Fenella J. Miller (3 page)

“Allow me to serve you, Miss Baverstock. I’ve finished my repast.”

Her shock at seeing Sir James standing behind her caused her to inadvertently drop the heavy silver lid. It landed squarely on his booted toe. His exclamation brought colour to her cheeks. She’d never thought to hear such language in the house.

“I do beg your pardon, Sir James, but if you will creep up on a person in that way you have only yourself to blame if something is dropped upon your toe.”

Whatever had possessed her to say that? She would have done better to apologise unreservedly. If Lady Hartford were to hear of her pertness, she would be locked in her rooms without food or water as had happened several times before she’d learned to hold her tongue.

To her surprise, he took no offence; instead, he grinned. “And I beg
your
pardon, Miss Baverstock, for using such language in your presence and also for startling you.” His eyes twinkled wickedly as he continued, “I believe you did not hear me because of your hunger. Now, the matter is settled will you allow me to fetch your breakfast?”

How could he mention such a thing? The rumbling of her insides was not a suitable subject to be discussed between a lady and gentleman. “No, thank you, sir. I’m quite capable of fetching my own breakfast.” His eyebrows almost shot beneath his hair.
Oh dear!
She tried to improve the situation with a winning smile. It did not succeed. “I should like some coffee, perhaps you would care to pour me some?”

Frostily, he nodded. “I shall not discommode you further, madam. I shall leave you to eat in peace.” He strode out, back ramrod stiff, more than two yards of deeply offended masculinity.

Shrugging philosophically, she returned to the food and piled her plate with a little of everything. She was about to begin her repast when the door opened and Sir James stepped in. To her astonishment, he winked at her and then solemnly poured out two cups of coffee and brought them across.

“Do you prefer to drink it black or would you like me to fetch you cream?”

“I like it black. It’s a wonderfully restorative drink, don’t you think, Sir James?”

He pulled out a chair directly opposite to her, sat and then smiled. Her heart somersaulted. What was it about this man that made her feel so peculiar, forget her manners and behave quite out of character?

“Miss Baverstock, shall we start again? Yesterday was a most unfortunate beginning to our friendship. I cannot think why I stormed off in high dudgeon. I’m normally an even-tempered gentleman. So for a second time, I beg your pardon for my ill manners.”

She could not eat with any degree of enjoyment with him watching her every movement. She had been looking forward to this meal, and however charming this gentleman was, her need to eat substantially was far more important.

“Please do not be offended, Sir James, but I find it impossible to enjoy my food with someone watching my every mouthful. I have yet to thank you for carrying me home yesterday…”

He stood up and bowed. “There’s no need, you would not have been in such a predicament if I had not run you down. I fully understand your wish to eat in peace. I should like to talk to you again; will you be around later this morning?”

“I have tasks to perform, Sir James. I must organise the collection of the necessary greenery to decorate the house and I expect this will take me most of the day.”

“In which case, I shall leave you. No doubt we shall meet again soon.”

The door closed and the room felt strangely empty without him. This would not do; he was Eleanor’s intended, she must not think of him this way. Anyway, why should he be interested in her when he could marry a beautiful, titled young woman who brought with her a substantial dowry?

Eleanor and Amelia were not identical twins. In fact they could not be more different in personality if they tried. Whereas Amelia was sharp-tongued and quick to find fault, just like her mother, Eleanor was quiet and kind. Who she took after was a mystery — certainly not her papa who was had neither of those qualities. In appearance the girls were similar: both had abundant nut brown hair, hazel eyes and well-rounded figures. They both dressed to advantage, but Elizabeth was not surprised Sir James preferred Eleanor. She would be more biddable, far less likely to gainsay him.

Her appetite had deserted her. She forced herself to consume a quarter of what she taken but it did not settle well in her stomach. Since her life had been turned upside down two years ago, her digestion had become a problem. She was certain this was because of the constant agitation caused by the friction between herself and the new incumbents.

This would be the last Christmas she would spend at Hartford Hall. In the New Year she would start her employment as a governess. She had seen the advertisement in
The Times
and written several weeks ago. On the pretext of saying she was visiting her own ex-governess she escaped for three days to London where she met her prospective employers.

She was amply qualified, spoke both Italian and French fluently, could play the pianoforte and paint a pretty watercolour. All prerequisites of the kind of employment she sought. The fact that she could also teach Latin, mathematics and world geography was the deciding factor in being appointed despite her inexperience. She would not reach her majority until next November, but Lord and Lady Bath had been sufficiently impressed with her to decide to overlook her lack of years.

Their progeny were all under ten years of age, to them she would seem mature and she was looking forward to beginning her new life. The past two years had been miserable; there was nothing worse than being an outcast in one’s own home.

Pushing her plate aside, she drained her coffee and returned upstairs to put on her outer garments. She stopped. Her eyes widened when she saw what had appeared in her quarters. A large basket of hothouse fruit and an elaborate arrangement of flowers from one of the heated greenhouses was standing on the old pine table that had once been used as a desk.

There was no note, but she knew at once from whom they’d come. It could be none other than Sir James who had sent her up the gifts that had been given to him by his hostess. How kind of him to think of her. After all, she was a perfect stranger and yet he had considered her well-being. She blinked back her tears; it had been a long time since anyone had given her a gift of any sort.

The rich aroma of pineapple restored her appetite and by the time she had devoured half of it, she was tardy. She had no wish to keep the half a dozen outside men who were to accompany her, waiting in the cold. Her task was to find suitable mistletoe, holly, ivy and any other evergreens in the dense woodland that surrounded the park. A cart was to accompany them; this would need to be filled to capacity in order to decorate all the main reception rooms.

This was an undertaking she relished and one that Lady Hartford had been glad to delegate. Elizabeth had even been allowed to order the extra beeswax candles and the many yards of red, green and gold ribbon, that would be needed to achieve a festive look. A sack of fir cones had already been collected; these would be arranged in baskets and put on suitable surfaces.

Outside was crisp and dry, the blizzard long gone and just a thin coating of snow left behind.

She joined the group of men waiting by the cart. Only then did she see another party approaching; Sir James had brought along Eleanor, Amelia and two unknown gentlemen. Why did
she
have to be wrapped up like a woolly parcel when the other ladies wore elegant cloaks and matching muffs and bonnets?

J
AMES
H
AD
L
ITTLE
D
IFFICULTY
in persuading the two Bloomfield boys to accompany him in a search for greenery. They were as eager as he to stretch their legs and work off the enormous breakfast they had just eaten.

“Sir James, are you going out?”

He swallowed his smile. For all her sweetness Eleanor was not especially quick of intellect. “Indeed we are, Lady Eleanor. Why don’t you accompany us? We are going with Miss Baverstock to collect festive greenery. It’s been many years since I was involved in such a pastime and Mr. Bloomfield and his brother are to come too.”

Her brow creased as she considered his invitation. Then Ned Bloomfield, the eldest boy, turned to her. “Please, do come, it will be a lark. It’s ages since I’ve built a snowman. Won’t you help us do that after we finished collecting in the woods?”

She blushed prettily and smiled up at him. “Then I
shall
come. Elizabeth will be glad of my company I’m sure.”

Whilst they waited for her to run upstairs and put on what was necessary Ned turned to him. “I say, Sir James, what a pretty girl and so pleasant. I can’t remember when I was more taken with a young lady.”

“Unfortunately, sir, she is almost spoken for. I have been invited to spend the festive season here in order for us to become better acquainted.”

The young man turned an unbecoming shade of puce, tugged at his neck cloth as if it were strangling him and mumbled an incoherent apology. James was relieved when Eleanor appeared after an awkward ten minutes. However, this turned to dismay when he saw her unpleasant sister had decided to join them on this jaunt.

“La! Sir James, I could not allow all of you to go out in the snow without me. I am an intrepid walker, as everyone will confirm, and there’s nothing I like better than to be outside doing something useful.”

“We are delighted you have decided to accompany us. The more there are to help the sooner Miss Baverstock will be able to get back into the warm and take care of her cold.”

Amelia’s smile slipped at the mention of this name. He wished his words back but the damage was done. He saw her take hold of her sister’s elbow and pull her to one side. He could not overhear the whispered conversation but from the distress on Eleanor’s face she was being taken severely to task for involving any of the guests in an expedition that included the unwanted relative.

He was at a loss to know why he was so concerned for
this
young woman’s welfare. She was no beauty. Apart from her eyes, she had nothing to recommend her. His unexpected interest was certainly not because of her accommodating nature. She was not in any way submissive, but had a sharp wit and fiery temperament.

“If everyone is ready we must depart. I believe a cart is to accompany us and it never does to keep a horse waiting even one that is bred to work.”

A chorus of agreement greeted his suggestion. Surprisingly Amelia acquiesced and began a lively conversation with Ned Bloomfield. He could not help noticing Eleanor’s crestfallen expression as her sister pushed her arm through his and marched him out through the door. He hung back watching her. Her eyes followed the young man as he bounded down the steps like an over eager puppy. Why did she not look at him in that way? If he was not careful he would lose his sweet young thing to another suitor.

“Eleanor, Amelia, gentlemen, I had no idea you intended to come with me this morning, but you are most welcome. I hope you are wrapped up warmly for it will be decidedly chilly in the woods.”

Amelia stared at her through narrowed eyes and hissed, “I shall take charge of this venture, Elizabeth. As you are suffering from a head cold, why don’t you return to the house and leave the matter to us?”

If she had been offered the opportunity to avoid this venture a quarter of an hour ago she might have accepted. Her pleasure in the excursion had waned when she’d realised just how cold the weather was. For some perverse reason, now the others were to accompany her it no longer seemed like a penance, but a treat. “I thank you for your consideration, Amelia, but I am fully recovered and looking forward to doing this.”

“Then you may walk with the gardeners. Do not think to intrude where you’re not wanted or it will be the worse for you. Remember your position, one word from me and you will be homeless.”

Elizabeth’s happiness faded. She almost wished someone else had heard this unkind comment. Why did Amelia always have to spoil everything for her? There was no use railing against fate. There had been eighteen years of comfort and happiness at Hertford Hall so she must count her blessings and not dwell on such matters. She had a roof over her head, clothes on her back and sufficient food to eat, far more, in fact, than a lot of the poorer folk in town. Next week, she would begin a new life away from here and Amelia’s taunts could no longer hurt her.

She fell back to walk with the gardeners who greeted her with enthusiasm. The head gardener, Bert Smith, grinned and pointed to the cart.

“Why don’t you hop up on there, miss? There’s a pile of sacks to sit on and a rug to put over your knees. You still look a mite poorly; don’t want to overdo it not with all them guests to see to.”

“I shall do that, Bert, it’s a long time since I’ve stolen a ride in a diligence.” She scrambled up and made herself comfortable inside. She was far warmer snuggled up than she would be trudging through the snow.

“Here, miss, they ain’t going in the right direction. Shall we follow them?”

She sat up and peered over the edge of the cart, sure enough Amelia was leading them away from the best place to find holly with berries on. She should call them back, tell them they were incorrect, but some imp of mischief held her back.

“No, Bert, we shall continue as planned. No doubt at some point someone will notice our vehicle is no longer following them. I expect they will have had enough very soon and wish to return to the house leaving us to get on with our job without interference.”

“Sir James, look, the cart is going in a different direction from us,” Eleanor said quietly.

James glanced over his shoulder and saw she was quite correct. What was Miss Baverstock playing at? To play a trick on Lady Amelia was one thing, but quite another to involve her sister in such a stratagem.

David Bloomfield shouted after his brother who was marching gaily ahead with Amelia hanging on his every word. “Hey! Ned, we’re all going the wrong way it would seem. Tally ho! We must run to catch them up.” He set off at a spanking pace sending clouds of snow in all directions.

The couple turned and, holding hands, ran across the park diagonally; they would reach the cart first. This would not do; he couldn’t let the young striplings beat him. “Come along, my dear, we must join the race.” Laughing he grabbed her hand and prepared to set off.

“Please, Sir James, I do not care to run; I beg you, let us walk quietly.”

Her little face was screwed up with anxiety and he had not the heart to insist. “Very well, Lady Eleanor, we shall not join in their antics but behave like adults.”

He watched the other three laughing and calling out like children — what a shame his partner had not wished to join in the game. He’d not played the fool for a long time.

“My dear, do you not like to have fun? Surely you are too young to wish to give up such frivolity?”

She smiled sweetly at him, apparently unaware that he was disappointed by her lack of enthusiasm. “Oh, Sir James, I have never liked frivolity of any sort. I am of a serious turn of mind, and until today I had no idea my sister would enjoy such silliness. I did not think that Mr. Bloomfield was a gentleman of
that
sort.”

“He is a young man full of energy. One would not expect him to be staid.”

“Of course not, sir. I much prefer an older, steadier gentleman. That is why I have so enjoyed your company these past weeks.”

Good gracious! To be thought of as already past his prime when he had not yet reached his thirtieth birthday was doing it too brown. The others had joined the cart and there was a lively game of snowballing taking place between the four of them. This morning was a revelation. Amelia had proved herself to be full of fun and Eleanor…well she was old before her time. A pretty young thing, scarcely out of the schoolroom, but she was already wishing to be quiet and serious.

Hadn’t these been the very qualities which had attracted him? He shouldn’t cavil when his choice of bride behaved in exactly the way he expected her too. At least he no longer had to worry about the older Bloomfield lad cutting him out. He was more likely to make a match of it with Amelia judging by the squeals and giggles coming from that girl.

A shout attracted Elizabeth’s attention. To her amazement, Amelia and Ned Bloomfield were racing towards her, hotly pursued by the younger brother. Sir James and Eleanor were walking sedately so it would be some time before they caught up with the cart.

For the first time in ages, she felt a surge of excitement. Tossing aside the rug, she started to gather up balls of snow; this was her turn to join in the fun. To be part of this escapade lifted her spirits. Perhaps this Christmas would be happier than she had anticipated.

She crouched down behind the protection of the cart side and hurled the first missile. This was a hit direct, knocking Ned’s hat to the ground. His look of comical disbelief made her laugh out loud. She sent a second snowball hurtling towards Amelia hitting her squarely on her chest.

Both of them screamed a challenge and began scooping up snow to throw at her. She had the better of it, being able to hide behind the edge of the cart, but there were now three of them aiming at her and they were closing in. Should she surrender or fight to the bitter end?

“We have you now, Miss Baverstock, you shall get your comeuppance.” Ned appeared at the open end of the vehicle, an enormous snowball in his hand.

Without hesitation, she hurled her final projectile, hitting him full in the face. Her shout of triumph was short-lived as Amelia and David appeared on either side of the cart and bombarded her mercilessly with snow. Spluttering and laughing, she gave in.

“I am beaten — you are the winners of this fight.” She stood up and shook off the snow amidst the laughter. She waited for Amelia to return to her sniping, but the girl, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling scrambled up beside her on the cart.

“Elizabeth, I’ve never had such fun. Do you mind if I ride with you? I fear all that exercise has quite fatigued me.”

“Please do; you’re very welcome. I fear your bonnet will never be the same, I have had the best of it, being dressed like a scarecrow.”

“Never mind, no one is going to notice you anyway.”

Things have not changed between them, not really. A truce had been declared, a cessation of hostilities. Amelia was not stupid; she knew if her unkindness was observed it would not impress the guests.

“I say, Miss Baverstock, why did you abandon us?”

“Mr. Bloomfield, I have the task of collecting greenery; you are merely out for a walk. The holly trees with the most berries are just ahead, in the next stretch of woodland. Where you were heading is mostly oak, chestnut and ash and none of them are suitable for decorating the Hall.”