“So, let’s see if I understand correctly.” Gus pushed back his plate and poured a glass of sherry for himself and Miss Comden. “Your father, who died this past October, left this pompous fop in charge of Miss Hor—er, Tia.” He nodded his head at the young girl in acknowledgment of her request.
They both nodded.
“He arrived, decided to keep one of the dowries by marrying Miss Comden, and save the second by putting Miss Tia in the York Asylum.” He rubbed his jaw. “He must be an idiot.”
“Oh no, not hideous at all. He’s quite handsome,” argued Tia.
“No.” Miss Comden shook her head at Tia and raised her hands. With her right middle finger, she tapped the middle finger of her left hand. Then she made a half circle with her right thumb and forefinger and laid it against the extended forefinger of her left.
“I-D—Idiot!” cried Tia. “Oh, yes, he’s certainly that.”
Gus’s brow scrunched, and in a moment, he’d put the pieces together. “Good God, she’s deaf.”
Tia smiled indulgently. Miss Comden held her breath, blinking rapidly.
“Please, don’t cry.” He stood and hovered over the older sister. “I’m sure it will all work out.”
“I know it will. It must.” She dotted the corner of her eyes with her napkin and gave him a watery smile. “I think all the excitement and worry has caught up with me. Once we are over the border, I’ll figure out a better plan. We had so little time to decide what to do.”
“Will he come after you?” Gus wouldn’t mind a chance to throttle the man if he showed up at Bliss Manor. He would send a note off to his brother the morning and see what Nate could find out about Lord Turnsley. “I only know his reputation as a wastrel. His father is well-respected and also a baron, I believe. He’s cut his son off several times, refusing to pay his debts, but his mother dotes on him.”
Miss Comden took a deep breath, as if relieved their secret was out. “Truly, I don’t think he cares what we do as long as it doesn’t dip into his coffers.”
Gus snorted. His male ego wanted to thrash this scoundrel and shield these two females from any more mishap. Now he understood MacIntyre’s fierce protectiveness. “I am sorry you had to go through such an ordeal. I want you to know you are safe here.”
Miss Tia beamed at him. Miss Comden gave him another teary smile. His stupid grin returned.
“I’m glad to hear it.” Mrs. Willoughby stood at the door with a tray of tarts.
“I suppose you heard?” There wasn’t much that escaped his housekeeper.
“Enough to know they’ll be staying for a bit.”
Jasper and Pup peeked from behind her gray skirt. “We’ll sleep in the hall and guard them,” the youth said.
“I told you not to wander with the master home.” She looked at Gus. “I apologize. He’s used to free rein with the house empty for so long. He’ll do better.”
Miss Tia let out a squeal of delight. She hurried across the room and fell to her knees, the scruffy, straw-colored dog jumping on her lap. Her giggles mixed with Jasper’s laughter as the mutt licked the girl’s face.
Gus watched the two youngsters play with Pup. “It seems they’ve become fast friends.”
Mrs. Willoughby left the tarts and collected her charges, informing them that Sally would be upstairs whenever the ladies were ready to retire. He noted the droopy eyes of his guests. Miss Tia yawned loudly, and her sister announced she was done to a thumb, so he escorted them upstairs. Tia led the way, though not with the same energy she’d had at their arrival, and Miss Comden accepted his arm as they followed.
Her hair smelled of vanilla and lavender. He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled the distinctly feminine scent. As they reached the landing, he bade them goodnight. After Tia closed her door, he caught Miss Comden by the elbow. “Please, try not to worry. Consider me your champion in this matter.” He’d pay off the villain himself if need be.
“I’m afraid your heroics have given you much more than you expected,” she half-whispered. Her eyes glistened, turning the sandy orbs to gold and back again as the tapers in the wall sconces flickered. “I am so very sorry for the inconvenience we—”
“No! Never apologize for something you have no control over.” Gus took her hand. He wanted to pull her close and tell her he’d protect her with his last breath. But how could that be? They’d met only hours ago and barely knew one another. “It sounds ludicrous, but I believe fate led me to you. If I had not glanced down the other path, if the moon had not appeared at such an opportune time, you might still be waiting along the road.”
“And MacIntyre might have caught his death.” She tried to smile, but her lips trembled as her eyes remained downcast.
“Yes.” He tipped up her chin with his free hand, cursing himself for the spontaneous familiarity. “And I would have never met the most intriguing, beautiful woman and her entertaining sister.”
He bent and placed a lingering kiss on her hand, not trusting himself to look into those amber depths a moment longer. “Goodnight, Miss Comden.”
“Goodnight, Dr. Wharren,” she breathed, then turned on her heel and disappeared behind the chamber door.
Gus stood in the hall for a long moment. He was convinced destiny had thrown them together tonight. But why? As he climbed the stairs to his own quarters, his grandmother’s words echoed in his head. Open your mind and let your heart speak. He rubbed his neck, then grunted as a wisp of cool air tickled him. He had to find out where that draft was coming from.
Chapter Five
December 23, 1813
Etta slept soundly. In fact, she had a better night’s sleep than she’d had in months. Without their usual staff to wake them, the sisters had slept late. She replayed scenes from the night before as Sally helped her dress.
Consider me your champion in this matter. He’d kissed her hand. Her heart had almost pounded through her chest.
Tia appeared at the open door. “I’m hungry. Let’s go!”
She thanked Sally, sent her on her way, then took her sister’s face between both hands. “Mind your manners.”
“Fine.” Tia grinned. “He likes you.”
“He’s a nice man. I’m sure he likes everyone.” Her face grew hot.
“His eyes were on you every time he thought you weren’t looking. And that silly smile on his face in the carriage and when you walked into the room.” She kissed Etta on the cheek. “I don’t need to hear his words. His heart speaks for him.”
She rolled her eyes. They just met the man. Yet, Etta had been drawn to him from their first shared glance. He’d seemed almost… familiar.
“We will check on MacIntyre this morning. I feel terrible he caught a chill helping us.”
Tia squinted at her sister, watching her lips. “What is the housekeeper’s name?
Etta spelled it out.
“Oh! Willoughby. And the boy?”
She spelled out Jasper and then Pup. Tia nodded. “I like them. We should stay till after Christmas Day. You cannot think to travel at the start of Christmastide.”
“Tia, not everyone looks forward to this celebration as you do, especially in Scotland.” She frowned at her sister’s stubborn face. “Don’t you dare invite yourself.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’ll have to,” she said smugly.
They found the breakfast room by following the scent of sausage and strong coffee. Silver dishes covered a side table with enough food to feed a small village. Tia squealed when she discovered the chocolate, poured the hot liquid into a cup, and dipped her finger in it.
“Tia!”
“I know, I know.” She picked up a spoon. “Mind my manners.”
Dr. Wharren entered, refreshed and handsome in a dark gray pinstriped waistcoat that stretched across his broad shoulders and matching gray breeches with a modest cravat. His midnight hair was combed back and framed his square jaw. She had the oddest urge to trace the cleft in his chin.
“Good morning. I hope you both rested well?” He sp
oke to both sisters but made sure his face was visible to Tia.
The sweet gesture made Etta smile, which made Dr. Wharren smile, which made Tia giggle. As they took their places at the table, the physician cleared his throat.
“I took the liberty to have your carriage repaired and brought here. Unless travelers passed through overnight, your presence along the road will be our secret.” He sipped his black coffee. “Johns and the small staff in residence have been instructed to keep quiet about our guests. Mrs. Willoughby had planned on hiring more staff with my arrival, but she’ll wait.”
Etta’s hand went to her throat. “Has MacIntyre’s condition worsened overnight? Is he unable to travel?”
“Your butler is greatly improved. He’s requested an audience with you later today.” He set down the fragile china cup. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve posted a letter to my brother, so we know exactly what we’re dealing with.”
“In other words, how desperate is the man?” Etta was relieved the Scot was recovering, but worried she would pull this generous, considerate man into their troubles.
“Yes. I think it would be best if you stayed here until we determine his frame of mind. When he wakes today and discovers he’s been duped, his temper may…” He held up a hand when she tried to argue. “MacIntyre would protect you with his life, I know. But I can keep you both safe without such a noble sacrifice.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. She attempted to hide her face and wipe it away, but another one followed and another.
“Miss Comden! My apologies if I’ve overstepped.”
She shook her head, unable to speak. Her chest tightened and all the fear and resentment of the past weeks came spilling out. Tia hugged her until the sobs subsided, and she hiccupped. Horse feathers!
“I’m sorry,” she choked out. “I’ve been so frightened, and we had nowhere to turn except MacIntyre.” A handkerchief appeared in front of her. She took it and blew her nose, wondering if it was as red and puffy as her eyes must be.
“So, those are happy tears?” he asked doubtfully.
She nodded.
“She does this all the time.” Tia rolled her eyes. “Cries if she’s happy, if she’s sad, sometimes if she’s really, truly angry.”
“There is nothing wrong with strong emotions.” His lips quirked. “I’m glad I can ease your mind, though I would prefer a smile.”
Etta obliged and sniffed. “Is it proper for us to stay here?”
“As proper as marriage to a cad and imprisoning a lovely young lady to an asylum.”
She giggled. “I suppose you’re right.”
“I moved into the west wing last night. If our secret ever gets out, we never slept under the same roof.” He stood and wiped his mouth with the napkin. “Now, I have some to work to finish this afternoon. However, this evening we shall enjoy some entertainment. I’ve heard our guests can play and sing beautifully.”
Etta grinned, knowing that information had come from their butler. She quickly mouthed the word “music” for Tia and imitated playing a piano. Tia nodded.
“I look forward to it.” He left with a glance over his shoulder that sent Etta’s pulse racing.
Tia poked her sister in the side. “I told you he liked you.”
“He’s a caring and generous man.”
“I’m off to find Jasper and Pup.” She kissed Etta’s cheek and strode from the room. “And I shall behave myself, I promise.”
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly. She spoke with Mrs. Willoughby and sat with MacIntyre, reassuring him that all was well.
“He’s a good man,” said the Scot. “Ye ken I’m an astute judge of character. We can trust him.”
“Do you think the lack of chaperones will harm our reputation later?” Etta sighed, wishing society and the wagging tongues were no concern. She didn’t care so much about herself as her sister.
“These are strange times. We’ll do what we must to keep Miss Tia safe.” He patted her hand. “Ye’ve shown courage the past weeks. Yer da would be proud.”
She nodded. “Thank you, MacIntyre. You’ve been my shoulder to lean on for so long. Whatever happens, promise you’ll stay with us if you can.”
“I’ve nowhere else to go, lass.” He gave her a sheepish grin. “Would ye mind reading to me for a wee spell?”
“Of course.” Twenty minutes later, he was sound asleep.
Etta went upstairs to find Tia. As she reached the first landing, she heard a soft humming. It was a female voice. “Tia?” She followed the sound.
It led her to the library. She opened the door and stepped inside. The room was empty, but the shelves of books beckoned to her. “I wonder if there are any romance novels here for Tia,” she said aloud.
“I’m afraid not,” a deep voice answered behind her.
Etta spun around and stumbled into the arms of Dr. Wharren. His hands gripped her waist as she tried catch her balance. She could feel his breath, warm against her cheek, as she turned her head, their faces so close. Her palms flattened against his hard chest as she pushed back, increasing the distance between them.
“My apologies, Miss Comden, but someone was humming—”
She licked her dry lips; his eyes followed the movement of her tongue. Etta suddenly regretted the space that now separated him, wondering what his kiss would feel like. Their eyes locked, and a heat rushed through her body. Horse feathers! Say something.
“I-I heard it too.”
“It wasn’t you, then?” he asked, his gaze finally lifting, his green eyes dark as a pine forest at night. “I couldn’t quite catch the melody, but I swear it sounded like Grandmama.”
“A ghostly tune?” She inspected the room, half-expecting to see Tia and Jasper hiding in a corner. “It seems we were both lured here.”
“The servants say my grandmother has not left yet. Mrs. Willoughby insists a spirit cannot join their maker if they have unfinished business.” He laughed. “My brothers and I hated the gallery. We always thought the eyes on the paintings followed us.”
“What do you think your grandmother left undone?” A ludicrous idea, she knew, but there was a presence in this house. And where had the voice come from?
He shrugged. “Just servants’ talk. Have you noticed it began snowing again?” He nodded at the window. White flakes swirled and dipped to create a fluffy border around the edge of the panes. “With the strong winds, it seems nature will be blamed for your forced stay. It also means your cousin cannot travel.”
Etta chuckled, her mood soaring. “I’m devastated on both counts.” She strolled along the wall of books, various colors of leather binding with titles in gold or black letters. “Do you like to read?”
“Of course, I’m a physician.” He followed her, his hands clasped behind his back.
“For pleasure or only knowledge?” Her finger trailed the worn spines and stopped at Belinda by Maria Edgeworth. She pulled it out and peeked inside. “A first edition. Tia will be overjoyed.”
“Is there a difference between prints?”
“For this particular novel, a great deal of difference. The story reprinted a few years ago had all the scandalous parts removed.”
“Then I can see Miss Tia preferring this one.” They both laughed.
“Miss Comden—”
“Please, I think after everything you’ve done for us, Etta would be appropriate.” She breathed in his scent of bergamot. The spicy citrus and floral reminded her of a fortifying cup of tea with a bit of orange added. Yes, his presence bolstered her much like a cup of strong Congo tea.
“Etta, why don’t you keep this volume a secret for now? I will give it to your sister as a gift on Christmas Day.” He reached out for the book and brushed her hand. Two pairs of eyes locked on to his fingers covering hers.
A tingle shot through her limbs, and she sucked in a breath. “You are, I mean, that is very generous,” she bumbled as heat stained her cheeks. “I fear the day has flown by. I must change for supper.” E
tta shoved the novel at him, picked up her skirts, and left the library pell-mell.
December 24, 1813
Gus combed back his hair and adjusted his cravat. He gave his silver waistcoat a final tug as his valet held out the black tails. He wore a new pair of black trousers and turned in the cheval mirror, admiring the fit. He had spent two delightful evenings with the Comden sisters. Tia was accomplished on the pianoforte and the harp with the help of a clever tool that moved back and forth like a pendulum. She memorized the first notes of a piece and watched the swing of the needle to keep the rhythm of the song. Etta would accompany her with the lyrics and had the voice of an angel. Her face lit up as she sang, her light brown eyes twinkling with golden flecks.
His affection for Etta swelled. Not only was she a prime article, but she was also compassionate and loyal. Isn’t that what a physician needed in a wife? He often worked long hours at odd times. Etta would understand.
It had been years since he’d thought of marriage. He’d been betrothed once, but the woman didn’t understand his philanthropic attitude. She had asked to be released from her promise.
He entered the drawing room to find the greenery had arrived with several baskets of ivy and laurel. Miss Tia and Etta sat on the chaise longue, winding the pine boughs together to lay upon the mantel.
“Well, I see you’re earning your keep,” he quipped.
“Christmastide is almost upon us.” Miss Tia pointed at the hearth. “The Yule log needs to be lit.”
“I don’t keep many of the old traditions, but the cooper always delivered a log for my grandmother. He has obviously continued the practice. Oh, and I smelled mincemeat pies earlier. Johns will deliver them to the tenants tomorrow.” He picked up one of the long lengths of evergreen and laid it over the mantel. “Tell me where you want it, and I’ll hang it for you.”
The scent of pine filled the room as they arranged the boughs over the windows and doorway. The snow continued to fall outside, and he thanked his luck and the weather for cooperating.
Mrs. Willoughby brought in another basket with rosemary and holly. He smirked when Tia held up the mistletoe and wagged her brows, her head nodding sideways at her sister. Gus decided he liked the girl even more.
O Night Divine: A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales Page 45
