Free Marian's Christmas Wish by Carla Kelly

true.”
    “Done,” Lord Ingraham said in a low voice.
    She started toward the front steps and then stopped. “Beg
pardon?” she asked.
    “Oh, nothing, Marian,” he said. “Hurry inside before
you catch a cold.’’
    Percy waited for her in the front hall, his lips tight
together again, no humor in his eyes. Marian stopped where she was, just inside
the door, her hands clasped together in front of her. Gilbert stood next to
her; unconsciously she moved closer to him.
    Percy stared at her. Marian gazed back timidly. “Percy,
you are back so soon.”
    “It was too wet for Sir William,” he replied in crisp
tones. “Devon weather displeases him.” Percy folded his arms across his chest. “Marian,
the bookroom.”
    “Oh, but, Percy,” she began, “you must understand about
lunch—”
    “The bookroom,” he repeated.
    She opened her mouth to protest, but Lord Ingraham put
his hand on her shoulder and she closed it.
    “Percy,” he began, “before you take her off, let me
tell you how much I am enjoying my visit with you and your family. Such warmth,
such friendliness! I own I do not know when I have laughed as much.”
    Percy could only gape at him in surprise. “My family?”
he repeated.
    “Oh, yes, and especially Marian and Alistair. How you
must enjoy the pleasure of their company. I truly envy you.”
    Marian marveled at the diplomat’s art. Under the
protection of Lord Ingraham, she looked at her brother, who was looking back at
her with an expression less perilous than the one that greeted her.
    “I do enjoy their company, despite their hey-go-mad
ways,” Percy said, relaxing, and for a moment Marian saw the brother she
remembered, the one less burdened with care. She almost said something, but
reconsidered. This could be one of those times to remain silent and let another
take the lead.
    Lord Ingraham did not fail her. “And if you would, if
you had the time before dinner, could I make a request?”
    “Certainly, sir. Only ask.”
    “That chestnut in your stable. The one with a blaze?
Could you show him to me? I want a good horse, and I like the looks of that
one, provided, of course, Lady Wynswich will consent to part with him.”
    Percy’s interview with Marian was forgotten. “Only let
me put on my riding boots, and we’ll try out that horse. I think a ride about
the place would be welcome, that is, if you don’t mind the rain.”
    “Not at all. People tell me that Devon is lovely, even
when it’s wet.”
    Percy looked at his sister, coaxed a smile out of her,
and started for the stairs. “You, sir, have been listening too long to Marian.
I’ll be right back.”
    Lord Ingraham seemed to remember himself and removed
his hand from Marian’s shoulder. “There, brat, I saved your bacon. Promise me
you will exercise a little discretion this evening at table.”
    “I will never say a word, sir,” she replied, and felt
suddenly shy. “You were magnificent, my lord. But do you really want to buy a
horse? You needn’t go that far.”
    “I am looking for a prime goer. If I am posted to the United States, as I hope I am, I want to bring along my own mount. And frankly, my dear,
your papa’s stables were famous.”
    “Yes, they were,” she agreed, pleased that for the
first time, the thought gave her no sadness. She tugged at his sleeve. “And do
you know, once the Prince Regent himself came here to look over Papa’s stable?”
She glanced about her for Percy, and lowered her voice. “But he was too much of
a nip-farthing to buy one.” She considered the subject. “And I do not think we
had a horse big enough to hold him up, now that I consider it.”
    “Marian, do you always say what comes to mind?” asked
Lord Ingraham.
    “Why, no, sir. Only just a moment ago when Percy was
acting the perfect dragon, I refrained. I thought you might rescue me.”
    Gilbert threw back his head and laughed. “You are
utterly incorrigible. I wonder that anyone tolerates you.”
    Marian released