Читать книгу Candlelit Christmas Kisses: Captain Moorcroft's Christmas Bride / Governess Under the Mistletoe - Anne Herries, Anne Herries - Страница 11

‘I THINK he looks like a pirate,’ Millie said, though since she’d never seen one, other than in drawings in her book of tales of the sea, she could hardly be called an expert. ‘He is very bold and handsome—and his eyes laugh at one.’

‘And where did you see Mr Norton?’ Amy challenged as she looked up from her embroidery the morning after the earl’s arrival. ‘I hope you didn’t go marching into the earl’s wing?’

‘Selina said I might continue to use the library, but I was to leave if the earl asked me to. I knocked at the door and Mr Norton was there. He invited me in and he was nice.’

‘Yes, he is nice,’ Amy agreed. ‘I think he must have been as handsome as the earl before he was so horribly wounded.’

‘I like him as he is now,’ Millie avowed. ‘He told me he intends to catalogue the library and set it to rights. I asked if I could help, because I know where a lot of the books are, and he said if I was very careful and used gloves to handle the older, more valuable books, I could. He made me promise not to take a book away without noting it in his ledger, and I promised.’

‘It sounds as if he likes you, Millie. If you’d been four years older, he might have married you. You could have lived here as his wife then.’

‘He has an estate of his own in Devon. When the earl marries, he will go home and marry himself.’

‘How do you know that?’ Amy gasped.

‘Because I heard them talking last night.’

‘What do you mean?’ Amy stared at her. ‘You didn’t go into their wing—Oh, Millie. Selina warned you not to. The earl might have been so angry.’

‘Well, I left something in the minstrels’ gallery. I had to fetch it or—or they might have thought it belonged to them, and it doesn’t.’

‘Millie …’ Amy looked at her in sudden suspicion. ‘What have you done? If you’ve stolen something of the earl’s, you must give it back at once and apologise.’

‘I haven’t stolen anything … not from the earl.’ Millie glanced guiltily over her shoulder. ‘Please do not tell Selina, but I brought the Book of Hours with me in my trunk. I know she said I shouldn’t, but Papa gave it to me—truly he did, Amy. I’m not lying.’

‘I know he told you you could have it,’ Amy said. ‘But in truth he had no right, Millie. Selina is correct when she says it belongs to the estate. If Cousin Joshua discovers it is missing, he will come here and ask Selina where it went. He is within his rights to demand that you return it. It is medieval and so precious, my love.’

‘It would be precious to me if it wasn’t worth any money,’ Millie said, but hung her head. ‘I know I shouldn’t have done it, Amy—but I did, and there’s nothing we can do now, is there?’

‘We shall have to see what happens,’ Amy said. ‘Hush, now, Selina is coming. I think she has been going over the accounts with the earl.’

‘I do hope she isn’t upset. She looked as if she might cry when she came back from seeing him last night.’

‘Well, here you are,’ Selina said as she entered the parlour. ‘I was thinking we might take a walk to the village this afternoon. I wanted to call on the vicar and ask if he and his wife would like to dine with us tomorrow. I am planning a party the week after next, and he will know who we should ask to our first dinner.’

‘A dinner party?’ Millie said. ‘It’s my birthday that week. Is it for my birthday, Selina? If so, I should like to invite Mr Norton.’

‘I expect we shall invite both the earl and Mr Norton. Lord Moorcroft intends to bring a chef from London in time for Christmas, and he is bringing down one of the large oak trestle tables from the attics. I think he will use the great hall as a dining parlour when he entertains, and his smaller parlour when he and Mr Norton wish to dine alone.’

‘Why can they not take all their meals with us?’ Millie asked. ‘I like Mr Norton and—and the earl doesn’t seem too bad if you ignore his scowls. He doesn’t always know he is scowling, you know. Mr Norton says his bark is worse than his bite.’

‘Millie!’ Selina shook her head but smiled at her sister. ‘You shouldn’t say such things, even if Mr Norton does. He has the privilege of friendship. I have offered the earl the service of Cook, should he wish to accept, but he says it is to be a temporary arrangement. However, since there is only one kitchen, the arrival of a London chef may cause some friction.’

‘I thought he meant to stay only a short time,’ Amy said with a frown. ‘That his intention was to bring an architect from London, make plans to pull the house down and have drawings made for a new one.’

‘I have not been informed of any changes in the earl’s plans,’ Selina said. ‘He did compliment me on how pleasant his wing is since I had the furniture rearranged, and he sent his regards to you, Amy. He thanks you for the flowers but says he will not trouble you in future.’

‘Oh …’ Amy sighed with disappointment. ‘I enjoyed doing them, but if he does not wish for flowers … I have plenty to do here.’

‘Exactly.’ Selina’s eyes glittered with pride. ‘The west wing is the earl’s home and this is ours. As long as we remember that, there will be no conflict of interest.’

‘Mr Norton says I can help him in the library, but I am to go away if the earl wants to work there,’ Millie said. ‘I wish he was the earl. We could all be together then, like a family.’

‘Just remember you are a guest in the earl’s house, Millie. We may think of entertaining a few friends at Christmas, but then we shall have to start packing our things ready to move again.’

‘Do we really have to?’ Millie made a face. ‘I should like to stay here for ever and ever.’

‘Well, you can’t,’ Amy told her. ‘I hate the idea of this house being pulled down, but we can’t stop it.’ She stood up. ‘I’ve decided I’m going to draw the outside of the house from various angles. I want a memory I can keep. And if you behave, I shall colour one for your birthday, Millie.’

‘Will you draw the minstrels’ gallery and the priest holes for me?’

‘I should have to do them from memory.’

‘Mr Norton would let you draw them if you asked.’

‘Yes, he might—but he would have to ask the earl for his permission,’ Selina said. ‘I think there can be no objection to your drawing the house, Amy. Even if the earl does not appreciate it, he might like to have one of your drawings to remind him of what it looked like one day.’

‘I think I shall make a start now—before nuncheon,’ Amy said. ‘Will the gentlemen be joining us in the breakfast parlour?’

‘I think the earl has asked to be served in his own parlour or the library. He has tea tables, which will do for such a meal, but no dining table—except the huge one that almost fills one end of the great hall.’

‘How silly of him to bother with all that when he could dine with us,’ Amy said. ‘Please excuse me, Selina. I must fetch my painting things.’

‘And I must …’ Selina looked about herself and felt suddenly at a loss. She had hardly had a moment to spare since they’d arrived, but the house was now in good order, and the earl had lifted the burden of the estate from her shoulders. ‘I think I shall do some embroidery until nuncheon. This afternoon I shall walk to the vicarage.’

Amy departed in search of her sketching things. Millie followed her, saying she had mislaid a book she wanted, and Selina was left to amuse herself. She picked up a piece of embroidery, put it down again, and wandered over to the window. It was too nice a day to stay indoors, and she was restless now that so much of her work had been taken over by the earl.

Her interview with the earl had gone well enough. He’d seemed impressed with her accounting and had agreed that his uncle had been systematically cheated by his agent, and perhaps by other servants who had since left his employ.

‘There is little I can do now,’ he’d said with a rueful look. ‘But I shall send a new lease to the tenant who has not paid his rent for some years, together with a bill for money owed. If he has receipts from my uncle’s agents, he must present them. I shall then have proof of theft and can prosecute.’

‘I agree you should pursue this matter,’ Selina had replied. ‘It was wicked of them to do such a thing—and unfair to the tenant if he believed he was paying rent to the earl.’

‘Unless he was in on the scam?’

‘Yes, I suppose he might have been, since he would soon have been able to claim the land.’

‘My uncle was at fault, but his grief made him ill. I think he knew he was being cheated—which was why, at the last, he asked me to help. After his last surviving son died, he had no one else to turn to.’

‘You did not expect to inherit?’

‘How could I? When I was young, he had three sons. I enjoyed staying here then, but later, after my aunt and her two younger sons died, it became a house of sorrow. My cousin John left home as soon as he could escape—only to die in an accident—and I was glad to purchase my colours and go to war. I thought it would be glorious …’

‘I fear you found it otherwise,’ Selina said, faltering as she saw the frost in his eyes. ‘You must have been reluctant to come back to a house you remembered as being dark and empty.’

‘I was extremely reluctant,’ the earl said, and frowned. ‘I did not expect so many changes, Miss Searles.’

‘Oh … forgive me. I merely wanted to make it comfortable for you, sir.’

‘As you have. I was pleasantly surprised. And the wing you are using has never looked so well. I don’t know what you’ve done. I’m sure it did not look so comfortable before.’

‘I changed the furniture, took some pretty pieces to the wing—and of course the spinet and some of the things in my parlour are Mama’s.’

‘Ah, that explains it,’ he said. ‘My own wing needs a little more of what you have, I think.’

‘You wish me to return the furniture I have borrowed?’

‘No, not at all. I have some things of my own which will make the changes I require.’

‘Oh … I thought … Someone said they were to remain in store until you rebuild …’ Selina blushed. ‘Forgive me. I am presuming too much.’

‘It was my intention to leave the crates as they are, but now I see no reason to do so. The house has a certain appeal it formerly lacked, Miss Searles. Henry tells me it would be sacrilege if I were to tear it down—though he concedes the east wing needs some modernisation.’

‘Yes, it is not in as good a condition as the rest of the house,’ Selina said. ‘However, there is nothing that someone after the style of Mr Adam or Mr Sheraton could not put right—a designer with a delicate, modern touch, but simple rather than ornate. This house does not need all the French gilding that is becoming so popular—’ Once again she broke off as the earl’s brows rose. ‘Forgive me. It is your house, not mine.’

‘Yes, I rather fancy it is,’ he replied, giving her a brooding look that made her stomach clench. ‘However, I think I agree with you. Henry forbids me to give it the Italianate touch I first thought of …’

Seeing the glint in his eye and guessing that he was provoking her, Selina refused to rise to the bait. ‘I daresay your architect will be disappointed if you change your mind about pulling the house down.’

‘I have not yet completely decided,’ he replied, the brooding look returning to his eyes.

‘No? Well, you have plenty of time. After Christmas we shall make plans to leave as soon as we can, and you will have the house to yourself.’

‘There is no particular hurry,’ he said, surprising her. ‘I understand you mean to give a small party? I may invite a few friends myself—but it cannot be a large party, for I am still in mourning for my uncle.’

‘As we are for Mama,’ Selina assured him. ‘However, she would want us to have a small dinner party, and we shall trim the house—our wing, of course—and shall give each other presents. My sisters have been grieving for too long, sir. I wish to make this as good a Christmas for them as I can; though I cannot give them expensive gifts, they shall have something nice.’

‘It is an age since Christmas was celebrated in that way in this house.’ The earl narrowed his eyes. ‘Do you think I should bring the Yule log into the great hall? You could entertain your guests there, if you wished.’

‘I think my sisters would like to see the Yule log brought in, if you will permit? However, I shall only invite six or eight guests at most. We should get lost in your great hall, my lord.’

‘Yes, I suppose so. Unless my guests were here, too.’

‘Would it not become a large party, then?’

‘Perhaps.’ He shook his head. ‘We shall discuss this again another day, Miss Searles. If you will excuse me? There is much to do.’

‘Yes, I know.’

Selina had bitten back the words she’d longed to say. She could easily have helped him cast his accounts, for she had a talent for figures that amazed most people who were unable to see how she could simply look at a column of figures and come up with the correct answer without making notes or scribbling. Several people had challenged her totals in the past, particularly when she’d corrected their mistakes, but when they checked, they had invariably been forced to concede that she was right.

‘I shall not disturb you again, sir—but you are welcome to dine with us every night until you make your own arrangements; and I know Cook will be happy to send a light lunch to you here.’

He had thanked her, and she had left him to a task she was sure he did not wish to tackle—a task which would have been a pleasure to her. More than once she had been tempted to offer her services, but he would have thought her presumptuous, and she did not wish to try his patience, for he had been generous—almost too generous.

Had Selina not been aware that he was gaining as much from the arrangement as she, her sense of pride must have made her leave at once. It was an unusual arrangement, and one that some might think not quite proper. Yet she could see no reason why they should not live in harmony, providing both respected the invisible lines between them. They were under the same roof, and yet there were two separate households—which was quite respectable. If it were not for the library, which could be entered from either wing, they might lock their doors and be entirely shut off one from the other. She wondered if the earl had considered locking the door into his wing—or whether she ought to. However, that would mean Millie would be restricted.

Surely there was no harm in them all meeting on mutual ground?

It was no good. She must find something to fill her time—and put the earl and his affairs out of her mind. She would be here for only a few more weeks, and then she would probably never see him again.

Feeling the tightness in her chest as she realised how much pain that would cause her, Selina scolded herself for being foolish. He was not the man she had kissed in those moonlit gardens. He had been young, carefree, and on the verge of a great adventure. For some reason his life had turned sour, and he had forgotten the girl he’d promised to return to and wed one day—as she ought to have forgotten him long ago.

He had never intended to keep his promise. It had been just the foolish flirting of a young man who had drunk too much, perhaps because he was a little afraid of his future despite being on a high of excitement. Selina smiled at the memory and told herself to let it go. The Earl was a very different man. He could have no interest in a girl of her age, who had little fortune and was at the moment acting as his unpaid housekeeper.

She would take a turn in the gardens. The sun was shining, and with her fur-lined cloak about her shoulders, she would not feel the cold.

‘What are you looking at?’ Henry asked as he entered the library and saw his friend standing by the long French windows. He joined him, looked out, and saw the two young women. One had set up an easel and was sketching; the other was watching her and smiling as she encouraged her efforts. ‘Yes, they do make a pretty picture, Robert. Which do you have your eye on—Miss Searles or her charming sister?’

‘Neither,’ Robert replied, and moved away from the window. ‘I leave such things to you, Nor. Either of them would make you a comfortable wife, for they are both charming in their different ways.’

‘Miss Searles seems very capable of running a house like this. You should take advantage while you have the chance, Robert. You spoke of needing a wife, and I daresay she might be grateful for the chance to be mistress here.’

There was a teasing look in Henry’s eyes, but Robert did not reply in kind. His brow furrowed as he glanced at the accounts and wondered why he had found them so unappealing once Miss Searles had left the room.

What was it about her? He felt it was important, but the pain had crowded out all his happier memories. The men who had suffered and died—the women who had been raped, beaten and murdered by rampaging soldiers, some of them English—had filled his mind. Especially Juanita, the lovely young woman he’d tried but failed to save.

‘I keep thinking I should remember Miss Searles,’ he said. ‘There is something at the back of my mind … an elusive memory. It’s stupid, I know, but I feel it’s important.’

‘You could hardly have known her before you joined the army, Robert. It is more than seven years … she would still have been in the schoolroom.’

‘How old is she, do you think?’

‘I believe she will be four and twenty next spring.’

‘No more than three and twenty?’ Robert was surprised. ‘She seems older. I would have said six and twenty at least.’

‘It is her black gowns and the way she pulls her hair back,’ Henry said. ‘Miss Millie told me that she is thirteen next week, Amy is nearly twenty, and Selina is three and twenty. I see no reason why she should lie. I find her sometimes tactless, but always truthful. She told me my face is a bit ugly, but she thinks I was handsome once and she likes me. If I like she will marry me when she is seventeen—especially if I bring her here to live.’

‘Good grief!’ Robert shouted with laughter. ‘The chit is certainly not lost for words.’

Henry smiled. ‘I find her honesty refreshing. She has no idea of causing offence or hurt, and none is taken, I assure you.’

‘You wouldn’t think of it—of marrying her in a few years’ time?’

‘Miss Millie … no,’ Henry said, but he looked self-conscious.

‘You’ve fallen for one of them. Is it Miss Searles?’ Robert narrowed his gaze. ‘No, it’s Miss Amy, isn’t it? Good Lord! You’ve only known her a day, Nor. You can’t be serious. You must be ten years her senior.’

‘Eleven, actually,’ Henry said, and smiled ruefully. ‘Ridiculous, isn’t it? One smile and that was it. I can’t believe it happened like that … out of the blue. I thought that kind of love was a myth, but it isn’t. I’m too old and too ugly for her. She was kind and made a point of looking at me without flinching, but I know she could never feel anything for me. However, I’m afraid that I’ve lost my heart. She’s the woman I want, Robert. Not that I shall allow her to see it. She is too far above me.’

‘Ridiculous! You are the best man I know—the staunchest friend, the kindest person I’ve ever met.’

‘For God’s sake,’ Henry said, revolted. ‘I can do without that rubbish, Robert. No, it is a lost cause. I know it. But I shall do all I can for her without making myself a nuisance.’

‘She might welcome an offer. You may not be the richest man in England, but you have no need to be my secretary.’

‘You would be lost without me—and I without you,’ Henry said simply. ‘Please forget I spoke. I should not have told you.’

‘Well, you must do as you think best, of course.’ Robert looked thoughtful. ‘It does happen, you know—love that strikes out of the blue. I remember once at a dance in Bath … No! It can’t be …’ He stopped and a look of pleasure came to his eyes. ‘Her name … yes, I’m certain it was Selina … but she looks so different …’

‘What are you saying?’ Henry asked, intrigued. ‘Have you remembered where you know Miss Searles from?’

‘Yes, I think I have.’ Robert grinned at him. ‘How could I have forgotten? It seems so long ago … like another lifetime. But of course I was a different man then.’

‘You actually knew her?’

‘Not exactly knew.’ Robert laughed and shook his head. ‘Do not ask, Nor, for I shall not tell you. I am only just beginning to remember—some of the details escape me. It was just before I left to join my regiment—and I was a little drunk that night. Actually, I was very drunk, but I remember this girl … she was so beautiful, like an angel …’

‘You are talking of Miss Searles? She is beautiful, of course, or she might be if she dressed differently—but an angel? That implies innocence?’

‘She must have been all of sixteen at the time. Too young to have been out, of course. I cannot imagine what her mama was about, taking her to a ball at that age.’

‘No doubt she kept a watchful eye on her?’

‘Perhaps. I cannot recall much of what happened, but …’ Robert smiled oddly. ‘No, do not question me with your eyes. I shall not reveal a lady’s indiscretion or my own. Good grief! Do you think she remembers?’

‘Perhaps. It depends on what you did or said that night, Robert—does she have cause to remember?’

‘To be honest, I can’t remember what I said to her, but I think I danced with her and then …’ He shook his head. ‘She must have forgotten. We only met once. Besides, I have changed so much—as has she.’ He frowned. ‘I wonder why she hasn’t married.’

‘I daresay she did not have the chance. Millie has told me their sad history. Her papa gambled their money away, and there was none for Selina or Amy to have a season, and then, when he was desperate, he killed himself. That sent their mother—who was always delicate—into a decline. The will allowed them to live in the house until she died, but then … Well, you know the rest.’

‘You’ve certainly been busy!’

‘Millie is very forthcoming—particularly when one talks to her as an equal. I think her sisters tend to treat her as a child, which she assures me she isn’t. I think I agree with her. Like Miss Searles, she has had grief and responsibility thrust upon her, and she has grown up faster than her years—which is sad, in a way.’

‘Yes, for all of them.’

‘Miss Amy seems the least affected. She does not show it in her manner—she has a joy in life that is hard to resist.’

‘You are smitten,’ Robert said dryly. ‘You should definitely propose, my dear Nor.’

‘We shall see how things progress. I would marry her rather than see harm come to any of them.’

‘How gallant,’ Robert drawled. ‘You were ever the gentleman. I fear I am a careless devil and shall not lose my heart so easily.’

‘What of the angel you met so briefly?’ Henry raised his brows.

‘She no longer exists. Somewhere along the way, she died, as did the dashing captain of her dreams. If she ever dreamed of me. I daresay she thought me an uncouth drunk who made free with her person … and breathe a word of that to another person and I’ll wring your neck.’

‘As if I would,’ Henry said, and smiled. ‘You know, Robert, I had wondered if you were lost to us for good—but I think there may just be a chance for you yet.’

‘Forget any foolish idea of romance, Nor. You may have fallen in love with Amy, but my heart is untouched. It died one hot Spanish night, and I do not think I can feel love—or any other decent emotion except guilt and regret.’

Robert stared at himself in the mirror as he dressed for dinner that evening. He had decided to take Miss Searles up on her invitation, for it seemed foolish to make the staff serve two separate meals when they might all dine together. And if he was a little curious to discover whether or not anything remained of the young woman he seemed to remember kissing in a moonlit garden, he would not admit it—to Nor or to himself.

No, it was simply a matter of practicality. Until his chef arrived, it would just make more work for her cook. Besides, he did not fancy dining alone with Henry in the great hall. They could, of course, eat in the library, but it would still make extra work.

Tying his cravat in a style that had taken him some years to perfect, he brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his coat and prepared to leave. His memory of that night in Bath was distinctly hazy. He thought he’d kissed her, but he could not recall what he’d said or what she’d replied. He had a feeling he’d gone a little too far and she’d broken away from him, but his memory would not function properly, and he did not know what had happened after the kiss.

Did Miss Searles remember him? Had she even known his name? He must surely have introduced himself. But she would have forgotten the small incident long ago, wouldn’t she? It could not have meant anything to her—the clumsy attentions of a drunken officer. If she did remember, she could feel nothing but animosity towards him.

Was that why she dragged her hair back and made herself look older? Was she afraid that he might try to take advantage of her again?

Robert felt the heat spread over his entire body. It was embarrassing. He had been a foolish youth, carried away on a tide of excitement and fear. Even while he’d longed for adventure, he’d known full well that he might be killed.

Yet he’d come through the wars almost unscathed, apart from a few small wounds that had healed easily. No, his scars were mental. He would never forget Juanita’s broken body, or the way she had wept in his arms before she died as the result of the cruelty of a pack of drunken dogs. They had thought her one of the enemy and had raped her brutally, inflicting wounds on her body and her mind—wounds that she could never have recovered from.

His own men. Men he’d nurtured, cherished and wept for had behaved like animals. He’d been forced to punish them—to hang the ringleader, a man he’d truly liked until that moment. It had been unlike Harris to behave so ill, for he had been generally a good man and caring of his soldiers, but in the heat of bloodlust, he’d gone berserk and committed the foulest of crimes. The look in his eyes as Robert had condemned him to hang had been like a dagger thrust in his heart.

It was not that he’d loved Juanita, but she’d helped him to nurse Henry through his sickness and had not deserved such a cruel death.

How could he ever forget the things he’d seen and done out there? It was impossible. He was dead inside.

If he married it must be for the getting of an heir—to a sensible older woman who understood what such a marriage would be about. Was Miss Searles such a woman? Robert wasn’t sure. The girl he’d kissed on a moonlit night was someone different—a dream of love that had vanished under the punishing heat of Spanish skies. Robert hardly knew her. Henry seemed to have broken all barriers and was already treated as one of their family, but he … he was the earl, and they were guests in his house.

He sighed as the elusive memory disappeared like mist. Perhaps if he found it hard to remember then she did, too. He hoped so, for otherwise … Good grief! Had he made her any promises that night? His thoughts whirled in confusion, then he dismissed them. She’d surely known he was drunk. She was far too sensible to have believed anything he’d said that night.

No, he doubted she even recalled the incident. She would have given some sign. Besides, she must have had other suitors. He could not imagine why she had not married. Even if she had little dowry, there must have been someone … Mr Breck had told him her cousin wished to marry her, but she’d taken this house on rather than accept. Clearly she was not desperate to marry or she would have accepted the offer.

Frowning, he left his bedchamber and walked slowly down the stairs, through the library. Even before he reached the dining room, he could hear laughter. Henry sounded so relaxed and happy. He hadn’t heard him talking so animatedly for years.

Smiling, he walked into the room—and then caught his breath as the woman in yellow silk, trimmed with an overskirt of black lace and similar frills to her neckline, turned to look at him and memory came rushing back into his mind. She had been wearing yellow that night, too, and her hair had been dressed in becoming ringlets. The colour suited her, and if she were to soften her hairstyle a little, she would still be beautiful.

Robert felt the ice round his heart crack a little. Surely he had called her an angel … and he’d done other things, too—things that made the heat rush through his body once more.

How could he have forgotten? For one glorious hour, he had fallen madly in love. He’d always intended to contact her, to tell her that he’d meant every word, but caught up in the excitement of his first campaign, he had forgotten—and then it had all turned sour …