Page 61 of It's a British Christmas

Eve nodded and left the kitchen, stopping at Papa’s study to place the note in the center of his desk. Right on top of the pile of sermon notes he’d been working on.

Adam looked up from the ledger that was giving him a headache as his mother opened his study door. “Do you have a moment?”

He tried not to groan since it was the height of ill manners to do so to one’s mother. “Yes, what can I help you with?” He had the feeling his headache was about to grow.

She glided into the room and settled on the chair in front of his desk. Perfect. That was how he’d always viewed his mother. Her spine perfectly straight, her hands folded perfectly in her lap, her smile a perfect slight upturn of her lips. “I wish to speak with you once more on this Miss Allen situation.”

All right, so maybe it would not be so ill-mannered to groan at one’s mother. They had been—for lack of a better word—battling back and forth since his return from Worcestershire. Not one to easily give up something as dear to her heart as her future daughter-in-law, Mother had waged a campaign worthy of Wellington to get him to change his mind.

She had begun the moment he’d walked through the door after his visit with Eve. He listened politely until he could take it no more, then told her he needed to see to some important matters that had arisen while he was gone.

However, the tirade had continued at meals, as they passed each other on the stairs and in the corridors, and times like this, when she cornered him in his study. She’d presented him with a list this very morning at breakfast of debutantes with a check mark next to the names of the young ladies who she’d said, ‘had a brain in her head’.

The last attempt had come from his comment to her that none of the debutantes could think for themselves and would bore him to death in a matter of weeks.

“Mother, as far as I am concerned, there is no ‘Miss Allen situation’, and the matter is settled. You have invited Miss Allen and her parents at my request, and I hope they will accept. I plan to speak with her father when they arrive, and I have every intention of offering for Miss Allen as soon as that meeting has taken place.”

She leaned forward, the look on her face one of utter disbelief, even though he’d told her this repeatedly. “I refuse to believe you will take a wife who has no training whatsoever on how to run a household, how to conduct herself in society, and how to live up to the title of duchess. She will embarrass you, and any children you have. No rector’s daughter could ever step into this role, it is simply not done.”

As she continued, Adam’s thoughts wandered to how he and Eve would ensure those children Mother commented on made an appearance. If anything, his desire for Eve had grown since his departure from Worcestershire. Every time he got a whiff of vanilla or lavender, he could see her as clear as if she stood right in front of him.

Once those thoughts invaded his mind, it took a while for him to focus on the matter at hand. He shifted in his seat and pushed those reflections away, and once more concentrated on Mother’s ramblings.

“I do not wish to be rude, but I have work that needs to be done in order for us to enjoy Christmas, and all the festivities you have planned.”

The duchess shifted in her seat, not used to being interrupted, but halted her words. “One more thing, and then I promise I will leave you be. I very much doubt if a rector’s daughter—”

“Her name is Miss Allen.”

She glowered at him. “—even has an appropriate gown to wear to the ball.”

“Whatever she wears will be fine.”

“And if it is not?” She sniffed as if Eve would arrive in a frock covered with animal leavings.

“I am sure after Diana’s wedding she left behind a gown or two.” His younger sister had married the prior year, and with an entire new wardrobe, had hied off to the country with her new husband. The lovebirds had not been heard from since, except for a brief note disseminating all the delights to be had in the married state.

“Anything your sister left behind will be hopelessly out of fashion.”

“Enough, Mother. Miss Allen will acquit herself quite well. She is lovely to look at, charming, friendly, and has all her teeth. You’ve nothing to worry about.” He stood, indicating the interview was over.

Reluctantly, since she no doubt had a lot more to say, Mother stood and shook out her skirts. “Very well, if I cannot talk you out of this, please allow me to at least counsel Miss Allen when she arrives.”

Adam walked around the desk and took her by her elbow as they moved toward the door. “You have my blessing to help her fit in. However, do not terrorize her, or demean her in any way.” He turned her to look directly at him. “I am serious about this. I want you to use all your hostess skills to make the Allens feel comfortable.”

She placed her hand on his cheek. “You know I only want what is best for you, don’t you?”

He softened at her tone. Sometimes it was hard to remember the woman who had held him on her lap and told him stories. They would sit for hours and she would sing and read to him. He would always cherish those memories and wondered where along the line she’d lost that softness and became the ‘Duchess’.

It seemed to him the change in her took place once his father died. When she had lost her own true love. He would not allow her to take his opportunity for happiness away from him.

“Yes, I know you want what is best for me. However, we need to admit we might not agree on what is best. I want no more than what you and Father had, and what Diana and her earl have.”

He turned her toward him as they reached the door. “Even a duke can aspire to love, can he not?”

CHAPTER 9

Eve took one final look in the mirror in her room, and her shoulders slumped. Despite the new ribbons on her bonnet, and the pretty embroidery Mama had added to her pelisse, she still appeared as a small village young lady, and certainly not fit to attend a ball held by the Duke of Manchester.