A Matchmaker's Christmas by Donna Lea Simpson

Author:Donna Lea Simpson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance
Publisher: Beyond the Page
Published: 2014-12-16T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fourteen

And so the day continued.

The greengrocer’s store was filled with good things to eat, shiny red apples, fragrant Seville oranges, carrots, cabbages and onions, with bunches of herbs, rosemary and thyme hanging in drying bunches from the time-darkened ceiling beams. Beatrice had a long conversation with the owner about the wishes of Lady Bournaud, since initially the fellow evinced some skepticism of the generous, indeed ample, provisions the comtesse wanted to make for the people of Harnthwaite over the coming winter. Eventually she prevailed, once Sir David came forcefully to Beatrice’s assistance, demanding that he take the lady at her word once and for all.

They descended the step to the walkway outside of the shop.

“I didn’t think he would ever admit that perhaps you might know what Lady Bournaud’s wishes were!” Chappell shook his head in bemused frustration.

“You cannot blame him. Lady Bournaud has been so insular for most of the last twenty years, I gather, and folks have gotten used to not much notice from the great house.” Beatrice, buffeted by the strengthening wind, tucked her hands in her muff and glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to darken with clouds. It looked like snow, she thought. Smelled like snow, too, in that inimitable north country fashion.

“Where to next, Miss Copland?” the knight said, taking her arm.

Oh, if only she were who he thought, Beatrice mused, looking up at the man next to her as they walked down the stone path along the line of shops that huddled together like cats in a rainstorm. He seemed to enjoy her company, and she had found, to her surprise and dismay, that the infatuation she had for him those many years before had not abated as it should have, and was even now strengthening, turning into a more mature esteem and respect, with that old tremor of attraction.

But she would think of that another time, alone at night, when it would not show on her expression.

“We shall first stop at the post office, which has, I believe, some packages that Lady Bournaud ordered from London, and then on to see the vicar. Every child of the parish is to receive a gift from Father Christmas, and every family a goose.”

“Lady Bournaud has at last gone mad,” Chappell laughed.

“I think so,” Beatrice chuckled. Comfortably, like old friends, they walked and talked. “You must miss your son this time of year.”

Sir David nodded, squinting off into the distance at the bare limbs of the trees that lined the village green and stretched up into the sky. “Very much. This will be the first year we are not together for Christmas. But he will barely miss me, I think. Life in Paris will be lively for a handsome young man like Alex.”

“I think you underestimate his attachment to you, Sir David. I am sure he will have moments of sadness among the gaiety.”

He gave her a grateful glance. “As selfish as it sounds, I hope he does miss me at least occasionally.

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