What Happens At Christmas (Millworth Manor series Book 1) by Alexander Victoria

Author:Alexander, Victoria [Alexander, Victoria]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Zebra
Published: 2013-09-24T04:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Even without Beryl’s warning, Camille would have known there were children in the house the moment the door opened. The air was filled with the sound of children’s voices and peals of laughter. On the staircase leading to the foyer, five little boys of varying ages slid down the banisters with squeals of delight. A maid at the top of the stairs tried, with no success, to grab the children. A footman at the bottom stared as if he wasn’t sure if he should stop them, catch them or join them.

“Lady Lydingham.” Fortesque appeared seemingly from nowhere. His clothes were disheveled; his few remaining strands of hair were out of order; there was a wild look in his eyes. “There has been a new development.”

“I am well aware of that, Fortesque.” She handed him her muff and pulled off her hat. “But it is nothing we can’t handle.”

“I don’t . . . We can’t . . .” The actor sputtered and couldn’t seem to get a complete sentence out.

“Oh, he’s going to be a great deal of help,” Beryl said behind her.

Grayson snorted back a laugh.

“Come now, Fortesque, it is simply a change in the . . . in the script, nothing more than that.” Camille stepped toward the stairway. “You there, boys,” she said in a voice drawn from the governesses of her childhood. “Come down here this minute.”

The children traded glances, then reluctantly came to line up at the foot of the stairway in a stair-step manner of their own, from tallest to shortest. Each and every head was topped with an unruly mass of curls in colors ranging from light brown to true blond, and each pair of eyes was very nearly the same shade of brown. The smallest two children looked exactly alike and held hands. The brothers would have looked like Christmas angels, had it not been for the mischievous glint in most of those eyes and an overall air of disarray.

“Now then,” she said in a kind manner, “what are your names?”

The tallest and, no doubt, the oldest, who looked to be about nine or ten, glanced at the others and then stepped forward. “I’m Thomas.” He nodded at the other boys. “These are my brothers. This is Simon.” The next in line nodded in a far more somber manner than she would have expected, given their unruly activity a minute ago. “And Walter.” Walter grinned a toothy grin. She bit back a smile of her own. “And George and Henry. They’re twins.” The two youngest boys, probably six years of age, smiled shyly.

“Well, my goodness.” She adopted a look of surprise. “I have a twin as well.” She glanced at Beryl. “You see, we look almost exactly the same.”

Thomas peered around her at Beryl. “She doesn’t look very friendly to me.” He lowered his voice as if to share a great secret. “She’s a bit skittish too, isn’t she?”

Beryl’s eyes narrowed.

Camille nodded. “Always has been, I’m afraid.” She considered them for a moment.

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