the battle. They both knew Juliana was not anywhere near as good as Jacob.

Bertram ventured, “Do you wish to play, Lady Juliana?”

She shook her head. The wind had been taken out of her indignation. “Do you play?” she returned to Bertram.

“I can, but nowhere as good as that.”

Juliana sighed. “Me neither.” They sat in dejected silence for a moment.

“We could withdraw to the library, if you wish,” Bertram offered.

“Oh yes, please. I’m afraid I don’t have the heart for music today.”

While all the attention was on Jacob being pushed into another performance, Bertram and Juliana quietly rose. “Next chapter?” she asked, her eyes lighting up.

Bertram offered his arm. “If you wish. I like reading to you.”

Reading? Honora thought again of her mother-in-law and hour after hour of her tedious drone at Christmas. Granted, it was not long before age caught up with her, and she could no longer see the pages of the Bible. It was then Lord Charles took over the annual reading of Luke.

By then Honora had picked up the practice of sitting in a far corner to poke at embroidery or some other such project to keep the boredom at bay.

But had it been boring? While Jacob launched into another sprightly tune, Honora sorted through her own memories. Yes, she loved spending hours as a child next to her Grandmother's spinet singing about shepherds watching their flocks.

And what of her own children? As soon as Lord Charles took over the reading, the spirit of Christmas Day took a shift. As she sulked forgotten in a corner, her children, on the other hand, eagerly gathered about their father's knee as he read to them about those same shepherds.

She had dismissed it at the time, but now remembered how different Lord Charles' reading had been compared to his mother. While she saw it as a necessary Christian duty, he took it more as a fatherly blessing. His reading wasn't a dull vicar's sermon, but a storyteller bringing a tale to life.

Brook, Juliana and the others always gathered about him, warm by the fire.

Honora bit her lip as the memory filled her and threatened to spill out her eyes.

How could she have excused herself from such tender moments?

While Lord Charles had not been her choice for a spouse, he had comported himself well, even loving their children as much as any father could.

It was how he read to them at Christmas.

Not just that, but how they wanted him to read to them at Christmas.

That had been their holiday tradition. Oh, how they must have missed it sorely once the Good Lord saw fit to take Lord Charles back to His bosom.

Even now, did Juliana miss that of her father?

This Christmas, like last Christmas, could have been a sober one for the Mildmay household.

But not this year. While her son Brook was now the Earl, Honora pledged to herself that they were to have a merry Christmas for his young children.

While she was not very good at music herself, she would insist on carols at the harpsichord.

She would have Lord Brook read aloud of the shepherds in their fields, like his father had.

They would have flaming plum pudding, mourning bedamned.

She didn't mean to sob.

"Honora?" Edward's tender voice broke through her thoughts. He lifted a handkerchief to dab away her tears. "Are you all right?"

"Just thinking of how the family will spend Christmas this year." She took the handkerchief from him to complete the task. "It will be a good day."

Edward relaxed. Oh. She had distressed him.

She wanted to set his mind at ease. "Thinking about all our Christmas traditions.

" She shared of her grandmother's music, Lord Charles' reading, and more.

Christmas in the Mildmay household wasn't so bad, not the way she thought it had been.

That was her fault, and hers alone. "This year, it will be wonderful. "

"I'm glad." He took her hand. "And next year... we have time to think about that."

Next year... of course. "And how does a Russell spend Christmas?"

Edward told of music and games, "if only to balance the vicar's sermon. Christmas should be a time of joy." He traced the lines of Honora's hands. "If our children ever declare a truce, perhaps we could join together."

Honora looked to the door through which Juliana and Bertram had slipped out.

She could very well be married and gone by next Christmas.

"Lord Brook could do the reading. My son has young children of his own now.

" Granted, both Bertie and Maisie were still in long skirts, with Bertie only just learning to toddle and Maisie still an infant.

Yet they might grow up as their father had, having the Christmas story read to them by someone who loved them. "If you could bring the music."

Edward lifted Honora's hand to his lips. "For you, I'll play the piano forever."