Candlelit Christmas Kisses

CHAPTER THREE

‘YOU are jesting?’ Henry Norton stared at his friend in genuine surprise. ‘She turned you down? Have her wits gone begging or did you offend her?’

Robert smiled wryly. ‘You know me too well, Nor. I was too direct, of course. Told her it would not be a love match while assuring her that I was fond of her and found her desirable as a companion and a mother for my children.’

‘I am not surprised she turned you down. Indeed, I wonder that you escaped unscathed to tell the tale. Knowing her temper, I would have expected you to bear some injury. What possessed you to say such a thing to the lady? You might have known she would be angry. The fair Adelaide has a score of gentlemen languishing at her feet.’

‘Well, they may take their chances with her and good luck. She is beautiful but a spoiled brat,’ Robert said, and touched his cheek with feeling. ‘Not quite unscathed, Nor. The lady packs quite a punch, believe me.’

‘No less than you deserved.’ Henry was unsympathetic. ‘If you wanted her to accept, you should have … But of course you didn’t.’ He nodded knowingly as he saw Robert’s expression. ‘You felt it your duty to offer for her, after flirting with her so outrageously for months, but you never truly wished to marry her, did you?’

‘I confess it was done out of duty, for I had unwittingly led the lady to believe an offer was forthcoming.’ Robert sighed heavily. ‘I have behaved very badly. I know she is all that most men require in a wife, but she is not for me.’

‘Good grief, what are you looking for—a saint?’

‘No …’ Robert laughed in an oddly defensive way. ‘Would it be too much to ask that the lady should love me—or at least hold me in warm affection? I know I’m not the easiest of men. My nightmares would scare a young woman. I thought since Adelaide had been married once before she might be looking for a marriage of convenience, but it seems she demands utter devotion, and that I cannot promise. I’m not sure I shall ever be able to give my whole self to a woman. I’ve seen too much, Nor—cried too many tears. My heart broke on the Spanish Peninsula campaign, and I’m not sure I can feel love again.’

Henry nodded. He felt much as Robert did. The death of so many friends had left deep wounds that might never heal. But Robert had suffered more. Henry had watched him as he held Juanita in his arms, nursing her through a night during which she had been racked with terrible pain—pain inflicted by a renegade band of English soldiers. To see a young and beautiful woman destroyed so utterly as Juanita had been was something any man might find hard to forget. Raped, beaten and left for dead, she’d lived long enough to tell her tale, name her torturers, and die in her lover’s arms.

Sometimes Henry wished she’d died sooner, before he and Robert had found her. Perhaps then his friend would have recovered. But the experience had scarred him deeply, leaving him with terrible nightmares that haunted him still, even after two years spent recuperating in the peace and warmth of the hills of Tuscany.

‘Well, since there is no longer a reason for you to stay here, perhaps we should return to England.’

‘Yes, I believe we should,’ Robert agreed. ‘You wrote to Mr Breck and told him I would return before Christmas?’

‘I told him it was your intention. But you do not intend to visit the Banford Hall estate at once, I think?’

‘It will keep for a while. We shall go to London. Breck may arrange for the townhouse to be opened up, and we’ll go there for a week or two. My own estate was small and disposed of when I decided to stay here, but the money was invested. I shall want to investigate the state of my finances, which I believe to be more than adequate. As I told you, Nor—I do not think I can bear to live in that mausoleum of a house. It will have to come down if I’m to live there, but it may be better just to sell.’

‘I’ll write to Breck again before we leave, warning him of your intentions. When shall we go—next month?’

‘Why not sooner?’ Robert smiled. ‘We’ll pay a brief visit to Paris, and get home in time to prepare for Christmas.’

Selina looked around her with satisfaction. She and her sisters, and Jane and Betty, had spent the past three weeks cleaning and sorting out the neglect of years. The parlours, drawing room, dining room and breakfast parlour were all now in good order. Furniture had been polished, carpets beaten and silver burnished. The main staircase—a magnificent relic from medieval times, intricately carved—when they arrived had been ingrained with dust. Now the dark oak gleamed with polish, its faded beauty restored.

‘It looks much better now, Miss Selina,’ Betty said with a nod of satisfaction. ‘I’ve never sneezed so much in my life without having a chill—everywhere was so dusty. I think the drawing room had not been used in years.’

‘Well, we have made big changes.’ Selina was pleased because she had discovered some beautiful pieces of walnut furniture that had been languishing under dustcovers in the unused wings. By bringing in useful items like desks and small tables, pretty chairs with spindly legs and a comfortable sofa, she had transformed the rooms they were to use. The heavier, ugly pieces had been transferred to one of the unused rooms. ‘Everything in here was so heavy and dull—and all those lovely things going to waste …’

‘I hope the new earl won’t mind.’ Betty looked doubtful. ‘Some folk hate things to be changed, you know, miss.’

‘Well, he isn’t here, is he?’ Selina replied. ‘If he cared about his uncle’s home, he would have come back at once to see what needed to be done to set it to rights. Besides, all I’ve done is make the rooms we use comfortable and pretty.’

‘You’ve certainly made them your own,’ Betty said. ‘I’d best away to the kitchen, miss. Cook is making puddings and cakes for Christmas, and she needs a hand.’

‘I thought Sadie was helping her?’

‘Her?’ Betty sniffed. ‘Comes and goes as she thinks fit. That one is more trouble than she’s worth, mark my words. You’ll rue the day you allowed her to stay.’

‘What has she done?’

‘I’m not one to tell tales, miss, you know me—but she’s been hanging around with James the gardener. A girl like that … Well, stands to reason he’s only after one—’ Betty broke off and blushed. ‘I shouldn’t have said that, Miss Selina.’

‘No, you shouldn’t,’ Selina said. ‘Unless she causes trouble, I shan’t send her away, Betty. Nanny cares for her, and she keeps her in line. I’ll give Nanny a hint about James and she can warn Sadie to be careful.’

Selina had caught only glimpses of Sadie, for the girl seemed to avoid the family. Once or twice she’d caught her peering in at the window when she’d been talking to Cook in the kitchens, and she’d seen her running across the lawns at the back of the house on two occasions, but otherwise Selina would hardly have known she was there had Nanny not told her.

Selina frowned as she thought of the beautiful wild girl who was not quite a part of their household. She was a law unto herself, dreamy, and apt to walk off in the middle of a task, so Cook said, and then come back a day later expecting to start again where she’d left it. Selina wasn’t sure whether she was a little simple or just wild and contrary, but she had caused no trouble thus far.

Indeed, everything had been going very well. They had begun to receive one or two callers—just the vicar and some of their nearest neighbours—and she was thinking of having an afternoon when she would invite ladies to call for refreshments. They had met others when they attended church on Sundays, and everyone seemed friendly and a little curious about the family at Banford Hall. So far two gentlemen had ridden over to ask if they could be of any help. Both were gentlemen farmers, men of independent means, but they had country manners and lacked the town polish that she and her sisters had been used to in their friends. Neither was quite what Selina hoped for as a suitor for her sister.

‘Miss Searles …’

‘Yes, Trent …’ Selina was brought back from her reverie by the elderly butler’s arrival. ‘Is there something I can do for you?’

‘A letter has arrived marked as urgent. I thought I should bring it to you at once.’

‘An urgent letter?’ Selina looked at him in surprise and some consternation. She took the small envelope from the salver and glanced at the writing. ‘It is from Mr Breck …’ Opening it swiftly, she gave a little gasp of shock and turned pale. ‘Yes, it is important, Trent. Thank you for drawing it to my attention. Do you know where Miss Amy is, by any chance?’

‘She is in the small parlour, miss. Shall I tell her you wish to see her?’

‘No, I shall go to her,’ Selina said. ‘Please excuse me.’

Leaving the butler staring after her in a puzzled manner, Selina walked swiftly to the parlour they had made their own. She was fortunate to find Amy at her sewing. Their younger sister was, of course, in the library, which was her favourite place at any time of day.

‘I am not sure what to make of this,’ she said, and handed Amy the letter. ‘Mr Breck says we are to remain here for the moment, but I am not sure how we can.’

Amy read the letter and looked at her in consternation. ‘He says the earl is expected in England any day now. Oh, Selina, after all our hard work—and just when we were beginning to make friends.’

‘Apparently the earl does not intend to live here for the moment. It seems he will make his home in London—and he is thinking of pulling down the house and building a new place.’

‘Oh, how could he?’ Amy stared at her in genuine distress. ‘This house is so beautiful and has so much history.’

‘It is also draughty, and if all the rooms were opened up would require a small army of servants. We have worked hard ourselves, Amy. Betty could never have managed it alone.’ Selina looked ruefully at her hands. ‘I shall have to wear lace gloves when we have visitors, for my hands are a disgrace.’

‘And now he will come and take it all away from us and destroy everything we’ve done.’ Amy’s eyes glittered angrily. ‘It is so unfair, Selina.’

‘Life is often unfair,’ Selina said, and sighed. ‘Do you remember when Mama took me to Bath seven years ago? I was just sixteen then, and she needed to take the waters for her health.’

‘Yes. I remember you seemed very quiet when you returned.’ Amy frowned. ‘I don’t see what … Sorry, please continue, Selina.’

‘There was a man—a captain in the army. He was so handsome, and he was about to depart for Spain. He and his friends were at an assembly that Mama and I attended. My card was filled before he arrived, but he … he cut in and started to flirt with me. I felt as if I were in a dream, Amy. He said such things to me—told me I was an angel straight from heaven … so beautiful that I made his heart weep. He took me out into the garden and kissed me, told me that he adored me and that one day he would come back for me. I’m not certain what he meant, but I think he was a little squiffy, because the next day he passed Mama and I as we walked to the pump room and did not even glance my way. I suppose that he was merely flirting with me …’

‘How perfectly horrid of him,’ Amy said, outraged for her sister. ‘What happened after that? Did you tell him he was not a gentleman?’

‘I did not have a chance. I learned from a lady whose house we visited that Robert Moorcroft and his friends had departed for Spain, where they were to join Wellington—or Wellesley, as he was then known—on campaign.’

‘So he was merely flirting with you and drunk on the eve of leaving for war?’ Amy frowned. ‘I should have been angry with him for taking advantage.’

‘No, I wasn’t angry.’ Selina smiled. ‘I was young and foolish. I should not have gone into the garden with him that night. Mama had warned me about allowing gentlemen to take advantage … But I liked him so much, and it all seemed so romantic. I was carried away on a tide of pleasure and I forgot Mama’s warnings. Of course I know now he was just flirting with me—but somehow I have never been able to forget him.’

‘Is that why you do not wish to marry for money?’

‘I suppose it may be,’ Selina replied. ‘I shall not say he broke my heart, for he did not—but he spoiled me for others. I have not been able to see any other man in the same light.’

‘Yes, I understand that,’ Amy said. ‘Is he the reason why you took this position?’

‘In a way. Since I have no real desire to marry, I thought this would be a way out of our difficulties. But if the earl returns and no longer requires my services …’

Amy frowned. ‘What are we to do? You were thinking of inviting our neighbours to a Christmas Eve party. Shall we still be here, or must we look for another home?’

‘Mr Breck insists that we must stay as we are for the moment. He will speak to the earl when he sees him and ask if we may stay on until he is ready to demolish the house.’

‘Who is going to demolish the house?’ Millie asked, coming in at that moment. She had a book in hand, and had obviously been immersed in it until that moment. ‘What are you whispering about? Why does no one ever tell me anything?’

‘The earl is returning to England. He intends to live in London for the moment, but apparently he wishes to pull this house down and build a new one in its place.’

‘He can’t,’ Millie wailed. ‘Oh, I hate him. I’ve just got to like being here. Men are horrid. I wish they would all go to war and get killed so we could live as we please.’

‘Millie! That isn’t nice,’ Selina admonished. ‘The earl is not concerned with us for the time being, so we may carry on as we wish. Mr Breck is coming down next week to have a look at what we’ve done and make a check on a few things I pointed out to him. He may know more of the earl’s intentions then. If he gives us a few months, we shall be able to find a nice cottage somewhere.’

‘It won’t be like living here, in this wonderful old house,’ Millie said and her eyes filled with tears. ‘We shan’t have many books, and there are so many I want to read.’

‘Well, perhaps the earl won’t want to be bothered with this place for a while,’ Selina said hopefully. ‘I should not have come here had I thought this would happen—but it seemed ideal for us. Had we been granted a few months of peace, Amy might have found a husband, and I … well, I might have found something, too.’

‘Don’t worry, dearest,’ Amy said, a gleam in her eyes. ‘I’ll find a husband by Christmas—you see if I don’t. All we have to do is give a few dinner parties and invite all the eligible men and their mothers and sisters.’ She smiled confidently. ‘I might not catch an earl or a lord, but I don’t mind a sir—or even a plain mister if he is rich enough.’

‘No, you must not rush into marriage for our sakes,’ Selina said hastily. ‘Please promise me you will not, dearest. I want you to be happy. Millie and I will manage in a cottage for the time being if we have to—but you must marry well. You were born to shine in society, my love, and I refuse to let you sacrifice yourself for us.’

‘It would not be a sacrifice if he could give me the things I want—and provide a decent home for you.’

‘But you like to mix in good society, and you long for a season. No, Amy, whatever happens I will not have you sacrificing yourself for us. Remember you are not yet twenty and I am your guardian. I shall not allow it.’

‘You would not refuse me if I really wished to marry?’

‘Not if you were in love and the gentleman was suitable,’ Selina said firmly. ‘Do not give up yet, my dears. We owe this placing to Mr Breck, and should we need to move on, I think we can rely on him to help us. We shall simply carry on as before.’

‘My instructions were that you should employ a housekeeper, sir,’ Robert said, glaring down at the lawyer from his superior height. ‘My uncle did not wish for a tenant and neither do I.’

‘You said you would not be returning for some years, my lord. I thought there could be no harm in it since the young ladies were in such desperate straits. They had to leave their home before the builders moved in—and they have taken good care of your property, I assure you. Miss Searles is an excellent manager, and had been helping to care for her father’s estate for the past three years.’

‘I take it she is a spinster of advancing years?’

‘I would not say that, sir—though she is not a very young lady. In her early twenties, I believe. Miss Amy is nearly twenty, and the youngest girl will be thirteen shortly.’ Mr Breck threw him an anxious look. ‘It was my intention to visit them tomorrow and discuss the matter. I have heard of a house that might be suitable, but it will not be vacant until the second week in January. If you could see your way clear to allowing them to stay until then …’

Robert’s expression hardened. ‘You say she is acting as an unpaid housekeeper?’

‘It was an arrangement that I thought suitable, my lord, though I offered remuneration. Miss Searles felt unable to accept a monetary reward. She needed a home quickly and the house was empty. She and her sisters and her servants have moved in—and I’ve had good reports of her. She has already found some things that she thought needed to be brought to my attention regarding the tenants of one of your two farms.’

‘Indeed? What may that be? I should hardly have thought a young, single woman capable of finding something my uncle or his bailiff had missed.’

‘It was to do with a tithe that was payable to the church but had been mistakenly paid to the estate, but it does not, however, show up in the accounts. Also, there was a matter of a lease on some land that had lapsed, and the tenants had been allowed to stay on—if no rent is paid, they could claim the land in another few years. I have already set the matter of a new lease in hand, so you may thank her for it.’

‘Remarkable. One wonders how my uncle’s man of business could have overlooked something of that sort—unless he had good reason?’ Robert said thoughtfully.

‘Precisely. Miss Searles thinks there might be some kind of relationship between the agent and the tenant. Your uncle’s agent left rather abruptly when the earl told him you would be taking over the charge of the estate. I think what Miss Searles uncovered may be the tip of the iceberg, my lord. I daresay your uncle had been cheated for some years.’

‘In that case I cannot put off my visit for as long as I planned. I must go down and poke about—discover just what has been going on.’

‘Will you wish Miss Searles and her family to leave?’

‘No, of course not. I am not a barbarian and nor do I have a heart of stone. I think there are enough rooms for us to share a house for a while. Pay your visit as you planned, Mr Breck—and tell Miss Searles I shall come down in eight days from tomorrow. She may hire some more servants from the village and open up the west wing. I shall move in there with Henry Norton and Jobis. Jobis was my batman in the army, and he looks after me as well as most valets—though I admit he does not understand how to black my boots. I have hired a man to help for my stay in town, but I shall not be taking him with me to the country. Henry, Jobis and my grooms are all I need for the moment.’

‘As you wish, my lord.’

Robert stared out of the office window at the busy London streets. Rather to his surprise, he had found them dirty and less than welcoming after the warmth and beauty of Italy.

‘Before I can think of pulling the house down, I must have plans drawn. If you could furnish me with the name of a good architect, I shall ask him to come down—perhaps stay over Christmas and give me an idea of the cost of a complete rebuild.’

‘Very well, my lord. It is generous of you to agree to my clients staying on in the house for the moment. I shall tell the ladies they can stay until the new house is vacant—which means they can have Christmas where they are. I believe it was Miss Searles’s intention to give a little party for your neighbours.’

‘As I am in official mourning for my uncle, it must not be a large gathering, but I see no reason why she should not have a small one if she wishes—though you did say she is also in mourning?’

‘Yes, my lord. However, she wanted to get to know her neighbours.’

‘Who will not be hers for much longer …’

‘She will not be moving too far. The house I have found is a large farmhouse no more than ten miles from your estate. The owner is settled abroad and the tenancy is for five years—should she wish to take it.’

‘Then she must do as she thinks fit,’ Robert said, and frowned again. ‘The name seems to ring a bell, but I do not recall having met the family.’

‘Her father was Lord Richard Searles, and her mother was a Seymour of the Devon branch—but they were country gentry. I believe they rarely visited London. Lady Searles was often an invalid. Some years ago she paid a few visits to Bath to take the waters, but then her health deteriorated and she stayed at home. Her husband visited London alone sometimes—and that was when he was … unfortunate enough to lose most of his money at the tables.’

‘You say the house was entailed?’

‘It was free of a mortgage, but some of the land was pledged to the bank. Their cousin inherited it, as he is the last of the male line, and he intends to let or sell what is left of the estate.’

‘And he could not be persuaded to allow the ladies to live there?’

‘He claimed they would be better with him—but Miss Searles declined. She feared his intentions towards herself and did not wish to marry him.’

‘She would rather become an unpaid housekeeper than marry respectably?’ Robert’s frown cleared. ‘She sounds an interesting and determined young woman, Mr Breck. Pray tell her she may stay on in the house until next year. I shall not bother her—but she may leave the management of the estate to me. She will continue in the role of unofficial housekeeper. I have no interest in such things.’

‘I am certain she will be grateful, sir,’ Mr Breck said. ‘I cannot tell you how you have relieved my mind.’

‘You exceeded your brief,’ Robert said. ‘It might have been awkward had I returned with a bride.’