Mr. Richmond’s eldest son, Victor, had tried to write it phonetically for her, which had helped to some degree. She now knew to say ‘frekadella’ with a French guttural ‘r’ and had since learned other words with his help, though most of them did require twisting her tongue into unnatural shapes in an effort to make the right sounds. It wasn’t easy, but it was fun.
“I hope you weren’t too bored during the service,” Victor said as he fell into step beside her. His English, taught to him by his father, was as perfect as any British peer’s.
“On the contrary, I found it to be an intriguing experience.” She smiled at him. “As you know, I’ve never left England before. I’m fascinated by how different Denmark is, considering you are close neighbors. Relatively speaking, that is.”
“Having travelled a fair bit myself, I can relate. Considering the staggering variety of architecture, language, and ways of life between European countries alone, I wonder what it might be like to visit India or China.”
“You’re absolutely right.”
Having reached the carriages, they waited for their parents to join them. Hands clasped behind his back, Victor watched her with a thoughtful expression. He was incredibly handsome with blonde hair and ocean blue eyes. A mouth that always appeared on the verge of smiling sat beneath a straight nose, framed by an angular jaw.
“I wonder if you would like to help me with a small task later today.” As their parents approached, he reached in front of her and opened the carriage door.
“What sort of task?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
“It’s Christmas Eve. Our nisser must receive their porridge if we’re to enjoy a peaceful evening free from mischief.”
Eva grinned. “Of course. I’d be happy to help.” She’d learned of the gnome–like creatures that supposedly lived in the attic when she’d risen from bed the first morning after her arrival and found her slippers stuffed with pinecones. Later, during one evening meal, the salt had been switched out with sugar, and when they’d all headed out for a walk yesterday, all coat pockets had been stitched shut.
“Excellent. We’ll make plans when we get home.” Victor handed Eva into the carriage. Her mother and Mrs. Richardson followed her inside while Victor went to join his younger brother, their father and hers in the other carriage.
“It looks like the two of you are getting on well,” Mama said once the conveyance was underway.
“I quite enjoy his company and hospitality.” Eva glanced across at Mrs. Richmond from whom Victor had clearly inherited his fairness. “He’s invited me to help him feed your nisser.”
“Oh good. Those little rascals switched the laces on my half–boots out with red silk ribbons a few days ago. And when my husband arrived in his study this morning, his ledgers had been wrapped in brown paper and bound with twine.”
Eva grinned. She loved this tradition and the fun it could lead to. Every morning when she woke, she looked forward to seeing what sort of new mischief the Richmond nisser had wrought overnight. Some of the pranks were so elaborate they must have involved at least two servants, possibly more.
She’d never dare suggest as much, however, since everyone in the Richmond household clearly agreed that magic was underfoot. Nisser existed, they caused mischief, and that was that. Eva was more than happy to pretend this was indeed the case since she found the whole thing highly amusing.
“I thought we might take a drive along the shoreline tomorrow,” Mr. Richmond said once luncheon had been served. “If the weather is clear you’ll be able to see Sweden.”
“There are good lakes in the area too if you like to skate,” Victor added. “And Frederiksborg Castle isn’t far. Built in the Renaissance style, it’s an impressive building worth seeing.”
“From the outside, I presume,” Eva’s father said.
“On the contrary, my wife’s connections within the Danish aristocracy will grant us a tour of the ground floor,” Mr. Richardson said. “Provided the king and queen aren’t in residence, that is.”
“In that case, I should like to see it,” Eva said. Unsure when she’d be able to travel again, she was determined to get as much out of this trip as possible.
With luncheon completed and both his and Miss Hughes’ parents off to take their afternoon naps, Victor offered his lovely houseguest his arm. She took it with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling with excitement. Auburn curls stacked into a luxurious pile at the back of her head accentuated her creamy complexion.
He’d been instantly struck by her beauty when she’d first arrived. Now, after getting to know her, deeper emotions had settled within him. During the course of his thirty–two–year existence, he’d realized he did not enjoy the continued company of one single person. Not even his closest friends could avoid getting on his nerves during house parties. Which was why he usually cut such events short by several days.
But Miss Hughes was different. Rather than vex him with her continued presence, he found himself looking for reasons to spend more time with her. He’d also started dreading her departure, which would come sooner than he cared to think of.
Her arm wound confidently around his, prompting his pulse to leap with pleasure.
“To the kitchen,” he said with exaggerated flair, earning himself a grin he’d cherish forever. He did not mind the fact that the narrow servants’ stairs leading down to the kitchen forced them closer together. Indeed, he savored the press of her shoulder and hip against his and would dearly love to–
“Do you know where this idea of nisser comes from?” she asked.
He deliberately gave her a horrified look. “Nisser are not an idea, Miss Hughes. They are as real as you and I.”
Her lips twitched. “Of course.”
“The pinecones you found in your slippers prove it,” he told her wryly.
“Along with the chocolates you found inside your box of cheroots?”
“Precisely.” He winked at her as they stepped off the stairs, to which she responded by giving his arm a playful nudge. Once again, his heart soared. Lord, but how he delighted in this woman’s company.
They reached the kitchen where Cook was busy preparing that evening’s roast for the oven. Nearby, a scullery maid peeled baby potatoes while another chopped red cabbage.
“We’ve come to fetch the porridge for nisserne,” Victor told Cook in Danish while snatching a couple of twisted fried biscuits from a nearby cooling rack.
Cook jutted her chin at a couple of bowls that stood on the counter, covered by dishtowels. “They’re just missing the butter. If you give me a second to clean my hands, I can add some.”
“No need to trouble yourself,” Victor said. “I’ll do it.”
He released Miss Hughes and located the butter along with an appropriate knife. After cutting two slivers of butter he removed the dishtowels from the still warm porridge, placed one in each, and watched it melt. Perfect. Picking up one of the bowls, he offered it to Miss Hughes. “You can take this one and I’ll take the other.”
They set off for the stables next with the crisp afternoon air biting at their cheeks. Once inside, Victor asked Miss Hughes to wait while he climbed into the hayloft to deposit the first bowl.