Mrs. Archer looked at Clara. “Which reminds me, Miss Hartwright, I must apologize to you.”

Clara lowered her teacup to her lap. “Ma’am?”

“I expected Mr. Cross to accompany you back from the stable. I’d no intention of you walking up the road alone. Certainly not in this weather.”

“It was no trouble,” Clara replied. In truth, she was so used to being disregarded, it hadn’t even occurred to her that Mr. Cross might escort her back to the house. She doubted whether it had occurred to him either.

He’d given her such a look before she’d stepped out into the rain, his face rife with impatience and barely veiled frustration. He’d plainly been anxious to see the back of her.

“Neville prefers being with the animals,” Mr. Thornhill said. “He’ll withdraw to the stables the whole of the holiday if we allow it.”

Lady Helena took a delicate sip of her tea. “Quite. Which is precisely why we must keep him occupied here at the house.”

Mrs. Bainbridge’s gaze flicked to Clara. “I pray he won’t be overburdened with looking after your dog.”

Five additional sets of eyes immediately fixed on Clara. Heat flooded her cheeks. If a hole had opened in the ground, she’d have gladly leapt into it.

“You’ve brought a dog with you?” Lady Helena asked.

“Yes.” Clara moistened her lips. “A very small one.”

Mr. Thornhill gave her an interested look. “What kind of dog?”

“An antique pug,” Mr. Archer replied with a laugh. “The oldest one I’ve ever seen.”

“Too old to be any trouble,” Mr. Hayes said.

“No, indeed.” Mrs. Archer turned to Lady Helena. “But we didn’t like to presume on your hospitality. Miss Hartwright has left him in the stable for the time being.”

Lady Helena smiled. “You must bring him up to the house, Miss Hartwright. He can stay in your room with you if you like, or in the kitchens.”

Clara couldn’t hide her relief. “Thank you, ma’am.”

“Not at all. We’ll be so busy until Twelfth Night. You won’t wish to be always walking down to the stables.”

Mr. Thornhill rested his hand on Lady Helena’s shoulder. “My wife intends to keep us well entertained this month.”

“Do you have many festivities planned, my lady?” Mrs. Bainbridge asked.

“Oh yes.” Lady Helena beamed. “We shall be trimming a tree, gilding walnuts and acorns, and hanging holly and mistletoe. The gentlemen have promised to find a yule log for us, and Cook is making a Christmas feast. I’m determined it will be the happiest Christmas in memory.”

Mr. Thornhill gazed down at his wife. His harsh features softened. “And it will be.”

Lady Helena covered his hand with hers, giving it a discreet squeeze. “I must delegate many of my duties of course, but with a little help—”

“You have mine,” Mrs. Archer said. “I’m completely at your service.”

Mrs. Bainbridge set her teacup down on the marble-topped table beside her chair. “If you’re in need of an extra pair of hands, you must make free to utilize Miss Hartwright.”