Catherine Coulter - Lyons Gate

“Oh yes. We had competitions. I believe that Alice and I won the last one, only three days before I left.”

“ Alice?” Douglas asked. “Oh yes, she’s the youngest, isn’t she?”

Jason nodded. “She’s all of four years old, has a mop of red curls, and a precious lisp. She sang the American anthem at the top of her lungs, all of it while we danced, demanded that I sing it along with her. Everyone was laughing so hard when we finished that Alice claimed the prize while everyone was too weak to argue.”

Hallie said when everyone stopped laughing, “And what was the prize?”

He opened his mouth, then closed it. “Nothing much of anything, really. Now, when was the last time you saw Mrs. Tewksbury?”

“I was all of seventeen. My father and Genny asked her to visit Carrick Grange for the Christmas season. She’s in love with my father, but every woman is since he is the most beautiful man in the world. Genny paid it no mind since Angela is of the age to be Genny’s mother. She is something of an original.”

“You honestly believe your father is more beautiful than James and Jason?” Corrie asked, her fork stopped six inches from her mouth.

“Certainly. If the three of them were walking down the street, the ladies would all try to chase my father down. If my father were too fast to be caught, only then would they turn to James and Jason.”

James said quickly, before Corrie hurled a forkful of eggs at Miss Carrick, “No matter. I am looking forward to meeting the original Mrs. Tewksbury.”

Alex said, “As for me, I want to meet Hallie’s father.”

Douglas said, eyebrow hoisted up, “You, my dear wife, may observe Alec Carrick from a distance if ever he chances to appear. Is that clear?”

“You always order me about so prettily, Douglas.”

James said, before Corrie could accuse Hallie of being a blind moron, “Now, Jason, you’ve had ten men hammering, painting, carrying wood, not including the three of us, and ten women scrubbing, with Hallie supervising all of us. You’ve agreed on furniture, have you not?”

Jason said, “Surprisingly enough, we managed to come to agreement, for the most part, and that includes draperies and paint colors as well. I scarce remember how bad the house looked when I first saw it. And the paddocks, all freshly painted, the tack room-” and on and on he went, his family so very pleased they smiled and nodded and asked questions even though they’d heard this nearly same recital every evening. When finally no one could think of another question to ask him, James turned to Hallie, “When are you taking your mare to Lyon ’s Gate?”

She said, “Piccola’s stable is all ready for her, but she will remain here until Jason and I actually move to Lyon ’s Gate. Did I tell you-”

Unfortunately, Hallie wasn’t the long absent son of the house, and was cut off by Corrie. “Oh yes, you told us all about her, Hallie. Goodness, Jason, another week and even the furniture will be there. This is marvelous. And less than an hour’s ride from Northcliffe. We are all so very pleased, particularly my husband.” She beamed at him only to see that Hallie and Jason were now arguing in low voices. It was so common to see them going at it, she said something sure to snag Hallie’s attention. “Hallie, you’re very nearly as beautiful a woman as Jason is a man.”

Hallie turned in her chair so quickly, she knocked over her teacup. She stared at Jason’s sister-in-law and found herself without a word to say. As for Jason, he was laughing.

Hallie said, “Well, thank you, Corrie. However, truth be told, I am only a very vague copy of my father.”

Corrie said, “Come now, Hallie, he’s your father, thus you see him with less objectivity than you would another man. Come now, admit it.”

But Hallie shook her head. “Wait and see.”

As everyone filed out of the breakfast room, Alex placed her hand on her husband’s arm. “Do you know, everything has changed so utterly since Jason came home. I’m quite enjoying myself.”

Douglas looked ahead at Hallie and Jason, still arguing about God knew what, and said thoughtfully, “I wonder.”

Alex said, “Don’t wonder, I beg of you. Can you believe that Hallie and your mother had a fine time visiting Lyon ’s Gate? Hallie told me later that when she confessed to Lady Lydia her partnership with Jason, your mother told her to take the upper hand as soon as possible because her two precious grandsons were stubborn as stoats. But then again, she told Hallie, all gentlemen were stubborn and used to getting their own way. Since, she told Hallie, she’d lived eight decades she’d witnessed this many times and Hallie would be wise to take note of it.”

Douglas laughed. “If you had been the one to tell her, she would have accused you of fostering immorality and God knows what else.”

“Well, I must say I’m relieved that Hallie was the one who told her. I thought that at last she’d blast her.”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.”

“I can’t help it. Do you know that Hallie took both Lady Lydia and Hollis to Lyon ’s Gate yesterday in the carriage? She even thought to bring a picnic lunch.”

“Yes, I knew. Hollis was grinning from ear to ear, told me about everything going on, just as Jason does every single evening.”

Alex sighed. “Why would Lady Lydia like Hallie Carrick so very much and detest me?”

“I’ve thought about that. I think it’s because Hallie jumped her before she could get the bit in her mouth and chew on it. I think it would behoove both you and Corrie to learn a lesson from this. It might be too late, but who knows?”

“Hmm. Are you going to work at Lyon ’s Gate today?”

Douglas shook his head. “With James gone all the time, I must see to business here.”

She went up on her tiptoes, drew him down to her, and whispered against his ear, “I haven’t minded rubbing down your sore muscles, my lord.”

“I married a baggage, thank God.”

Lyon ’s Gate Five Days Later

“ Everett! Don’t eat that nail!”

Three adults and Martha ran toward the little boy, but his mother was the fastest. Corrie whipped him up in her arms, pulled the nail out of his hand, spit on her handkerchief and wiped his mouth. “No, no, no!” she yelled in his face and shook him for good measure.

Everett stared at his mother, screwed up his face, threw back his head and yowled.

His twin, Douglas, grabbed his mother’s skirt and yanked hard. Corrie, both hands trying to hold Everett still, crooned down to Douglas, “Just a moment, baby, just another moment, and Mama will pick you up too.”

Everett ’s voice went up another octave. Douglas screwed up his face, opened his mouth and matched his twin’s volume. Martha patted their hands. “Heavenly groats, my lady, me own little brother niv-never-made so much racket as these little nits.”

Jason called out, “Who wants to waltz with me?”

There was an instant of complete silence, then, “I do!”

“I do!”

“Me first, Uncle Jason!”

Everett was trying to pull away from his mother and Douglas was jumping up and down, now pulling on Jason’s dirty pant leg.

Jason, laughing, picked up Douglas and gathered Everett to his other side, and called out, “I need some music, please.”

Hallie, who’d come running out of the house at Everett ’s yells, didn’t hesitate. She started singing one of Duchess Wyndham’s ditties, written some twenty years before and still a favorite in the king’s navy. She sang it in three-quarter time to a popular waltz tune so the words fit the rhythm of a waltz, for the most part, making anyone listening laugh his head off.

Jason whirled and dipped and glided. The twins laughed and shrieked. Every adult within one hundred feet stopped working to watch, and listen.

“ ’E ain’t the man to shout ‘Please, my dear!’

’E’s only a lout who shouts ‘Bring me a beer!’

’E’s a bonny man wit’ a bonny lass

Who troves ’im a tippler right on ’is ass.

And to hove and to trove we go, my boys,

We’ll shout as we please till ship’s ahoy!”

Three of the workers knew the ditty and began singing along with Hallie. They were all swaying, then Mackie, a bricklayer, yelled to one of the women, “Meg, come dance wit’ me!”

Soon there were at least four couples waltzing, Martha herself doing very well with young Thomas the blacksmith’s son, who had just celebrated his tenth birthday. Alex heard her say, “She’s my mistress, she is. Jest listen to those beautiful pipes inside her purty self.”

The dowager countess, Lady Lydia, hummed and swayed in her chair, in blessed shade beside the front door, Angela Tewksbury at her side, laughing, trying to clap her hands in three-quarter waltz time.

Hollis stood in the doorway smiling benignly, foot tapping. He caught Jason’s eye and pointed to the platter and formed the words lemonade, biscuits. Jason whispered in Everett ’s ear, then in Douglas ’s. To his astonishment, both little boys grabbed him around the neck and yelled,

“Dance!”

“Dance!”

It required another full rendition of the sailor’s song before the twins decided they wanted lemonade, all because Hollis was drinking a big glass, letting a dribble run down his chin, not three feet from them.

Soon they were seated on a blanket in the shade next to Lady Lydia and Mrs. Tewksbury, a plate of cakes and biscuits on the blanket between them. They were jabbering in twin talk, each trying to grab the most cakes.

“Give me water, Hollis,” Jason said, breathing hard. “Merciful heavens those two have more energy than Eliza Dickers. I don’t think even she wore me out as much as those two.”