A Christmas Kiss (12 page)

“Let me try to coax him to move. He'll have no reason to be frightened of me. And if you stand behind the casement, right alongside me, you can be ready to grasp him as soon as he gets close enough.”

Philip nodded his agreement and came across the room in three strides. Evalyn opened the casement and looked out again. A stone ledge ran the length of the outside wall, extending from the wall about a foot, except under the windows where the ledge curved outward to form small, circular balconies. The balconies were edged with low, wrought-iron grilles which permitted the inhabitants of the rooms, should they desire to do so, to step outside in safety. The footman, however, stood on the narrow part of the ledge, halfway between Evalyn's balcony and the one belonging to Sally's room. He stood immobile, his back against the wall, his shirtsleeves flapping in the wind, his hands clutching the coat of his livery, pressing it in a crushed bundle against his chest. His eyes, wide with terror, were fixed on the ground three stories below.

Philip put his hands on Evalyn's waist and lifted her over the sill, and she stepped out on the tiny balcony. Philip climbed up after her, but remained hidden by the casement.

“Good afternoon,” Evalyn said to the footman in so calm and ordinary a voice that Philip stared at her in amazement. “You are Joseph, are you not?”

Joseph's head remained fixed, but the pupils of his terrified eyes slid to the corners in his attempt to see who was speaking to him.

“You needn't turn to look at me,” Evalyn continued in her calm way. “I'm only Miss Pennington. You've gotten yourself into a fix, haven't you? Well, don't be concerned—we shall soon get you out of it.” Without a pause, she continued to speak in her everyday, softly modulated voice. “I think—don't you?—that it would be best not to turn your head or look round, but perhaps you had best not look at the ground either. Looking straight ahead should serve us best, I think. Yes, just like that. Very good. Now, then, it seems to me that all you need do is slide your right foot toward the right a very little way. There's no danger, you know; the ledge is very firm. I'm standing on it myself. Just a little way to the right. Yes, just so. Good. Now you need only to slide your left leg to meet it. There! Very good indeed. All we need are a few more movements just like that, and we shall have you safe. A bit to the right again. Good. Now the left …”

Thus, bit by bit, Evalyn coaxed him closer to the balcony. The moment he was close to the railing, Philip caught him under the arms and pulled him over the grille onto the balcony. Evalyn caught the footman's coat as it dropped from his hands, and she and Philip gently helped the shaking man over the sill and into the bedroom.

Nancy embraced Joseph in her enthusiastic relief. “Oh, thank goodness,” she exclaimed ecstatically. “Thank goodness!”

Joseph, beginning to get his color back, turned to thank his benefactress, and for the first time saw Philip. His face turned ashen, and he fell to the ground in a dead faint.

“Confound it!” Philip muttered in disgust. “My presence seems to do nothing but add complications.”

Evalyn's lips twitched. “Not at all, my lord. You were indispensible. How could we have hauled him over the railing of the balcony without you?”

Philip frowned at her. “Throw me no sops, my girl. I have the most lowering feeling that, had I not been here, you and your intrepid abigail would have managed very well, and I'd never have heard a word of this entire affair. But never mind that now. What shall we do to bring the fellow round?”

“Nancy, go to Annette and see if she can give you a bottle of vinaigrette.”

Nancy returned shortly, but it was Annette herself who carried the restorative. She bobbed a quick curtsey to Philip and Evalyn, and promptly knelt at Joseph's side, holding the vinaigrette under his nose, and murmuring endearments in her native tongue. Joseph shivered, groaned, and opened his eyes. He looked at Philip, winced, and struggled to get to his feet. But Annette held him back. “No, no,
mon cher
, you are not to get up yet,” she said tenderly.

Joseph pushed her arm aside and got to his feet awkwardly. “M-m-my lord,” he stammered.

Annette jumped up and took a heroic stance in front of him. “You'll not scold my Joseph, milord,” she said bravely. “It is all my fault. To me must come all the blame.”

“Annette, be still,” Joseph whispered fiercely. “His lordship's business is wi' me, not you! Be off to your lady, do y'hear me?”

“I'm glad to see you've got your courage back,” Philip remarked drily. “For a while I was very much afraid I had a jellyfish in my employ.”

“It was only the height, my lord,” Joseph said earnestly. “Ever since I been a tot I been terrified o' heights. Even if my mum stood me on a table I'd yell like a screech owl.”

“If you're so afraid of heights, how is it we found you outside a third-story window?”

Joseph stiffened. “Can't tell you that, my lord.”

“I can tell him! Me, Annette! I have to be ashamed of nothing,
moi!
”

“Be quiet, girl,” Joseph hissed at her. “Do y'want to get us both sacked? Get back to y'r lady before she misses you.”

“If you don't mind, Joseph,” Philip said with some asperity, “I'll decide who goes or stays. Now, I don't care to pry into your private doings, but I can't allow my guests to be troubled with incidents like this. Unless I learn, and quickly, why you were outside Miss Pennington's window, I'll sack the lot of you.”

“No, no m'sieur! I deserve it only! You are a good, kind man—so everyone says downstairs. I will explain it to you.…”

Joseph began to interrupt. Philip stayed him with a glare. Annette said to Joseph softly, “Do not be angry with me,
mon cher
. Someone must explain. It is
amour
, milord. Joseph and I … we are for many months … how you say?… betrothed. But we cannot marry. Joseph supports his
maman
and has not yet enough savings for me to leave the employ of Miss Trevelyan. And Miss Trevelyan does not like for her dresser to be married. So we must wait, and wait …
comprenez?”

Philip said impatiently, “Yes, of course, but what has this to do with being outside the window?”

Annette hung her head. “The rest, it is more …
difficile
… difficult to say.…”

Joseph stepped forward. “I'll tell him. Y'see, sir, gossip spreads real quick in the servants' hall, and if Miss Trevelyan ever should get word that Annette and me is planning to be wed, well, you can be sure that'd be the end of Annette's position. So we ain't ever told nobody about it. Well, you can see that it would gall a man … never being able to walk out with his girl or nothing … so, when Annette tells me that Miss Trevelyan is out riding for the afternoon—and I not needed this afternoon neither—well, then, I fair jumped at the chance to see Annette alone. I slipped up to Miss Trevelyan's room and Annette let me in—”

“Yes, yes, enough!” Philip cut in, with an embarrassed glance at Evalyn. “There's no need to explain further. I take it that Miss Trevelyan returned from her outing a bit earlier than expected, is that it?”

“Yes, sir, that she did. And there was no place for me to go but out the window. I knew I'd never make it to the next room, but there was just nowheres else to go!”

“But there's something I don't understand,” Evalyn said. “What had my Nancy to do with all this?”

“I was passin' by, on me way to check yer clothes for this evening,” Nancy said, “when Annette comes out o' Miss Trevelyan's room looking so white and desp'rate-like, it fair pulled me heart out o' me. She was 'alf crazy with fright. She told me what happened, so I ran to find ye.”

“I see. But Nancy, I thought you and Annette were at swords' points.”

Nancy shrugged. “That's true enough. But if she was that desp'rate, I 'ad to help her, didn't I?”

“Yes, of course. You did the right thing,” Evalyn assured her.

Annette embraced Nancy warmly. “And I never forget, Nancy. Annette never forgets a kindness. For you, and you, Miss Evalyn, I will prove someday my gratitude,” she said with feeling.

All eyes turned to Philip, who was staring at them nonplussed. “I suppose you're all hoping that I will excuse you and forget the whole sorry incident,” he said glowering at them. “Very well, I will.” He turned to the footman and thrust his coat into his arms. “Here, go along. But see that there are no more clandestine meetings, and that you never again go climbing walls.”

A chorus of thank-yous greeted this announcement, but Philip only glared. Nancy and Annette curtseyed hurriedly and ran out. But Joseph would not be put off. “I don't know how to thank you proper, my lord,” he said with real gratitude.

“Joseph,” said Philip softly, “I will speak to Hutton about raising your wages.” Joseph stared at Philip open-mouthed. “Well, we must see what we can do to get you married without too much delay,” he added gruffly. “Now, go along, man, go along.” Joseph made an attempt at a bow and almost ran to the door, shrugging himself into his coat at the same time. “And walk with some dignity,” Philip said in disgust, “some dignity, if you please. We don't want to set the whole house talking!”

At the door, Joseph made another attempt to express his thanks, but Philip waved him out. When he had left, Evalyn smiled at Philip warmly. “That was very kind in you, my lord,” she said.

“My lord again? I thought we had agreed on Philip. May I say,
Miss Pennington
, that Jamie was right when he said that you were a most redoubtable girl?”

“Did he say that of me? I must thank him, if it is indeed a compliment.”

“Can it be otherwise? Of course it is a compliment. Your calm and composure out there on the balcony were quite remarkable in a woman. Most ladies would have fainted or had hysterics.”

“You're not being very kind to my sex. As for me, I couldn't have behaved otherwise. My father was a soldier and would not have permitted fainting or hysterics in anyone living in his house.”

Philip, standing close to her, lifted her chin and looked down at her with sympathy. “Poor Evalyn,” he said softly, “were you not permitted even tears?”

“Oh, no! Tears would have been considered the worst weakness.”

“It must have been a difficult childhood. I most sincerely feel for you.”

A twinkle appeared in Evalyn's eyes. “Don't feel regret for my
childhood
, my lord,” she said, “but rather feel it for me
now
.”

“Now?” Philip asked.

“Yes. You see, I am being compromised.”

Philip recognized the twinkle. “Compromised, my girl? By me?”

“Yes, I'm afraid so,” she said in her almost perfectly serious way. He dropped his hand from her chin.

“And how am I compromising you?” he asked in a tone of almost perfect severity.

“You see, I am alone with you in my bedroom.”

“Yes, but I explained earlier how that fact need not be compromising.”

“Yes, I remember,” Evalyn assured him, “but I'm afraid your Joseph has closed the door.”

Philip gave a shout of laughter. “Vixen!” he said. “You have garrotted me again! Very well, Miss, I'll go. And I shall take Aunt Caroline with me.” He lifted the portrait from the wall and strode to the door. There he paused and looked back at her. “But I shall retaliate, never fear. I shall replace this portrait with the one of my great-aunt Lucy Gyllford Axminster. She is the lady who murdered her husband in cold blood, convinced the magistrates that the deed was done by a highwayman, and attended the funeral as calmly as you please, without troubling herself to shed a single tear. I think you and she should deal extremely well together!”

Ten

Reggie's nose was red and his fingers frozen. The sun had already sunk below the horizon and would very soon take with it the last of the light. To make matters worse, a sharp wind was whipping up. No matter how often he looked down the lane he could see no sign of Jamie or the carriage he was supposed to hire. He glanced at Marianne trudging along doggedly beside him as they tried to keep warm by pacing back and forth along the road. She appeared to be extremely cold and uncomfortable, but he had to admit that the girl had made no complaint in the almost two hours since Jamie had left them. It had been a dreadful time. Reggie had wracked his brain for topics to discuss so that the time would pass comfortably. He had tried to discuss horses, but Marianne admitted to being afraid of them. He had brought up the subject of travel, but Marianne had never been anywhere. He broached the subject of the London season, but Marianne was not yet out and had no knowledge of it. Her monosyllabic answers to his questions were dampening in the extreme, and his head ached from casting about for a subject on which he could draw her out. For a while, he was quite ready to strangle her with the ribbons of her ridiculous bonnet. But now, looking down at her rosy-tipped nose and blue-tinged lips, he found himself touched with sympathy for her plight which, he belatedly realized, might be even worse than his own.

“Pleathe let me give you my coat,” he pleaded for the twentieth time. “You mutht be freezing.”

“No, I assure you,” she said with a pathetic little smile. “I'm doing quite well, really. It's only—”

“Only what?” asked Reggie in consternation.

“My fingers. They're stinging me so. If only I had thought to bring my muff. It's lined with fur and would have been such a comfort.”

“I have an idea,” ventured Reggie bravely, feeling suddenly imbued with a sense of gallantry toward the poor creature. “Why don't we thit down on that tree thtump, and I'll rub your handth. That'll warm them up a bit.”

“T-thank you,” she said in a quavery voice, and sat down on the stump. Reggie sat down beside her, took her hands, and rubbed them vigorously. When he looked up to see if she were feeling any better, he found that she had turned her face away from him, and that her shoulders were heaving gently.