Christmas at Ravencrest: A Dark Hero Christmas Short (Reluctant Heroes) (7 page)

“You are a scoundrel, sir.”
Elizabeth chided but with her lips turning up so in a broad grin she knew her words lacked force.

Don
ovan was smiling as he stood waist deep in the water cradling her in his arms. “I promised to teach you to swim a few months ago.” He reminded her. “And I keep my promises, my lady. Once your arm has healed we will begin your lessons. I just wanted you to feel the warmth of the ocean, love. It’s very soothing. It will be like having our own private Bath resort with no crowds like the one in England. We can swim in the sea whenever we wish, in private, in the moonlight.” The deepening of his voice at the last word implied much, as did his eyes.

El
izabeth sighed. She was being overcome by his romantic inclinations. He was a charming rogue if ever there was one. “I’ll expect you to keep that promise, my lord.”

His lips made good on the promise, as he engaged her in a slow, tender kiss that did much to make up for his earlier boyish pranks.

As they headed back to the plantation house a short time later, Elizabeth’s mind turned over the tasks still awaiting her.  As she made list of the trappings of a traditional Christmas in England, she realized her efforts to recreate it here would not suffice. Her grandfather and her brother would see only the deficiencies in her efforts. Michael was already complaining about the Christmas pudding and it was not yet served to receive criticism.

Oh
sure, she could substitute palm branches, vines and exotic tropical flowers for the traditional Christmas greenery. She asked the cook to make mango tarts instead of apple or cherry ones. She could offer crab and lobster cakes to her guests this evening instead of mince pies. She seemed to be aiming for the moon with a sling shot. Perhaps she had overextended herself and set everyone up for disappointment in this mad scheme.

It didn’t even feel like Christmas. The weather was balmy, perpetual summer.
She missed the snow creating a magical landscape. She missed the enticing aroma of a plump Goose baking in the kitchen. This year, she would not have pine boughs, mistletoe or cedar greens festooning her new home. Perhaps she had worked and planned this past week for naught. All the important things she remembered about Christmastide as a child were missing.

By the time they returned to the manor house,
Elizabeth’s insides were roiling with uneasiness. Tonight, she was to play hostess at a party for the first time in her married life. Tonight and tomorrow, she was responsible for providing a pleasant and memorable Christmas holiday for her household as the new mistress of Ravencrest Estates.

For the first t
ime, Elizabeth began to fear her plan would fail.

Chapter Five

The clock struck the hour of eight o’clock in the evening.

The family was gathered together in the salon. The feast was laid out on a large dining table. The greenery was hung about the walls and on every shelf, including the mantle. Michael w
as seated near the open windows with a cushion beneath his sore bum. Grandfather was seated next to him. The musicians were at the ready in the corner. Donovan and Uncle Gareth stood near the doors, and Kieran O’Flaherty was standing behind the punch table, ready to serve their guests. His left arm was in a sling due to his injured shoulder, but he would be ladling punch with his good hand into cups Donovan and Uncle Gareth would hold for him. Together, they would serve each servant their first cup of Christmas punch. After Elizabeth made her speech they would all lift their cups in a toast to good health, good friends and good fortunes. 

At Elizabeth’s signal,
Donovan and Uncle Gareth opened the closed salon doors to admit their guests--the household staff and all of her husband’s retainers on the island.

Elizabeth stood near the musi
cians in the far corner, surveying the proceedings. The candles had all been lit and the mock Yule Log, a rather large piece of dried driftwood, was in the hearth. They would not light it until midnight, after the air had cooled. The Yule Log was a wonderful symbol for this year’s Christmas. Burning the Yule Log meant burning away the past year’s mistakes, faults and bad luck in the flames and starting the New Year with a clean slate. As it was fitting for this First Christmas at Ravencrest, as they needed a fresh start and a chance at happiness.

She was dressed in
green silk brocade ball gown. Her hair was swept up in a chignon. A beautiful set of pearls with matching earrings completed Elizabeth’s attire. She hoped the silk gown would not be too hot with so many people in the room. It was the tropics, after all and they would be dancing. This was her first ball as Mrs. Donovan Beaumont. She’d been dying for an opportunity to wear this lovely gown.

Donovan
was dashing in his coat of blue superfine. It brought out the blue of his eyes. He wore white breeches, a white linen shirt, and of course his gleaming black Hessians. His hair was secured by a black bow. He was without question the most handsome man in the room. Elizabeth may be slightly prejudiced, but as the other men in attendance were either her family or servants, she didn’t think she was too far off the mark in ranking her husband above the rest as attractiveness went.

Elizabeth’s spirits soared as the room filled up. She was anxious to have her part over with quickly so the dancing and feasting could begin. There were over fifty people gathered in the salon; the household staff, the stable hands, the guards kept about the estate to protect the family. The villagers from the wharf were arriving as well.

Captain J
ack Rawlings entered the room at the end of the line and took his cup from Donovan. He stood a head taller than most men, a rugged blond Viking with golden hair and deep blue eyes. He was several years her husband’s senior, yet the captain was still very handsome. Captain Rawlings came to greet Elizabeth. The cook informed her earlier that he had brought not one but two smoked hams for this evening’s feast, at her request and a rare goose to be roasted for the family dinner on Christmas Day.

“Captain Rawlings. You’ve rescued my
Christmas Party.” Elizabeth warmed to her praises of the man. “I cannot thank you enough. Where ever did you find
two
hams? Fritz has scoured the markets of St. Kitts and the island of Nevis in the past days and could not acquire one for our table. And you’ve brought a goose! How did you come by it sir? I must know your secret.”  

He avoided
Elizabeth’s direct gaze as he looked across the room at the large gathering. “All I can say is that the governor of St. Kitts will not be dining half as well as we will this holiday season.”

“Oh, do tell.” Elizabeth pleaded, desperate to know his secret so she would be well prepared for next year.

“Cargo goes missing from time to time.” He muttered. “And pray do not repeat this to anyone. A man must have his secrets, Lady Beaumont.” With that, he stepped away from her so she could not question him further.

Elizabeth
knew what he was implying. They were pilfered goods. The captain and her husband had been pirates in the East Indies. Apparently the captain still had a penchant for looting when the occasion arose. And hadn’t Donovan been the one to nudge her toward the captain and solicit his help in the matter? Oh dear, once a pirate . . . always a pirate? 

As soon as everyone
had been served a cup of Wassail punch by the male family members of Ravencrest, Elizabeth nodded to the violinist, who did an opening note to draw the company to order. Everyone was quiet. Donovan came to stand at Elizabeth’s side, bearing a drink for her and one for him. He handed her a cup and placed his arm about her waist, drawing her near.

As the gathering looked at them, he began
the speech. “I am told there is an old tradition in my wife’s clan, the O’Flahertys. In Ireland the lord of the castle would put on a feast each Christmas Eve for the benefit of his servants and his tenants. My bride, Lady Beaumont, has decided to continue the tradition here. My lady, you wished to say something?”

Elizabeth felt a rush of anxiety. All eyes were on her. She had planned it out
just so, with Donovan introducing her before she spoke to their guests. Actually standing before a room full of people, all of them waiting for her to give a speech and propose the toast proved daunting. Donovan’s hand pressed against the small of her back, offering silent encouragement. With him at her side, she had nothing to fear. He owned the island, the plantation, and he employed all of these people. Her mother had taught her to rise to the occasion in society, and so as the Countess du Rochembeau, she must now rise to her destiny. She smiled at him and took a deep breath.

“I want to thank
each one of you for your loyalty to his lordship and to myself.” she began, “When I came here from England a few months ago, I had a very arduous task before me as you well know; bringing this beautiful old plantation house back to life.”

There were nods all around and murmurs of agreement.

“I could not have accomplished this without your help. The entire first floor has been opened, cleaned and many of the rooms have been refurbished. I’m grateful to each member of my staff for their contributions to this endeavor.”

She paused, and then looked at her paid companion, the woman who started out as her personal maid. Chloe Ramirez was raised in position due to her loyalty during the difficult times when Elizabeth was struggling to assert herself against the very imposing housekeeper who had checked the new mistress at every opportunity.  The housekeeper had been fired when Donovan learned what was happening.
“Miss Ramirez, I’m grateful each and every day that you came to apply for a position within the household. Since that time you have become my dearest friend.” 

Chloe Ram
irez was radiant.  Her cheeks blossomed, matching the deep rose colored gown she wore as everyone looked to the woman and nodded. Chloe’s dark hair was adorned with tiny white flowers. She nodded at Elizabeth’s praise, but Elizabeth didn’t miss the shimmer of moisture in the woman’s eyes. Chloe had had a very difficult life here growing up. She was the child of the former steward and a slave woman. Chloe was lovely, vivacious and intelligent. Yet most of the islanders had scorned her for her mixed heritage. Elizabeth didn’t care what the islanders thought of her companion. She knew she had found a true friend in the woman and it pleased her to acknowledge that fact before the others and put Chloe first among them.

“Giles,” Elizabeth
addressed the butler next. “I am thankful that you came here from Basseterre to apply for the position of footman. I could not have accomplished all of this without your staunch support. You remained loyal when others within the household, who are no longer in our employ, worked against me. I thank you, sir . . . you are indispensible to me.”

The butler, who was
dressed in a fine bottle green coat and matching waistcoat with gleaming gold buttons, remained tight lipped. He nodded at her words. He looked very different, dressed as a well to do merchant and not an upper servant. His neck was crimped with fine linens and his dark and silvered hair had been dressed for the occasion. Giles St. Vincent could have been quite the dandy in his younger days in England, causing a stir with the ladies.

She continued on,
personally thanking each member of her staff for their service to her in the past months. Each one beamed with pride as she acknowledged their contributions before the gathering. There were twenty household servants, and each one deserved their moment of glory.

When Elizabeth
arrived as a new bride every room had been closed up in the manor house, save the handful used by Donovan or his uncle. The housekeeper was in fact a useless trollop, so the house was neglected and infested with spiders and centipedes. Donovan had given Elizabeth free reign in the endeavor regarding funds. Still, it had been an exhausting undertaking. The rooms had to be scrubbed and painted. The chimneys had to be cleared of bird’s nests or rodents. The drapes all needed to be replaced due to moths. Thanks to her army of maids and footmen, every room on the first floor had been reclaimed. These faithful people all had a hand in the resurrection of the plantation house. They deserved this night feasting and celebration.

And thus she told them so
, each and every one.

When Elizabeth finished with
the staff, she turned the focus to her elder brother, Kieran. “Few of you may be aware that my family lost someone very dear to us many years ago. Mr. Kieran O’Flaherty, my elder brother, disappeared when he was just nine years old. My family believed he was dead. Tonight we are celebrating the return of my brother to the Wentworth family. Kieran O’Flaherty is not dead, as we believed. We are blessed to have him restored to us and we as a family are celebrating Christmas for the first time together under one roof.”

Everyone looked a
t Kieran. He stood at the punch bowl, his ladle at the ready. His cheeks turned ruddy. He bowed to the audience and then to Elizabeth. “I’ve the best spot in the room.” He quipped, waving the ladle for all to see. “I’ll be getting into the punch soon, dear sister and then we’ll see if you still count me among your blessings.”

Everyone laughed
and murmured welcome to him. Kieran didn’t imbibe in spirits. He was playing the part of the merry Irish host, just as their father would have if he were alive.

“
And I brought two barrels of fine ale.” Captain Rawlings put in, lifting his cup of punch high like a trophy. “If the room isn’t spinning for every one of you by the end of the night, it’s your own fault, not mine nor Lady Beaumont’s!”

“Aye!”
The men cheered, lifting their cups in response.

“To Lady Beaumont
.” Captain Rawlings said, pirating away her toast to the the gathered staff. “Without her, none of us would be here, celebrating, as his lordship is not one for parties.”

“To Lady Beaumont.” Donovan echoed
his friend’s sentiment as he lifted his cup in agreement. “Without my darling wife, my life would bleak and gloomy indeed.”

Everyone lifted the
ir cups, toasting her. Donovan gave the signal to the musicians behind him to begin playing. As the song began, he took the cup from Elizabeth and set it aside. He took her hand and led her out into the middle of the room. The gathering parted for them, allowing them to begin the dancing as Bride and Groom, as if it were a wedding dance. Elizabeth was relieved to be rescued from her meandering speech by Donovan and his old friend, Captain Rawlings, aka Black Jack the pirate.

Everyone clapped
when their dance ended. The musicians began playing the country dances she had specified to help the servants and villagers feel at ease. It was their party, after all.

As the evening progressed, the kissing ball Chloe Ramirez made was a popular target many of the men used to advantage. Captain Rawlings stole more than one kiss from the Spanish beauty because of it. Chloe didn’t appear to mind the captain’s persistence in spiriting her beneath it, much to Uncle Gareth’s chagrin. Few knew Uncle Gareth and Chloe were lovers.

Donovan’s hired men
gave the captain stiff competition with the women. They danced with each of the household maids but Elizabeth noticed the men kept lining up to dance with the beautiful Miss Ramirez and whirled her under the implied mistletoe through the night.

Aside from
Donovan’s Uncle Gareth, Captain Rawlings was the only man bold enough to ask Elizabeth to dance with him. She was uncertain about accepting his offer but Donovan insisted, citing that Jack was his oldest friend. That settled it. The awkwardness between Elizabeth and the captain was officially behind them if Donovan could approve of a dance between them. Captain Rawlings had offered to help Elizabeth when she’d briefly considered leaving Donovan some weeks ago. Donovan and the captain come to blows over the incident, and the captain had given Donovan a black eye.

“How are things?” Captain Rawlings asked
her when they were out of Donovan’s hearing.