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Her Longed-For Family

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Год написания книги
2019
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She laughed as she put Joy’s new light blue coat on the baby. “Mother insisted every year that we go through the attic and discard anything with no further use. We despised being up there in the heat, because it was hot even in the spring. Did you find anything you can use?”

“Not yet, but I found stacks of wool blankets. I counted more than a score of boxes of woolen blankets before I stopped. Even if I had two beds set up in every bedroom, there would be enough to put five on each bed. Most had moth holes, but a good number of the blankets are still thick.” He hesitated, then said, “I need your opinion about what might be a contentious issue. You know the stubborn Cornish better than I do.”

“Because I am one of them.”

“I meant no offense.”

“None taken.” She smiled as she finished tying the ribbons on Joy’s tiny hat.

“See? I already am making a bumble-bath of this.”

She picked up the baby. “Say what you need to, my lord.”

“When I saw those blankets, I thought about the children at the mining village. Do they have coats for the coming winter? As a child, mine was sewn from scraps my mother salvaged from old blankets or one of my father’s coats. I would gladly give the blankets to the miners’ families, but they are very proud people.”

“So you are wondering if they would accept them?”

“Yes, and if they will, how can I be certain the blankets will be distributed fairly?”

Drawing Joy’s little fingers away from the silk flower on her bonnet, Caroline said, “I suggest you speak to Raymond. As our parson, he knows which families are in need.”

“Good. I knew you would have a solution for me.”

“By passing you along to my brother. That is hardly a solution.”

“Nonsense.” He took Gil by the hand and led the way down the aisle. “You set me on the right track.” As they stepped outside, he turned up his collar and said, “Confound it, it is cold today. Feels more like mid-January than the end of November.”

“I hope this winter is not as unforgivingly cold as last year.” She moved around the church to get out of the wind.

He followed, but looked around the churchyard. “I recognize some of these people from my estate. I assumed they were attending church at that parish.”

“Recently they have been coming here because your parson has been ill. Raymond offered to go there to lead the services, but it was decided they come here so your parish church doesn’t have to be heated.” She let Joy kick her feet against the ground as if walking. “And you are here today, as well.”

“As I told you, I wanted your advice.”

She lowered her eyes from his steady gaze. How could she have failed to notice the amber flecks in his hazel eyes before now? They seemed to change intensity with his emotions, glowing like melted gold.

“Lady Caroline!” called a familiar voice.

Caroline turned to see the Winwood sisters coming toward them at a pace that belied their many years. Their hair was white, and their faces lined with matching wrinkles. Miss Hyacinth was dressed, as always, in a subdued shade of purple, while Miss Ivy wore her favorite dark green coat. Otherwise, the elderly spinsters were identical. They were the first set of twins ever born in Porthlowen and lived together in the small cottage where they had been born.

“Boat,” Gil shouted, jumping and jerking on Lord Warrick’s arm.

“Not now, Gil.” Caroline smiled as the twins neared. “Good morning.” Their eyes were, she realized, focused on the man beside her. “Lord Warrick, have you met Miss Hyacinth Winwood and Miss Ivy Winwood?”

“Yes.” He bowed his head politely. “However, it is always a pleasure to have the opportunity to be introduced anew to two charming ladies.”

Miss Hyacinth giggled like a young girl. “He has a silver tongue, doesn’t he?”

“As the Bible says, ‘The tongue of the just is as choice silver,’” quoted Miss Ivy, “‘the heart of the wicked is little worth.’”

“Proverbs,” Miss Hyacinth said.

“Chapter 10.”

“Verse 20.” Miss Hyacinth clearly did not intend for her sister to have the final word. “One of our mother’s favorite verses.” Without a pause to take a breath, she asked, “Are you just, my lord?”

Miss Ivy frowned at her sister. “Are you suggesting he might be wicked?”

“Most certainly not.”

“But you asked him if he were just.”

“A jest, Ivy.”

Caroline decided the sisters, who could bounce a conversation between them endlessly, had said enough on the subject. “Lord Warrick is looking forward to having his family join him for Christmastide.”

“How wonderful!” Miss Hyacinth said. “Warrick Hall has been too empty too long. Your uncle seemed to prefer his own company to anyone else’s, which was a pity.”

“Filling a house with family is always wondrous.” Miss Ivy’s smile returned.

“The more, the merrier. Don’t I always say that, sister?”

“Indeed you do.”

“Lady Caroline, you must be looking forward to Christmas as you have not for such a long time.” Miss Hyacinth smiled, as well.

“With the children,” confirmed her sister as if Caroline might have misconstrued Miss Hyacinth’s meaning.

“What a blessing! They must be excited about Christmas.”

Caroline jumped in when the sisters paused to draw a breath. “I would say we adults are more excited. For the children, a year is an impossibly long time, so they have forgotten last Christmas.”

“And this is Miss Joy’s very first Christmas,” Lord Warrick added.

“The older children will get caught up in the celebrations of Advent once they begin.” She ruffled Gil’s hair.

“Boat,” he chirped.

The sisters glanced at one another quickly, then turned to Caroline with the same puzzled expressions. “Does he want a boat as a Christmas gift?”

“Maybe, but I think it is more likely he wishes to sail his boat in the cove. It has been several weeks since the weather was clement enough to allow the children near the water.”

“Boat!” Gil insisted, stamping his foot with impatience.

She handed Joy’s fingers off to Lord Warrick, then embraced Gil as the twins moved away to talk to others. The hug seemed to satisfy the little boy because he flung his short arms around her neck and squeezed her breath from her. She reached up to loosen his grip, but her hands brushed rough ones. Raising her eyes to meet Lord Warrick’s, she knew she could not have drawn a breath at that moment, even if Gil was not holding her tightly.

“You need to let Lady Caroline breathe,” the baron said with a laugh as he lifted Gil’s arms from her neck.
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