A Dangerous Nativity

Chapter 8, Scene 2

Catherine enjoyed a private smile. One moment Sylvia stood, rigid and uncertain, near the doorway. The next, her son accosted her with a hug and an enthusiastic kiss. The duchess couldn't hold back a warm smile, but her expression reflected puzzlement and confusion. Charles grinned back and pointed up. Those mischief-makers hung mistletoe where it will catch anyone coming in the door.

Randy came in behind Charles. He looked apprehensive, but he stood on his toes to place a quick kiss on the duchess's cheek. "Joyeux Noël, Your Grace," he said, blushing furiously.

Freddy did the same, and the duchess allowed it.

Amazing.

Sylvia spun around, looking at Catherine as though to ask if the world had turned upside down. Before Catherine could speak, however, Glenaire came through the door.

Does a lady accost a gentleman under mistletoe? No power on earth could push Catherine to approach the aloof marquess. Her father followed behind, however, and she couldn't resist. "Happy Christmas, Papa," she said, with an affectionate kiss. The old man beamed back at her. "Happy Christmas, Daughter."

The sound of loud throat clearing came from the hallway. Lord Arthur stepped out of the way, to enable Will to enter. Catherine started to take a step back, but a firm hand took her wrist.

"Oh, no, you don't. Mistletoe rules," the earl laughed.

His mouth covered hers in a kiss that heated her to her toes, but managed to stay chaste enough for the audience. Catherine felt her world spin.

"Merry Christmas, Miss Wheatly," the earl whispered, searching her face. "I hope it is the happiest you've ever known." He released her hand, but not her heart. His eyes held hers. What an odd thing to say.

She felt relief when Will turned his eyes away to look at the dancing faces of three boys, and suggested they open gifts.

Songbird Cottage's modest gifts, framed watercolors, were well received. The duchess appeared touched by the pair of goldfinches in hers. "Chadbourn must have told you they are my favorite," she said.

"Actually, it was my idea," Charles said, proudly.

Will opened his gift to reveal a drawing of a humble English robin, head high. "I will treasure this," he murmured. Even the marquess seemed impressed with his painting of a sleek, black raven.

Once Lord Arthur thanked the earl and duchess for his pen set, all eyes turned to Catherine. "I can wait," she said. "I'm not sure the boys can."

The next moments were a riot of paper and exclamations. Freddy went into spasms of joy over a set of cavalry figures sized to match the miniature army in Charles's nursery. Randy grinned over a leather-bound copy of A Guide for Young Shepherds. Charles opened a copy of The War of the Roses and wrapped his uncle in an impulsive hug. Catherine initially suspected the duke could expect more luxurious gifts over the next twelve days, but doubt plagued her when Sylvia spoke.

"I've never known such a night in this house. Mistletoe, Chadbourn? Gifts?"

Pity filled Catherine. Could it be, this woman had never had a holiday party? Her father's next words wrung her heart.

"There never was a night like this. M'father didn't believe in celebrating. Church service, yes, but 'no pagan nonsense,' he would say." Lord Arthur sounded bitter. "I think the old man didn't want to spend a groat on family. It took my Mary to teach me how to make a family. Praise God for her." He smiled at Catherine sadly.

Silence greeted this statement. Even the boys looked at him, their expressions sad. Catherine couldn't find words. He had mourned her mother these five years, never more than at Christmas.

It was the duchess who spoke next. Her words startled Catherine. "Lord Arthur, you make her sound like a wonderful woman. Why did your father disapprove of her? Why was he so adamant we should avoid the pair of you?"

Lord Arthur glanced at Catherine and appeared to come to a decision. "May as well tell it all. Time to heal." He took a deep breath. Catherine saw Will and the marquess exchange glances.

Lord Arthur went on without noticing the others. "Mary had a child, of course, and wasn't married. She ran to Scotland when she knew she had conceived. She ran before I could stop her. It took me five years to find her, another four to set myself up to support her and Catherine, and a few more years to convince her. Would have stayed in Scotland, but all I had to offer, Songbird Cottage, lay right next to Eversham Hall. She hated coming back, but Emery let us be. Mary learned to love it."

Will spoke into the awkward silence, asking what they all wondered. "Lord Arthur, are you Catherine's natural father?" Catherine's heart cracked a little. She had wondered that very question much of her life. She wasn't sure she wanted to know, however, much less to find out in front of others.

Lord Arthur gave Catherine a look that widened the crack. "No. I wish I were. Emery forced Mary, the summer she turned sixteen."

The duchess gave a little cry. Catherine sank back into the settee. When Will came to sit next to her, she hardly noticed. Her attention belonged entirely to her father.

"Emery knew I loved Mary. He knew I planned to marry her. He did it to hurt me, but he almost destroyed her. M'father beat him when he found out what Emery did, but both of them wanted Mary gone. Wanted no shame on the Wheatly name, as if hiding her would cover what my brother did."

Catherine could not speak. When Will took her hand, she clung to his. She caught movement from the corner of her eye and saw Randy looking at Freddy as if asking for explanation. She had forgotten the boys were there. So, apparently had Lord Arthur.

All three boys had expressions filled with hurt and confusion. Concern for the boys brought Catherine out of her stupor. The boys obviously struggled to piece together what they had just heard. Someone would have to give them blunt explanations she would rather they never had to hear. She glanced up at Will and saw the same concern in his eyes when he looked at his nephew.

Charles broke the thick silence. He seized on a boy's simplest issue. "Does that mean Cath is my sister?"

"But she's our sister," Freddy insisted.

"We'll need some time to sort this out, but I think you're both right," She managed to sound reassuring.

"Interesting!" Charles exclaimed. "Having a sister will be good, won't it?"

The adults laughed nervously and assured him that it would be.

Sylvia rose and bustled to the bell pull. "I think we need refreshments," she said, with a tight smile. Catherine could see that her hands shook. As sick as Catherine felt about what her own mother endured, she regretted that Sylvia had to endure yet more pain over the behavior of her despicable husband. How on earth will I ever face her again? How can I face any of them?

"I don't think I can manage food," Catherine said, rising. "You will understand I've had a shock, and I feel unwell. I'll bid you good night." She spoke rapidly and tried not to run out the door.

Will caught her as she reached the doorway. "Catherine, I know this is a shock, but isn't it better to know?"

She nodded, fighting tears and trying to tug free.

"We'll manage this fine. When we're married, it won't matter in the slightest."

Married? Merciful angels! She pulled free then and ran. She ran like her life depended on it. Perhaps it did.