Mackenzie Family Christmas (The Perfect Gift)(33)

Beth understood. The last thing Cat's mother had given her would be precious, not to be touched. Beth's mother had given her a hair ribbon a month before she'd passed, for which she'd saved up her wages. Beth had kept it safely wrapped in paper ever after. She still had it.

She didn't miss the flash of pain in Sinclair's eyes. The death of Mrs. McBride had cut this family deeply.

Ian sat a little apart from the children, watching them laugh and squeal as they pulled tissue from their gifts. None of the boxes to Jamie and Belle had come from him, though Beth had assured them that the new scarves, hats, gloves, tin soldiers, and dolls had come from both Mama and Papa.

Ian only sat, arms on knees, and watched. As Beth started for him, one of the footmen flung open the door to admit Hart, who strode in like a king, his arms loaded with boxes. The six Mackenzie children and Andrew McBride swarmed him, and even Catriona looked up in interest.

"One at a time," Hart roared. The children paid no attention. They grabbed on to his coat or hem of his kilt, and half followed, half dragged him into the room.

Hart deposited the boxes onto a large table, sank into an empty chair much too small for him, and lifted the three smallest Mackenzies--Gavina, Robert, and Belle--to his lap. The others gathered around, talking at once, reaching for the boxes. Hart's visit to the nursery was always An Event.

Ainsley, Beth, and Isabella distributed the gifts, while the other gentlemen retired with Daniel to the side of the room and made what they supposed were sotto voce remarks.

"He looks like a papa bear with all his cubs, doesn't he?" Mac asked.

"A dancing bear," Cameron said.

"They like him," Ian said. "He's kind. He pretends not to be."

"He pretends very well," Daniel said, grinning.

"Yes," Ian answered.

Hart completely ignored them. He helped small fingers undo the parcels, listened to oohs and aahs at the extravagant toys, many made by the best toy makers in Germany, Switzerland, and France.

"Where's Aunt Eleanor?" Jamie asked.

"Resting," Hart said. "If you are good--and quiet--you can go see her later. She has to stay in bed right now."

"We're always quiet, Uncle Hart," Andrew shouted. "Cat's quieter than me."

"We know, Andrew." Hart gave him a severe look, which he softened as he handed the boy a package. "Something for you."

Aimee held out a paper hat to him. "You have to wear the crown, Uncle Hart," she said. "You're the king of the castle. Next year, your little baby will be the prince or princess."

Hart took the hat with solemn thanks, unfolded it, and put it on his head. His brothers guffawed in the corner.

"Suits you, Uncle Hart," Daniel called. "Truly."

Hart again ignored them, giving his full attention to the children. Beth however, had seen his flash of fear when Aimee had mentioned the baby.

The man was terrified. He feared losing Eleanor and the new child in the same way he'd lost his first wife and infant son. From the dark smudges under his eyes, Hart hadn't been sleeping. Beth would go to Eleanor after the children were finished opening gifts and look after her, to try to give Hart some relief.

Ian stood up abruptly. "Jamie," he said. "Come with me."

Jamie immediately set down the windup soldier Hart had given him, jumping over the empty boxes and crush of tissue and ribbon. Belle slid from Hart's lap, toddling determinedly after her brother.

"Now?" Daniel asked.

"Now," Ian said.

Daniel gave a whoop to rival Andrew's and raced out of the room ahead of Ian. Ian scooped up Belle and handed her to Beth before he leaned down and lifted his two-year-old son.

Saying nothing, Ian followed Daniel out the door, Beth behind him. Hart, eclipsed, growled for the children to not leave the room like a stampede of elephants.

Daniel led them down the stairs and around to Ian's wing, then back up to the sitting room in which Daniel and Ian had spent so much time.

"Wait," Ian said sternly.

Daniel stopped at the door, turning so his back was against it, his hand on the door handle. "Don't worry. I know how this is done."

"Jamie gets to start it."

"Yes, I know. We've talked about it a hundred times."

Ian kept his frown in place. He might plan something over and over, but when the time came for the execution, he'd meticulously make certain that every step was carried out in exact order. He drove everyone mad in the process, but his plans usually worked.

"Do hurry, Ian," Beth said. "I'm on tenterhooks."

"You do have us all a bit curious," Ainsley said, her daughter in her arms.

Ian gave Daniel a nod. "Open the door."

Daniel pulled a key from his pocket, turned it in the lock, and very slowly swung open the door. Beth took a step forward, but both Ian and Daniel moved to block her path.