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Chapter 18
Alice movedinto the drawing room and found Joseph kneeling upon the window seat, staring out at the falling snow. She paused near the doorway, looking at her little man. Would he be pleased when he learned the news? She had to believe he would be; after all, he’d very much enjoyed his time with Isaac this season.
Isaac.
She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face at the mere thought of his name. Oh, and all the glorious kisses yesterday. In Greenbulls, of all places. Alice felt her face grow warm. Part of her was shocked at her own behavior. Part of her, the more insistent part, hoped they could reenact the events over again soon. And if not at the gentlemen’s club, then perhaps somewhere closer to home. Thewheredidn’t matter because she’d finally found the rightwho.
She’d almost told Joseph yesterday evening, after coming home. Though Isaac had been there and taken dinner with them, she’d wanted to sleep on it first. She wanted to know this was right before telling Joseph.
When this morning had dawned...well, there was no doubt in her mind.
Not that she was sad she hadn’t told him last night. Today was Epiphany, and tonight Twelfth Night. It was the perfect day, and she and Isaac had devised a lovely plan.
“Joseph, dear,” Alice said, striding over to him. “What are you looking at?”
“It’s snowing again, Mama,” he said, shooting her no more than the briefest of glances. Ponto, resting happily near Joseph’s feet, didn’t even lift his head. “Do you think Lord Brooks would build another snowman with me?”
Joseph had taken to Isaac from the first moment they’d met. She should have followed her heart as quickly as he had. It would have saved her quite a bit of worry. “I believe so.”
Joseph’s face brightened. “Can you write him? Right now?” He began to bounce on the window seat cushion.
“Well, I’m sure we can—”
The drawing room door opened, and Mrs. Clarke hurried inside. “There’s someone at the door, my lady, and he’s asking for our young Master Joseph.” It was clear to Alice that the elderly woman was fighting a smile, but blessedly, her years on the stage seemed to be coming back to her, for Joseph appeared to only see her puzzlement.
“For me?” he asked.
“Yes, and what a man he is,” Mrs. Clarke continued. “A great big red coat, all trimmed with fur. And my, the biggest bag of presents hanging off his shoulder I’ve ever seen.”
Joseph’s eyes went wide. “Father Christmas!” He darted from the room, heading toward the entry. With a bark, Ponto was up and after him.
Alice stood, and she and Mrs. Clarke quickly hurried after him. Alice didn’t want to miss this part for all the world.
When they reached the entryway, Joseph was staring at the man before him in clear shock. If he recognized Mr. Clarke beneath the disguise, he didn’t say anything. Then again, the coat had been stuffed with more than one pillow and Mr. Clarke had donned a thick white beard which covered nearly all his face.
“Well, hello little boy,” Mr. Clarke said.
Alice was surprised at how much he altered his voice, making it creak like a man far older than himself while also deepening it.
“Hello, sir,” Joseph said.
“Have you been having a good Christmas this year?”
“Yes, sir.” Joseph seemed rooted to the spot, almost scared to find out why Father Christmas was here at all.
“That is good to hear. This is a jolly time of year, and one where we ought to remember the Holy Child.”
Joseph nodded. Opened his mouth. Hesitated. Then licked his lips. “Did...did you come to bring me a present?”
Father Christmas laughed. “I did indeed.”
Joseph glanced over his shoulder at Alice, giving her a hopeful smile, and then turned back.
“But it was quite large,” Father Christmas continued. “So, I left it in the nursery.”
Joseph’s eyes grew wide and without another word, he was up the stairs.
“Wait for me, sweetheart,” Alice called after him. Joseph slowed but didn’t stop completely. Ponto took to running between him and Alice and back again.
