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First to reach them was Hugh. She still thought of him as Ormond, having known him by that name since he was a youth. His parents, the Duke and Duchess of Albany, were among her closest friends. “Muriel, you will be gratified to learn we have secured a birch log of sufficient size to burn for days.”

“Yule logs are one tradition I approve of,” she told him.

“This fire is delightful,” remarked Hugh’s wife Mary as she reached her palms toward the flames. “My fingers were frozen around the reins of my horse by the time we got back.”

William said to Muriel and Emily, “We left the log in the shop where the stoves will dry it out. By Christmas Eve, it will be stripped and ready to drag into the house.”

“Oh, good,” said Nick, the eldest Powell brother, bringing his wife Tara with him to warm themselves by the fire. “Another chance to heave a load. ’Tis more work than hauling up one of my anchors.”

Tara poked him in the ribs, which earned her a kiss on her nose. “The exercise will do you much good.”

“I thought I got enough exercise chasing you around our chamber,” Nick teased.

Muriel had scant experience with Americans, but she rather thought this young woman had been just what the arrogant Captain Nicholas Powell had needed. Tara would not let him get away with anything.

“I’m surrounded by rogues,” Muriel muttered.

“Did someone call for me?” asked Robbie in a cheery tone as he stepped up to the group, joined by his twin and Aileen Stephen.

“You’re not the only one of your kind among our guests,” said Aileen. “What about your twin brother?”

Muriel observed the two brothers exchanging a glance that spoke of shared pursuits. Was she wrong in thinking the two men were so very different? She had just begun to ponder how she might sort them out when Aileen spoke up. “You must see the Yule log, Muriel. ’Tis enormous.”

“All in good time, my dear. Doubtless I shall be here to welcome it into the parlor.”

“Did anyone think to gather greenery?” asked Emily of the group now gathered in front of the fire.

“Sorry, no,” said William. “When it began to snow, I thought we had better return. There is always tomorrow.”

Emily gave him a look of approval. “It was wise not to tarry in the woods. Not with the way the snow is coming down.”

Muriel looked out the window, frosted around the edges. The snow descended like a white curtain.

A footman swept into the room carrying a tray of small mugs.

Aileen lifted one from the tray. “Hot cider, anyone?”