Snowed in for Christmas by Isabella Hargreaves

Author:Isabella Hargreaves
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: History in Focus
Published: 2016-11-24T18:00:00+00:00

Back at the hut, there was no sign of Augusta. Eleanor stripped off her sodden cloak and gloves, and hurried to the bedroom to find her wrapped in her fur-lined cloak, reading one of Mrs. Radcliffe’s novels.

“Where have you been for so long, Eleanor?” she asked in a peevish voice. “I needed you to make me tea.”

“You remember I said we were going to collect holly to decorate and cheer up the hut for Christmas dinner?”

“What old-fashioned nonsense. Really, Eleanor, you do reveal your countrified background.”

“If that means loving the fun, old traditions of a Yule log and holly and ivy, then I’ll accept that label,” she replied with a smile.

Augusta dismissed Eleanor’s comment with her light tinkling laugh that gentlemen seemed to love.

“Can I bring you a cup of tea to warm you?” Eleanor asked.

She exited the room to find Robert had placed the sack of holly on the table and was securing the Yule log in the fireplace. He watched until the existing flames took hold, sizzling its moisture, then popping and crackling the bark. Robert moved to the door, pausing only to say, “I’ll chop wood for the fire.”

Using the water she had left heating on the hob, Eleanor brewed a pot of tea to warm all of them and poured a cup.

Once she had served Augusta, Eleanor checked the progress of the Christmas dinner and made a kind of soda bread to eat with a jar of blackberry preserve from the cupboard.

Finally, she had time to unwrap the greenery they had collected. Just looking at the leathery green-leaved sprigs with their bright red berries reminded her of Christmases with her family.

Over the next half hour, Eleanor hummed old Christmas songs she remembered her mother singing, and decorated the mantelpiece and every facet of the room that she could poke a stem into.

The green and red glowing bright in the low light of the room cheered her. Being stranded in a snowstorm with Viscount Landers was far more enjoyable than she could ever have imagined. He seemed to take adversity in his stride and turn the grimmest predicament into, if not fun, then a lighthearted interlude.

An interlude—a time out of her usual mind-numbing life—it must be, because Augusta would marry Robert in the New Year.

Nothing, not even this catastrophe of a Christmas holiday, would stop that.

Eleanor’s heart chilled at the thought, but she gave herself a firm mental shake. He wouldn’t even recognize her once they returned to normal life and society.

Robert entered the hut with a gust of wind-driven snow.

“You’re in good time. I think the dinner is ready for me to serve. Unfortunately, we have no Christmas cup to offer, but tea.”

“I have the just the right ingredient to add festive season sparkle to that tea,” he answered, tapping the brandy flask in the inner pocket of his coat. “Indeed, let’s add a dash to the meal while you’re browning the meat. Who says we can’t cook as well as the French?”

Eleanor chuckled and stood back while Robert flambéed his catch on the skillet.

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