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  He wasn’t even embarrassed when his mother cleared her throat, breaking their connection, and changed the subject.

  Emily dragged them into the drawing room as soon as the meal was over. He almost suggested they wait until Sarah’s family arrived, but before he could open his mouth to do so, Sarah touched his arm.

  “Mama said they would exchange presents before leaving. They won’t expect us to wait for them.”

  He nodded, robbed of speech for a moment. Sarah was so beautiful that morning—her hair a riot of curls, a festive yellow morning dress reflecting the gold in her hair. He wanted to draw her into his arms, but since they weren’t alone he settled for bringing her hand to his lips.

  An odd expression crossed her face, and it took him a moment to realize it was tenderness. Directed at him, not at something amusing his sister had said. His heart stuttered.

  “Come on, you two,” Emily said, dragging him away from his wife. “I’ve waited long enough. Now sit while I hand out the presents.”

  A footman had brought in the gifts while the family was at breakfast, and Emily headed straight for the pile of brightly wrapped boxes that was carefully arranged on a table placed next to the fireplace.

  James took a moment to gaze around the room—the mantel groaning under the weight of festive greenery, his mother seated next to Sarah on the settee while Emily searched for a particular gift. His heart felt almost full to overflowing.

  He was still nervous about his gift. He’d consulted Emily about it, wanting to ensure he gave Sarah something she’d enjoy. But now he wondered if it was enough. Perhaps he should have gotten her jewelry instead.

  “I know you’ll both appreciate the extreme sacrifice I’m making in waiting for the two of you to go first,” Emily said, dropping colorfully wrapped packages in his and Sarah’s laps. Her eyes glowed and she winked at him as she stepped back a few paces to wait. She was almost vibrating with excitement.

  Sarah looked at him, but he waved his hand at the box in her lap. “I insist you go first.”

  It was the gentlemanly thing to do, but in reality he was beset by doubt. He’d placed so much importance on getting her something she would like, and now he worried that he’d failed. He needed to get her gift out of the way so he could enjoy the rest of the day.

  As Sarah began to unwrap his present, his hands clenched involuntarily. He barely managed to keep from mangling the gift on his lap as he waited, suddenly certain that he hadn’t done enough.

  Unlike Emily, who usually tore the wrapping off her presents, Sarah carefully removed the paper, setting it aside before opening the wooden box. She stared at the contents for several long moments, and James’s stomach dropped. She hated it.

  When she looked up at him, her eyes were wide with wonder. “You got me oil paints.”

  “I know you love to draw and paint. Emily mentioned that you’d always wanted to try oil, but your parents insisted you limit yourself to watercolors. It seemed a shame that you not indulge your talent.”

  She stared at him, and he wondered if he’d misspoken.

  Needing to fill the silence that had descended, he rushed on. “I’ve also arranged to have the room next to the gallery set up as your studio. It faces south and receives sunlight for a good portion of the day.”

  He stopped talking when she placed the box on the tea table and stood. He set aside his own gift and followed suit. “If you’d rather have jewels…”

  She threw her arms around him and placed a kiss on his cheek. “They’re perfect,” she said after several seconds, leaning back to beam up at him.

  “You’re perfect,” he replied, his voice low enough so only she could hear. Color rose in her cheeks, and her smile made his heart feel a thousand times lighter.

  He released her reluctantly, and she turned to lift the flat box he’d set aside. “Now it’s your turn.”

  He accepted the gift again and waited for her to sit before lowering himself into his chair.

  “You have everything a man could possibly want,” Sarah said as he tore the paper on his gift. “I thought, perhaps, you might enjoy this. It isn’t much.”

  James didn’t really care what she’d given him. It was enough that he’d made her happy.

  His grin widened when he realized that she’d given him a picture. Not a watercolor, but one she’d drawn with colored pencils. It was a striking likeness of Rakehell, the prize stallion he’d brought with him when he’d taken up residence at Hathaway Park.

  When he glanced back at Sarah, he could tell she was nervous. “I knew you were talented, but I grossly underestimated your ability. I’ll definitely be framing this.”

  Sarah’s smile wobbled, and he lifted a brow in question.

  “There’s a second picture below that one.”

  If it was even half as good as the first, his wife had no reason to be concerned. Curious, he lifted the top page. When his gaze fell on the second picture, he froze. There, on the paper, was a drawing of him. He was at the stables, a hand on Rakehell’s mane as he leaned close to speak to the animal.

  His mind went back to the day it was drawn. Sarah and Emily had visited the stables, and he’d been very aware of her presence as he’d gone about his work. Emily had been chattering nonstop while Sarah drew, but he’d had no idea she was drawing him.

  “So this is why you and Emily were out at the stables that day.”

  “I couldn’t think of what to give one of the wealthiest men in all of England. Since I know how much you love your horses…” She shrugged.

  It wasn’t the horse in the picture that had captured his attention but the way she’d drawn him. There was a light in his eyes and a grin on his face that almost made him appear handsome. Was that how Sarah saw him? Or had she made him appear more handsome than he really was? As his eyes scanned the drawing, however, he saw that she’d accurately captured the slight bend in his nose from the time he’d broken it trying to tame a particularly stubborn stallion. And it didn’t appear as though she’d altered any of his features for the better. Yet, somehow, she’d made him appear more handsome than he knew he was.

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Do you like it?” She was biting her lip, and he wanted nothing more at that moment than to draw her onto his lap and show her just how much he liked it. How much she’d taken away his breath with her thoughtfulness.

  Their eyes met and held. “I will treasure this.”

  What he didn’t tell Sarah was that looking at the drawing gave him hope that she would one day come to care for him. Perhaps even love him.

  “Now it’s our turn,” Emily said, capturing his attention. He’d almost forgotten he and Sarah weren’t alone. “Mama and I also got you presents, but if I don’t open that large box over there with my name on it, I’m going to expire from curiosity.”

  James laughed, his heart feeling a hundred times lighter than when he’d entered the room. “By all means. I’d hate to be the cause of your distress.”

  Emily needed no more encouragement. She quickly handed out the rest of the gifts and then proceeded to tear open her present.

  Before long, all the gifts were open and Emily was suggesting they head into the music room to sing Christmas carols.

  They would be leaving for Christmas service later that morning, after Sarah’s family arrived. James wanted to spirit Sarah away and thank her properly, but that would have to wait until later that evening when everyone had gone. James steeled himself for the long day ahead. Much as he loved his family, he looked forward to exploring whether Sarah’s gift contained the hidden meaning he wanted to ascribe to it.

  Happiness settled over Sarah as they proceeded to the music room. She hadn’t wanted to admit to herself that she’d been worried about her husband’s reaction to her small gift. What did one give someone, after all, who already had everything? He loved nothing better than his stables, and Emily had assured her that her brother would enjoy the drawings.

  The way he’d lo
oked at her after opening her gift had flustered her. It was the same look he gave her when he joined her in the bedroom. And while Emily and Mrs. Hathaway were opening their own presents, she’d glanced his way more than a few times to find him staring at her. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking.

  Emily urged her to play the first song, and Sarah had to take a few deep breaths as she settled before the pianoforte. It wouldn’t do to mangle the song she was about to play because she was distracted by thoughts of her husband.

  “I hope you’ll all join me,” she said as she shifted over on the bench so Emily could sit next to her. “I can manage playing, but my voice is only passable at best.”

  “Oh, never fear,” Emily said, giving her a small hug as she sat next to her. “Singing carols on Christmas morning is a family tradition. We’ll all join in.”

  “Even James?” It had never occurred to her to wonder if her husband could sing. Her own brother and father loathed the activity, which was understandable given that neither could carry a tune.

  “Oh yes,” Mrs. Hathaway said, beaming with pride at her son. “He has a very nice singing voice. I admit that he puts Emily and me to shame.”

  “I shall be the judge of that,” Sarah said with mock seriousness as she began to play “God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen,” one of the few carols she knew well enough to play by memory.

  She’d thought her mother-in-law was exaggerating her son’s talents, but when James’s smooth baritone joined in, she found herself gaping at him in shock, almost losing her place in the song. He winked at her, knowing full well that he had surprised her.

  “Mama never lies,” Emily said when they’d reached the end of the carol.

  “I can see that,” Sarah said, shifting over on the bench so Emily could play the next song.

  They were interrupted by the soft murmur of voices coming from the hallway, indicating that Sarah’s family had arrived. She rose and had just reached James’s side when the footman announced them.

  Sarah greeted her mother and brother with heartfelt hugs but hesitated when she saw the stern set of her father’s jaw. She dropped into a brief curtsy in front of him, hating the relief that flooded through her when she didn’t detect a hint of spirits. It embarrassed her that it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility for her father to have already started drinking this early in the morning.

  She watched James greet her parents and brother, the happiness of the day disappearing when she noticed the way her father glared at James.

  Her eyes flew to George’s, and her brother gave a short, abbreviated shake of his head, their signal to each other that their father was in a mood and would be quick to anger.

  As usual, her mother attempted to make up for her father’s rudeness by greeting everyone warmly and throwing herself into the activity they’d interrupted. Sarah didn’t resume her seat at the pianoforte, choosing to sit next to her mother while Emily played.

  She tried to concentrate on the next carol. She didn’t expect her father and brother to join in, but James’s rich voice seemed to wrap around her, giving her a measure of comfort. That comfort was quickly ripped away when he stopped singing midway through the song.

  She turned in time to see her father say something to him, then the two men stood and left the room. She looked at George, wondering if he knew what was happening, but he only shrugged in reply. Her mother gave no indication that she had noticed the men’s departure, but Sarah knew that her calm demeanor was only a mask. Her mother was always one to avoid conflict, and she wouldn’t want to draw attention to whatever it was that had upset her father.

  For several moments, Sarah wrestled with what to do. When she stood, her mother reached out to grasp her hand, giving a small shake of her head. That small motion, however, convinced Sarah that she needed to learn what was happening. She wouldn’t have admitted it, but she was suddenly worried for James.

  She heard her father’s raised voice the moment she stepped into the hallway and made sure to close the door to the music room behind her. She found the two men in the drawing room.

  James was standing just inside the doorway, facing her father who was pacing as he ranted about something. When he noticed her, his shoulders stiffened.

  “You should return to the music room,” James said.

  Her father spun around at his comment and pinned Sarah with an angry glare. “Do you know what your husband has done?”

  “With all due respect, Sir Henry, I don’t think Sarah needs to be present for this discussion.”

  Her father snorted with disgust. “So you’ve deceived her as you have me?”

  “There was no deception,” James replied, his voice calm despite the other man’s anger. Sarah had detected the slight hesitation before he spoke, and she couldn’t help but wonder what it was that James didn’t want her to know.

  “He’s made it known that no one is to accept credit from me. Do you know what that means?”

  Sarah knew exactly what it meant and silently applauded her husband’s foresight.

  “It means you can no longer drive your family into debt. I would prefer, of course, if you could manage your own money, but since it’s clear that you cannot, I’ve had to take steps to ensure there’s still an estate left to bequeath to your son.”

  Her father’s face turned an alarming shade of red, and for a moment, she feared that James had pushed her father too far.

  “It is Christmas Day, Papa. Surely this conversation can wait until another time.”

  Silence descended upon the room, and Sarah held her breath as she waited for her father’s reply.

  “You’ll speak to your husband on my behalf, right, Sarah?” her father said, turning to face her.

  “Of course,” she said, relieved that her father was being reasonable. It didn’t happen often, but he wasn’t in his cups, which normally helped his mood.

  He nodded stiffly, moving past her to leave the room. Sarah waited until she heard the music room door being opened, the festive music spilling out into the hallway momentarily before her father closed it again.

  When she turned back to face James, she was surprised to see he was still tense. Confused, she placed a hand on his arm to set him at ease. “Thank you.”

  His brows drew together in a slight frown. “You’re not upset with me?”

  His demeanor made sense now. He’d expected her to censure him for his behavior.

  “We both know my father has no self-control. I’ll admit I’ve been worried for George. Once you’d paid all of Papa’s debts, I expected him to run up new ones.” She gave her head a slight shake. “He’ll always hold a grudge against you for this though. And I’m sure he’ll seek out ways to continue his gambling.”

  “I might be able to help with that. It seems that having a title—and the obscene wealth that comes with this one, in particular—actually gives me some influence with others. I’ve already let it be known that anyone who allows him to run up any future debts won’t receive so much as a shilling from me. For some reason people care about my displeasure. I’ll admit, it’s an odd sensation.”

  Sarah smiled as she saw him wrestle with the notion before shaking it off. She almost told him that she cared about his feelings but held herself back at the last moment.

  “We’ve only postponed your father’s ire. He won’t thank me when he learns I didn’t allow my wife to cajole me from my decision.”

  “You don’t have to shield me,” Sarah said, oddly touched that her husband would take all the blame upon himself.

  “Nonsense. Your father is already angry with me. I doubt he could be more so. There’s no reason for him to turn that anger onto you.” He held out his arm, and Sarah took it automatically. “What say you, should we try to enjoy the rest of this day?”

  Warmth spread through Sarah, replacing the dread she’d felt when she entered the room. “I’d say that is an excellent suggestion.”

  Chapter 11

  May 1813

&nbs
p; Sarah spent the next few months waiting for her father to upset the peace that had settled over their household since Christmas. He was too set in his ways to change, and over the years she’d learned from her mother—who treated her more like a confidante than a child who needed to be sheltered from the realities of life—that he had a talent for finding people to lend him money. Money he would then proceed to lose at an alarming rate. James had put a halt to that temporarily, but she worried that her father would find a way to return to his old habits.

  Instead, the disturbance came from an entirely unexpected quarter… her former suitor.

  It was early afternoon when Sarah was told she had a caller. As he was most days now that the construction of the new stables was reaching an end, James was away from home.

  Expecting her mother, Sarah made her way to the drawing room. When she entered the room, however, she was dismayed to find Robert waiting for her.

  His audacity left her stunned for a moment as she remembered the last time she’d seen him and the impertinent suggestion he’d made. How had she forgotten that moment or the fact that he’d tried to kiss her? But then, given the vigorous and often inventive ways her husband had used to distract her since that evening, it wasn’t surprising that Robert would be the last person on her mind.

  Robert rose when she entered the room and she couldn’t help but notice that he had taken great care with his appearance. But then Sarah had never seen him with so much as a hair out of place. She couldn’t help but contrast his fastidiousness to her husband’s more casual attitude toward fashion and was surprised to find that the man who stood before her now—his fair hair neatly swept back, his royal-blue coat carefully matched to the color of his eyes—no longer impressed her.

  In the few short months of their marriage, she’d come to appreciate the confident ease with which her husband carried himself. James liked to loosen his cravat as the day progressed and never bothered to wear a tailcoat when they weren’t expecting callers. He did start the day with a waistcoat, but even that concession to formality was often discarded at some point during the day.