Home for Christmas by Lizzie Lane

closed behind her, she leaned against it and shut her eyes. Her heart was racing and every inch of flesh tingled. How she ached for him to touch her bare flesh, for his hand to seek out her most secretive places …
    She consoled herself with the knowledge that he had noticed what she was wearing. He loved her. She was sure of it.
    On the other side of the door, Robert Ravening raised his eyes from his book and frowned. Agnes had indeed looked very fine, the darkness of her dress complementing the delicate pallor of her skin.
    He’d also noticed her fingers playing with the silver locket she was wearing. Agnes wore it quite regularly. It was only now it occurred to him that he’d seen that locket, or a similar one, before, hanging around his mother’s neck. Perhaps they were two of a kind, he thought. He frowned as another thought took root. Had they been given as a present by the same person?

Chapter Nine
    There was a sharp rapping at Lydia’s door followed by Agnes floating in and stating that she was here to help her unpack and put her things away.
    ‘I was expecting someone called Alice,’ said Lydia, ‘though I’m very pleased to see you.’
    ‘I happened to drop a hint with Sir Avis. It’s quite easy to put an idea in his head if you know how to go about it. Not that he needed much urging. He has a high regard for your father. I hated to think of you sitting down to Christmas dinner with just your father for company.’
    Lydia grimaced. ‘No need to. I would have stayed at the hospital. There are never enough staff over Christmas. People still get ill at Christmas or have accidents or have difficulty giving birth …’
    ‘Shall I make a start?’ said Agnes, cutting in across her statement whilst eyeing the luggage Lydia had already opened.
    ‘So, what about Alice?’
    ‘I swapped. I told her to help out in the kitchen where my mother is running around like a headless chicken.’
    Lydia eyed her new friend with interest. ‘Does everyone in this house always do what you tell them to do?’
    Agnes grinned. ‘Not always, but Alice prefers to be where the food is. She likes her food, does our Alice.’
    ‘Now listen. A footman will come for the portmanteaus and your trunk once everything is put away. They’ll go into storage downstairs until you’re ready to leave,’ added Agnes, stroking one of Lydia’s dresses as she shook out the creases.
    Lydia looked towards the window and the gracious parkland beyond. The white mist had thickened, hovering among the top branches of the trees. The sky was leaden, heavy with snow.
    ‘It looks very cold out there.’ Agnes went over to the fireplace, picked up the poker and gave the coals a poke until the sides that glowed red were upended and giving out their heat.
    ‘There you are. That should keep you warm.’
    ‘It’s a lovely fire and a lovely house. I’ve never stayed in such a grand house before. Now tell me what I can expect,’ said Lydia, flexing her fingers towards the flames. ‘There won’t be any lords and ladies will there, or royalty? I’ve never met people like that.’
    ‘Of course not,’ said Agnes, shaking her head and laughing. ‘First there’s high tea in the drawing room or in your room if you’re feeling too tired to face company,’ she added, counting on her fingers. ‘Dinner is at seven and supper is at eleven, if you’re still hungry, that is, after a seven-course dinner …’
    ‘Wait! No. I don’t think so,’ said Lydia, laughing and holding her stomach. ‘My corset would give way if I ate all that.’
    ‘Just a light meal in your room?’
    ‘Yes please.’
    Agnes continued putting things away, hiding her expression as she did so. She didn’t want Lydia to see the look in her eyes, the sudden suspicion that either Lydia and Robert were alike in their tastes, or that they had met before.
    ‘Breakfast is from seven-thirty to nine-thirty,’ Agnes went on, hurrying around the room, putting away stays, skirts, blouses