Candlelit Christmas Kisses: Captain Moorcroft's Christmas Bride / Governess Under the Mistletoe

‘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 …’