The Present (5 page)

"I'll fix things up with George soon as she gets here," Anthony mumbled. "You may depend upon it."

"Oh, I know you will, but you'll have to hie yourself back to London to do so, since she ain't coming here. Didn't want to inflict her dour mood on the festivities, so decided it would be best to absent herself."

Anthony looked appalled now and complained, "You didn't say she was that mad."

"Didn't I? Think you're wearing that black eye just because she's a mite annoyed?"

"That will do," Jason said sternly. "This entire situation is intolerable. And frankly, I find it beyond amazing that you have both utterly lost your finesse in dealing with women since you married."

That, of course, hit quite below the belt where these two ex-rakes were concerned. "Ouch," James muttered, then in his own defense, "American women are an exception to any known rule, and bloody stubborn besides."

"So are Scots, for that matter," Anthony added. "They just don't behave like normal Englishwomen, Jason, indeed they don't."

"Regardless. You know my feelings on the entire family gathering here for Christmas. This is not the time for anyone in the family to be harboring any ill will of any sort. You both should have patched this up before the holidays began. See that you do so immediately, if you both have to return to London to do so."

Having said his peace, Jason headed for the door to leave his brothers to mull over their conduct, or rather, misconduct, but added before he left, "You both look like bloody panda bears. D'you have any idea what kind of example that sets for the children?"

"Panda bears indeed," Anthony snorted as soon as the door closed.

James looked up to reply drolly, "Least the roof is still intact."

Though she had said she wasn't coming, James's wife showed up with their children late the next morning. Georgina also had the rest of her brothers in tow, much to James's chagrin, since he never did get along well with his many American brothers-in-law, and he hadn't been warned they were coming to England for Christmas this year.

Judy, delighted that her best friend was finally there, still said huffily, "It's about time," and grabbing Jack the moment she stepped in the front door, pulled her into the parlor to see "The Present," as it was already being termed by then. And the two young girls spent most of the rest of the day with their fingers pressed to the pedestal table, which was nearly as tall as they were, and doing a lot of whispering back and forth about the mysterious gift.

Their avid interest, though, managed to bring The Present back fully to the attention of the adults in the house, who couldn't help noticing the girls more or less standing guard over it. A strange thing, curiosity. Occasionally, too much of it simply couldn't be contained . . .

But in the hall, without much more than a curt nod to Georgina's brothers, though the rest of his family converged on them with greetings, James followed his wife upstairs to the room they always shared at Haverston, while the children's nanny took the twins off to the nursery. She hadn't said a word to him yet, which didn't give him much hope that she was no longer annoyed with him, despite her showing up.

So he reminded her pointedly, "You said you weren't coming, George. What changed your mind?"

She didn't answer immediately, since a footman followed them into the room with one of her trunks, which she moved to start unpacking. James, hearing another one coming down the hall, promptly closed the door and leaned back against it, figuring the servant would get the message that his delivery could wait.

He watched her closely as he waited, no hard chore that. She was quite a beautiful woman, with rich brown hair and eyes of the same hue. She was petite yet nicely rounded; bearing one daughter and a set of twins had only enhanced her figure.

Theirs had been an unusual beginning, hardly what one would call a courtship. Georgina, wanting to return home to America, had signed onto James's ship as his cabin boy. He'd known, of course, that she wasn't the young lad she was pretending to be, and he'd had a splendid, if sometimes frustrated, time seducing her. He hadn't expected to fall in love, though, but that had happened easy enough, to his own jaded amazement. He had, however, sworn never to marry, so it had been a bit of a dilemma, figuring out how to make Georgina his permanently, without actually asking her to marry him.

Her brothers had solved that problem for him nicely. With a little subtle provoking on his part, they had forced him to the altar, which he'd always be grateful to them for, though he'd be twice damned if he'd ever admit that to them.

After wrapping up a few loose ends, like getting her to admit she loved him, too, they'd had a wonderful marriage ever since. She might blow up every once in a while— with her hot American temper, she'd never had any trouble expressing her displeasure. But then he'd never had any trouble charming her out of any snit she got into.

Which was why he didn't understand their current spat and why it was continuing as long as it was. When he'd left for Haverston, she still hadn't been speaking to him, hadn't been sleeping with him either, for that matter. And all because their daughter had uttered a few colorful phrases more suited to the adult male gender?

That had been her excuse, but he'd had time and enough to wonder if that was really what had made her temper blow up. It wasn't like Georgina to go overboard on trifles. And to blame him for Jacqueline's vocabulary when he wasn't even responsible for it . . .

"Well?" he prompted when she still hadn't answered.

If somewhat stiffly, she replied, ''Thomas convinced me that I might have overreacted about Jack."

James sighed in relief. "Only levelheaded brother you've got. I'll remember to thank him later."

"Don't bother. I'm still upset, and you're the reason I'm upset, and I would really rather not discuss this just yet, James. I'm here for the children's sake, since Jack has been doing nothing but moping about, knowing that Judy is here while she isn't."

"Bloody hell, then I'm not forgiven yet?"

Her answer was to turn away and continue her unpacking. And he knew that mulish look of hers. She really wasn't going to discuss this with him, whatever it was that she was upset about. He was sure now that it had nothing to do with their daughter. But he was damned if he knew what it could be that she was obviously blaming him for, when he hadn't done anything to be blamed for,

And then he noticed her shoulders drooping, a clear indication, to his mind, that she didn't like this estrangement between them any more than he did. And of course, she wouldn't. He knew she loved him.

He took a step toward her, but made the mistake of whispering her name as well. "George."

She stiffened again, her moment of despair gone and her stubborn streak firmly back in place, lames promptly swore a blue streak, which fortunately there were no children about to hear, but unfortunately had no effect whatsoever in getting Georgina to talk to him again.

Later in the afternoon, Edward, the second oldest of the four Malory brothers, arrived with the rest of his family. It was when Edward was being "filled in" by Reggie about what they had discovered concerning the mysterious grave on the property that Amy got the feeling that The Present was not just a present. She felt that it was much more important than a mere gift, that it was actually somehow related to the mystery that was Anna Malory.

And the feeling wouldn't go away once it took root. It was so strong that she made the decision to open the gift that very night. She just was undecided about waiting until Warren fell asleep, or confiding in him. The fact that he  didn't seem to be the least bit tired, even after some vigorous lovemaking, settled the matter.

Still held in his arms, with his hands idly caressing her, she whispered by his ear, "I'm going to go downstairs and open The Present tonight."

"Of course you aren't," he replied mildly. "You'll enjoy the suspense and wait until Christmas like the rest of us to find out what it is."

"I wish I could, Warren, really I do, but I know it will drive me crazy, especially after I made a bet with Jeremy, that we would find out about our great-grandmother before the end of the year."

"After Jason expressly forbade it?"

"He didn't exactly forbid it, and besides, it's too late to take it back."

He sat up to look down at her. "And what has that to do with that present?"

"That's just it. I have the strangest feeling that what's in that box is the answer. My feelings are rarely wrong, Warren. And knowing that, how can I wait until Christmas to find out what's in that box?"

He shook his head at her and said in such a disapproving tone that she was reminded of the old Warren who never laughed or smiled, "I would expect such behavior from the children, not from their mother."

She tsked at him, not even a little daunted. "Aren't you the least bit curious?"

"Certainly, but I can wait until—"

"But I can't wait," she cut in passionately. "Come with me, Warren.  I'll be careful with it. And if it's nothing more'n a simple gift, albeit a mysterious one, then I'll have the box wrapped up again perfectly, so no one will know we tampered with it."

"You're serious about this?" he asked. "You're actually going to sneak downstairs in the middle of the night like an errant schoolgirl—"

"No, no, we are, like two perfectly sensible adults making a reasonable effort to solve a mystery that has been around far too long."

He chuckled at that point, used to his wife's strange logic, and used to her ignoring any of his attempts at sternness. But then that was the magic of Amy. She was unlike any other woman he'd ever known.

He gave in gracefully with a smile. "Very well, fetch our robes and some shoes. I would imagine the fire has been banked in the parlor, so it will be a mite chilly."

It wasn't long before they were standing next to The Present, Warren merely curious, Amy finding it hard to contain her excitement, considering what she expected to find beneath the pretty cloth wrapping. The parlor wasn't chilly at all, since whoever had left the room last had closed the doors to contain the earlier warmth, and Warren had closed them again before he lit several of the lamps.

But the doors opened once more, giving Amy quite a start since she was just reaching for The Present when it happened, and Jeremy said as he entered the room, "Caught in the act, eh? Amy, for shame."

Amy, noticeably embarrassed despite the fact that Jeremy wasn't just her cousin, but one of her closest friends, said stiffly, "And what, pray tell, are you doing down here at this hour?"

He winked at her and said dryly, "Same thing you are, I would imagine."

She chuckled then. "Scamp. Close the door while you're at it."

He started to, but stepped out of the way instead as Reggie sauntered in, barefoot and still in the process of tying her bed robe. When everyone else there just stared at her, she huffed indignantly, "I did not come down here to open The Present—well, maybe I did, but I would have chickened out before actually doing so."

"What a whopper, Reggie," Derek said as he came in right behind her. "Nice try, though. Mind if I borrow that lame excuse? Better than having none a'tall."

And Kelsey, close on his heels, said, "You amaze me, Derek. You said we'd be lucky if we were the first to open it, and goodness, you couldn't have been more right."

"Not a'tall, m'dear." He grinned at his wife. "Just know my cousins very well."

He did indeed, because next to arrive were Amy's brothers, Travis and Marshall, shoving their way through the doorway, or trying to, at the same time. So it took a moment for them to realize they weren't alone.

But one look at the crowd already present had Travis grumbling to his older brother, "Told you this wasn't a good idea."

"On the contrary, looks like we ain't the only ones who had it," Marshall replied cheerfully.

"Hell's bells, does the whole family think alike?" Jeremy asked with a chuckle.

"Hardly," Amy answered. "You don't see Uncle Jason and my father here, do you? Nor Uncle James and Tony. Not that those latter two don't think alike, they just don't think like the rest of us."