Lord Grantwell's Christmas Wish by Diane Gaston

Author:Diane Gaston
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2021-06-29T13:54:50+00:00

Chapter Ten

The gay spirit they’d managed in lighting the yule log and singing the wassail songs continued through their Christmas Eve supper, which they ate in the sitting room near the kitchen. Grant was certain he had not dined with children since he’d been at school. He’d not held conversations with children since then either, but he was surprised at how comfortable it was.

Had he ever sat at the same table as his parents when he’d been William and Anna’s ages? He had not. Not until well into his adolescence. William and Anna were surprisingly good company, though. Of course, Lillian helped them keep up the conversation.

William might have been content just to ply him with questions about the war, but Lillian turned the conversation to Christmas, and what each of them remembered about celebrating the holiday.

The children’s remembrances were even bleaker than Grant’s. Their holiday seemed to have been completely arranged by and spent with their governess, with strict admonitions to stay away from their grandfather and his guests. At least Grant had been allowed to make an appearance for his parents and their guests.

Lillian’s turn came. ‘Well, I spent most of my Christmases at school in Reading.’

‘What did you do at school?’ Anna asked.

‘We played games, mostly,’ she said. ‘Like Bullet Pudding or Hoodman Blind or Rats and Rabbits. The teachers who stayed with us—those of us who did not leave school for the holidays—tried to make it fun. And it was.’

‘You did not return to Portugal for Christmas?’ Grant asked.

She averted her gaze. ‘After...after my father died, my mother thought it better I stay at school.’

‘Where is Portugal?’ Anna asked.

‘It is on the Iberian Peninsula, on the Atlantic Ocean bordering Spain,’ William answered. ‘Napoleon tried to conquer it, but he never did.’

That was close to how it was.

‘When I was a very little girl I did spend Christmas in Portugal,’ Lillian went on. ‘We used to have our Christmas meal on Christmas Eve. We called it Consoada and we ate codfish with green vegetables and boiled potatoes.’

‘I am sure I would like codfish,’ said Anna.

Lillian laughed. The sight and sound still filled Grant with delight.

‘You would both like our Bolo Rei,’ she said. ‘It is a cake with fruit and nuts.’

That started talk of cakes, which lasted until ginger cake was served for dessert.

By the time the children had finished their cake they were becoming visibly tired and, because the supper had been served much later than they were accustomed, Lillian pronounced it time to ready themselves for bed.

Grant followed them from the room, and Thompson began to clear the table.

When they reached the hall, Anna plopped down on the marble floor. ‘I’m too tired.’

‘Get up, Anna!’ William chastised. ‘You’ll make Lord Grantwell cross.’

The little girl glanced up at Grant, her blue eyes filling with worry.

How might it have been for these children for them to worry about their every step?

He exaggerated the tone of his voice. ‘Indeed, you shall make me very cross!’ Anna’s eyes widened even more as he bent down.

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