His Christmas Match (A Gentleman's Guide to Once Upon a Time) (8 page)

The maid went to the dresser on
the far side of the room and removed Penelope’s nightdress.
 
Rosalind decided she would prepare for bed
once the maid had Penelope situated and moved closer to the fire.

The maid then removed Rosalind’s
nightdress from a separate drawer and placed it on the opposite side of the
bed.

“You don’t need to worry about
me,” she insisted.

“I am to take care of you and
Lady Penelope,” the maid informed her.

“You are a guest as well,”
Penelope reminded Rosalind as she presented her back to the maid.

It was odd having someone else
see to her things.
 
Rosalind’s life was
humble. The only servants at the vicarage were a cook, butler, and
housemaid.
 
None of them ever had a maid to
help them dress or prepare them for an outing. If a dress needed to be fastened
there was always a sister about to assist. Her brothers and uncle learned to
tie their own cravats.
 
The boys helped
in the stable and yard when they could, such as cutting wood, and the girls
assisted in keeping the house clean and preparing the meals.
 
With such a large family, it was difficult
for one cook to see to every dish.

As Penelope slipped out of her
gown, Rosalind did the same and pulled the nightdress over her head.
 
Before she was finished, the maid had taken
Penelope’s gown along with Rosalind’s and placed them in the armoire.

“Will you need anything else this
evening?”

“I don’t believe so,” Penelope
answered.

The maid stirred the fire and
added more coal before facing the young women.
 
“Please ring if you need me.”
 
With a quick curtsey, she quit the room.

Penelope practically jumped in
the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin.

“Are you still cold?” Rosalind
asked as she slid into the opposite side.

“Yes, and I can’t imagine why.”

“I am sure you will be warm as
soon as you are settled.”
 
She turned the
lamp down on her side of the bed, and Penelope did the same.
 
The only light in the room came from the
fire.

“I heard what she said to you,”
Penelope whispered in the dark.

“Who?” Rosalind asked.

“Lady Jillian when she told you
not to make a mistake while she sang.”

Rosalind shrugged. “It was a
reasonable concern as I had missed notes in the song before.”

Penelope blew out a sigh and
rolled toward Rosalind. “It was not reasonable, and she talked to you as if you
were her servant.”

“I am a servant,” Rosalind
chuckled.

Penelope rolled onto her back.
“You aren’t hers, and you aren’t one this week.”

Rosalind said nothing.
 
Penelope couldn’t understand what it was like
to live in her world.

“I am not so certain I approve of
her for Noah.”

“It was one comment,” Rosalind
reminded her.

Penelope shifted but did not
argue. “I think I will spend a little more time with Lady Jillian. If she truly
wishes for Noah to pursue her, then she would do well to encourage a friendship
with me.”

“Lord Felding’s wife should be on
good terms with his sisters,” Rosalind agreed.

“That is not why I want to foster
a friendship,” Penelope said. “I am not sure I like her.”

Rosalind could not fault
Penelope. If one of her brothers was pursuing a woman with potential matrimony
in mind, Rosalind would do her best to get to know the woman and find out as
much as possible before it was too late, and they were all miserable.

* * *

Noah sat upon his bay and looked
out upon the landscape as he rode toward the trees. It had snowed last night,
and the once green lawn was a blanket of white not yet marred by footsteps or
animal tracks unlike behind and ahead of him where the horses disturbed the
snow. There was a peacefulness to the scene.
 
He had come out of the manor before everyone else and simply stood.
 
Nothing matched the silence as a world
covered in snow.
 
There weren’t many
noises in the country, but it was never truly silent either. Not like when the
world was covered in white.

“Might I have a word with you,
Felding?”

He turned to find Broadridge
beside him.
 
The others had gone ahead,
and Noah had lingered back enjoying the peace of the morning.
 
He didn’t enjoy the hunt as so many others;
he simply wanted to ride. The fact that Broadridge, who was an avid hunter,
pulled away from the group to come back to him made Noah suspect what the man
wished to discuss.

“I’ve noticed that in London and
here you have shown my sister particular attention.”

He probably should have spoken to
Broadridge, or Lady Jillian’s father before now, but he still didn’t know her
well enough to engage in an official courtship.

“I find Lady Jillian’s company
enjoyable.”

Broadridge nodded.
 
“Your attention to her has prompted comments
to me.”

Noah pulled up on the horse and
shifted in his saddle.
 
“Are you asking
my intentions?”

Broadridge stopped beside Noah
and lifted an eyebrow. “As her brother, I do have that right.”

Of course he did, and Noah
probably should have said something to the gentleman sooner, but he was not yet
ready to make a declaration.
 
“I met Lady
Jillian only a short time ago. I had hoped to come to know her better this
week.”

Broadridge continued to stare at
him as if waiting.
 

“If all goes as I hope, and if I
believe Lady Jillian would be receptive of my suit, I thought to call on His
Grace following Twelfth Night and asking permission to pay court to Lady
Jillian.”

The man said nothing but
continued to stare at Noah making him very uncomfortable.
 

“Is there someone else?
 
Should I not consider your sister?” He would
certainly rather know now before he expended more effort toward a courtship if
there was not to be one.
 
It wasn’t as if
his heart was set on marrying Lady Jillian. He believed they would get on well
with one another, and she could fit in with his family.

A slow grin spread across
Broadridge’s face before he clapped Noah on the back.
 
“You have my blessing, and I am sure my
father will agree.”

Blessing?
 
Noah wasn’t certain he was ready for anyone’s
blessing, and a bit of panic surged through his veins. He was simply coming to
know Lady Jillian to see if they would suit. He wasn’t ready for anything
permanent to be attached to his attraction. Right now that is all it was:
attraction to a beautiful woman.
 
He was
comfortable in her presence but beyond that he wasn’t ready to make any form of
permanent declaration at this moment. “As I said, I am just coming to know Lady
Jillian. I will let you know if I wish to speak with His Grace at the end of
this week.”
 
He nudged the horse to catch
up with the others.

Perhaps he should have waited
until the Season began to spend more time in her company. He could have danced
with Lady Jillian at a ball, ridden in Hyde Park, and attended any number of
activities that would not have been as obvious because several gentlemen would
have been doing the same.
 
It was a safer
venue if one wished to come to know a lady. Here, with a select few guests, any
attention he showed one lady in particular was remarked upon and courtships
were being discussed.
 

Should he cease seeking her
out?
 
Should he ask another lady to
stroll with him?
 
There were several
misses attending the house party. There were many who would suit just as well
as Lady Jillian.
 

Perhaps that was what he should
do and renew his attention towards Lady Jillian in the spring.

Noah groaned as they came upon
the group of riders. He didn’t want to wait until spring.
 
If they didn’t suit, he would need to begin
his search again which took time. If he had to listen to his step-mother and
sisters exclaiming over his bachelor state for another season, he might just
end up in Bedlam.

As much as he didn’t wish to
bring attention to his intentions, it was best that he continue what he began.
If he and Lady Jillian did not suit, it was better to learn now so that he was
prepared to seek out the perfect woman when the Season began. There had to be
one lady who would make a fine wife.
 

The clouds thickened, and Noah
glanced towards the sky.
 
The sun was
completely blocked, dulling the day, which began to match his mood.

Looking for a wife was a
difficult task even with his simple requirements.
 
He needed a lady to stand by his side who
could navigate society. He needed a lady to see to his homes and accept that he
had a step-mother and three remaining sisters to care for. He needed someone he
enjoyed spending time with and who he could converse with on a variety of
subjects.
 
And lastly, he needed an
enjoyable bedmate.

Noah pulled up again. Lady
Jillian was most of those things even if he had never had a long conversation
with her. Her personality seemed to suit his.
 
The one concern was the type of bedmate she would be.
 
Noah dreaded the possibility of marrying a
lady who saw the producing of heirs, and how one went about it, as a duty not
an enjoyment.
 
He didn’t want a cold
marriage where he visited her room, lifted her gown, went through the motions,
and left her alone to return to his cold bed.
 
Was it too much to ask for a passionate wife if he couldn’t have love?

Lady Jillian was reserved more so
than most ladies.
 
She was also the
daughter of a duke which might be the reason for her demeanor. Perhaps marriage
would be a more relaxed role for her. There was the possibility that a
passionate woman lurked beneath the proper façade, but how did one determine if
such was the case?
 

He glanced over at his friends,
Lavins, Meadows, Chambers and Parker. He had no doubt they had chosen their
wives well and found enjoyment with their spouses.
 
They were also in love.
 
Was love required for passion?

Noah dismissed the thought. He
had known passion with a number of women, so love was not necessary. However,
he truly wished for it to be present in his marriage. He just needed to
determine if he would find such passion with Lady Jillian, and the only way to
go about it was to kiss her.

Seven

Rosalind stretched and yawned
before rolling on her back and opening her eyes. The room was much brighter
than she anticipated, and she jerked her head toward the window.
 
The sun had been up for hours, and she
couldn’t remember the last time she had slept so late.
 
She looked to the opposite side of the
bed.
 
Penelope lay curled on her side
blankets drawn up to her chin. Rosalind slipped quietly from the bed so as not
to disturb the young woman before padding across the room to check the time. A
small watch was sitting upon the dresser, and she lifted it turning the face
toward the window.
 
It was only half past
nine.
 
While not terribly late by Society
standards, it was far past morning for her. If she had been in the Sandlin
household, Rosalind would have already been dressed, and the twins would have
been awake for hours.

Penelope groaned and rolled to
her back; her face was alarmingly flushed. Rosalind rushed to her side and
placed a hand against her cheek and then forehead.
 
The young woman was burning up with fever.
That was why she was so cold the night before! She was becoming ill!

Penelope cracked her eyes and
looked at Rosalind.
 
“What time is
it?”
 
Her voice was more of a rasp than a
whisper.

“Half past nine.”

She let her eyes fall closed
again and moaned. “I hurt everywhere.” Her tongue darted out, and she tried to
lick her dry lips.
 

“Let me get you some water.”
 
Rosalind hurried across the room to pour a
glass of water and came back to Penelope.
 
“I’ll help you sit up.”

She settled on the side of the
bed as Penelope struggled to rise. Supporting the young woman with an arm
behind her back, Rosalind placed the glass against her lips to help her drink.

“What is wrong with me?” She
asked after a few swallows.

“You’re ill,” Rosalind stated as
though it was obvious.
 
“Do you hurt
anywhere specific? Are you nauseated? Does your head hurt?”