Regency Mistletoe & Marriages: A Countess by Christmas / The Earl's Mistletoe Bride

‘And he has a somewhat reddish tinge to his coat,’ he agreed mechanically. Then, as though searching for something to say to prolong their odd little conversation, ‘Under the mud which unfortunately he chose to roll in this morning.’ He looked down at her attire ruefully. ‘And which is now liberally smeared all over your coat.’

For the first time Helen took stock of the damage the encounter with his dog had wrought upon her clothing. Helen had wrapped a shawl over her bonnet before setting out. It had slithered to the ground when Esau had jumped up, and the other ladies had trodden it into the ground. Her gloves and cuffs were shiny with the aftermath of Esau’s affectionate greeting, and her shoulders bore the imprints of his enormous muddy paws. And, worst of all, when he had dropped to the ground his claws had torn a rent in her skirt.

‘You must allow me to replace it.’

‘Must?’ Taking exception to his high-handed attitude towards her, she took a step back. ‘I must do no such thing!’

‘Do not be ridiculous,’ he snapped, his own brief foray into good humour coming to an abrupt end. ‘I saw the way my sister used you as a human shield to protect her own clothing from Esau’s unfortunate tendency to jump up on people he likes. And she can easily afford to replace any gowns his paws might ruin. I suspect that you cannot. I have just heard you declare you have not a penny to your name! And I doubt if you have more than two changes of clothing in that meagre amount of luggage my staff carried up to your room.’

Helen stiffened further. ‘Mud brushes off when it dries. And I am quite capable of darning this little tear,’ she said, indicating her skirts. ‘Any competent needlewoman could do it! And, contrary to your opinion, I do have a clean gown into which I may change. I am not a complete pauper.’

‘Nevertheless, you are not the heiress that General Forrest has assumed, are you? What has happened between you and your aunt? Why do you have to go out and work for your living? Will you not tell me?’

‘It is not your affair—at least not my part of it.’

She was not going to confide in him. It shook him. Most people were only too ready to pour out a litany of woes in the hope that they might persuade him to bail them out.

He had already told Lady Thrapston that he admired her, but if he were to say it again now it would be with far more conviction. For he realised that he really did.

‘That damned pride of yours,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Nevertheless, Miss Forrest, you have to admit that it is entirely my fault that your clothing has been ruined. As Lady Thrapston pointed out, I should not have returned to the house by this route when I knew that visiting ladies like to take their exercise in the shelter of the shrubbery. Please,’ he said, stepping forward and grasping her by the elbows, ‘allow me to make amends.’

For once he would like to be able to do a small thing for someone he suspected had suffered some kind of financial reversal. And what was the cost of a coat to him?

Esau, as though sensing the tension between them, bounded over and sat at Helen’s feet, gazing up at her with his head on one side.

‘It would be quite inappropriate for you to do so,’ she pointed out.

It felt as though the sun went behind a cloud when he let go of her arms and stepped back.

‘But thank you for your kind offer,’ she said, in a desperate attempt to undo the offence she could see he had taken at her refusal.

It was no use. His face had closed up.

Which was ironic, considering the last time they had spoken he had complained that people only came to him because they wanted something!

‘No very great harm has been done by your dog. In fact,’ she said, reaching out one hand and tentatively patting the great shaggy head, ‘I am rather grateful to him for putting such an abrupt end to my walk.’

‘You do not like the gardens?’

‘The gardens seem very pleasant, My Lord, from what little I have seen so far.’

‘Perhaps you would enjoy seeing more of them,’ he said, as though he had just been struck by a brilliant idea, ‘if you had a more congenial escort? I confess, though I generally only permit Esau to accompany me on my morning ride, I—’

He pulled himself up short, frowned, and made her a stiff bow. ‘Miss Forrest, since you will not permit me to replace the clothing Esau has ruined, perhaps you will allow me to make amends in another way. Let me show you these gardens tomorrow, early. Before anyone else has risen. Before the sun has burned the frost away.’

‘Oh.’ Helen blinked up at him. ‘I thought you said you preferred to be alone…’

‘To ride alone,’ he corrected her, with some signs of irritation. ‘But I have not asked you to ride with me. Just to walk. Will you?’ He clutched his riding crop between his hands, his whole body tensing as he added, ‘Please?’

For one wild, glorious moment Helen had the feeling that her assent would really mean something to him. She wondered, given all that she had learned about him, how long it had been since he had asked anyone for anything.

Her heart went out to him. How sad to think that he might be so lonely that he was more or less begging her for an hour or so of her time. She suddenly saw that it was a rare thing for him to come across a person with whom he might spend time safe in the knowledge she would not be pestering him for some kind of favour. Lord, he must be one of the loneliest men on earth.

Especially if he had to resort to asking her to go for a walk with him. She was a virtual stranger to him. And whenever they had met they had ended up arguing.

She chewed on her lower lip. Going for a walk with him, unchaperoned, would be a rather shocking thing for her to do. Especially considering the vast difference between their stations. And yet…and yet…

She was quite certain she would never meet a man like him again.

In the dreary years of servitude that lay ahead of her, would it not be a comfort to look back to this time and recall that once, at least, a handsome, eligible man—a man who made her heart flutter—had urged her to cast convention aside and spend time alone with him? Oh, not that anything would come of it. He could not possibly have any romantic feelings towards her. It was just a walk.

Sometimes, she decided, the conventions were ridiculous. As if he would stoop to attempting to seduce her, of all people. A guest under his roof!

She brightened up, knowing that she would be quite safe.

‘If the weather is fine, I think I should like that very much,’ she said.

While Bridgemere had been awaiting her answer he had felt as though he was teetering on the brink of a precipice. And now he wondered if he had tumbled headlong into it. For the sense of relief and gratitude he felt when she said yes was out of all proportion.

He was more than a little irritated with himself for letting her affect him so much.

‘I will wait for you in the mud room at first light, then,’ he said brusquely. ‘Cadwallader will give you the direction.’ He glanced down at her feet. ‘Wear sturdy footwear.’

And then he whistled for his dog and strode away, leaving Helen to trail back to the house in a state that was becoming all too familiar after an encounter with Lord Bridgemere. A turbulent mix of exhilaration, irritation, yearning and trepidation—and now, as if that were not quite enough to contend with, more than a dash of compassion for the man who was expected to bear everyone else’s burdens but had nobody to help him bear his.

Chapter Six

The next morning Helen woke early. She had escaped up to bed as soon as she could, uncomfortable about lingering in the winter drawing room amongst so many antagonists, leaving Aunt Bella to enjoy some hands of cards with Lady Norton. Helen was not sure what the time had been when her aunt had tiptoed back into their room. She looked down at her now, where she lay sprawled on her back, snoring gently, with a fond smile. It must have been well past midnight. Not even the sounds of Helen rising and having her wash had managed to rouse her this morning!

She rubbed a small patch of frost from the inside of the windowpane with the corner of her towel to see a still star-spangled sky. Not a cloud was in sight. It would be bitterly cold outside. Not that even a blizzard would have doused the excitement that was welling up inside her. Lord Bridgemere had asked her to go for a walk with him. Her! When he so famously shunned others. She simply added several flannel petticoats beneath her gown, as well as a knitted jacket under her coat, and a woollen shawl over her bonnet.

And left the room with a smile on her face and a spring in her step.

Lord Bridgemere was waiting for her in the mud room, similarly bundled up against the cold.

‘I would prefer not to take a lantern,’ he informed her. ‘The sun is only just rising, but I believe we can make our way where we are going quite safely without one.’

‘Oh. Very well.’ She smiled at him, quite content to go along with whatever he suggested.

He opened the door for her, and with a slight dip of the head extended his arm to indicate she should precede him.

She wanted to laugh out loud. She had expected nothing but slights and insults in her new life as a humble, hardworking governess, but here was a belted earl opening a door for her! Sharing his morning walk with her simply for the pleasure of her company. Well, wouldn’t this be something to look back upon when she eventually moved to the Harcourts’ home?

She smiled happily up at him as she passed him in the doorway. And breathed in the sharply fresh air with a sense of relish. She had always loved this time of day. It was like having a blank sheet of paper upon which she could write anything.

She darted a surreptitious glance at him as he closed the door behind them. Then averted her gaze demurely when he took her arm to steady her as they set off across the slippery cobbles of the kitchen court. He did not look at her. He kept his eyes fixed ahead, on where they were going. Once they left the cluster of buildings at the back of the main house he led her away from the formal gardens, where she had walked before, and up a sloping lawn towards a belt of trees.

After a while she took the risk of studying his face through a series of glances as they walked along. Most particularly her eyes were drawn to the mouth that had been haunting her imagination from the very first moment she had seen him. When she had thought he was a footman. Now she knew he was an earl, he was no longer beneath her socially, and so…