by Sole, Linda
He nodded his head, contenting himself with looking out of the window, his thoughts dwelling on the pretty young woman who had so kindly directed him here. It was good of her to have gone out of her way, especially as she had been obliged to put her trust in a man she did not know.
Tomas smiled. Both she and her sister were attractive young ladies, though not in the first stare of fashion. He thought Miss Lydia the prettiest of the two, though both would make a stir in London society given their chance.
Now why had he thought that? He could not know their circumstances, though something told him they were not wealthy young women. Obviously of gentle birth, they had perhaps fallen on hard times now that they had no parents.
Tomas did not know why the thought of Miss Lydia having to live with someone other than family should disturb him but it did…
‘I’m ready now, sir.’
Turning as Mr Jones spoke, he put the errant thoughts away. He doubted that he would ever see the young woman again, and perhaps that was for the best.
Tomas had obligations. His father had begun negotiations for a marriage some years ago. As far as he knew they had come to nothing for the young lady in question was no more than fourteen at the time, but, since he’d returned from the wars, it had been forced upon his notice that a certain young lady was expecting a proposal of marriage from him.
He had no desire to marry Miranda Jenkins but according to his sister, she expected a proposal daily. Tomas did not know how he was to avoid it - if indeed his father had made the promise for him…
*
Lydia was thoughtful as she accompanied her sister home to the Manor. She hoped the news about Harry Jones had not been too dire and had made up her mind that she would visit his father at her first opportunity. The thought that he might have lost his son was too lowering and quite cast her spirits down.
‘Is something troubling you, Lydia?’ Jane asked as they came in sight of the Manor. ‘That man…he did not harm you in any way?’
‘What? Oh no,’ Lydia laughed. ‘Nothing of the sort, sister. He was the perfect gentleman. I was concerned for Mr Jones. Captain Milliband came to bring news of Harry and I fear it may be bad news.’
‘That is unfortunate,’ Jane said. ‘We shall ask Millie to inquire when she visits her granny this weekend, unless we hear sooner. If something has happened I am sure my uncle will visit and do what he can.’
‘Yes, of course.’ Uncle Simeon could do more to help his former employee than Lydia, of course – but she would go herself as soon as she could. With all the work she had taken on for the Christmas gifts her time was not her own, for if she neglected it the handkerchiefs and the scarf for Mr Jones would not get made. ‘I do hope the news was not the worst.’
Lydia wished that Captain Milliband had confided in her, but of course he had thought it proper to tell Mr Jones first. She could in any case do very little, but she would continue with her gifts just the same.
Her thoughts turned to Captain Milliband himself. He was very handsome, so charming and thoughtful…and it was unlikely she would meet him again.
Sighing deeply as they entered the house, Lydia thrust her thoughts from her mind. She would meet someone she could like enough to marry one day, perhaps at the Christmas Ball…
Yet she could not help thinking of how blue the captain’s eyes had been and of the way he’d held her hand and smiled at her.
Now what foolishness was this? Lydia laughed and shook her head. One did not fall in love on such slight acquaintance. She knew nothing of Captain Milliband or his family – and it was unlikely that she would meet him again.
A sigh left her as she regretted the fact, for he had been so very charming.
‘Have you finished the handkerchiefs?’ Jane asked three days before Christmas. ‘Annabel thinks we should distribute the gifts tomorrow. All the sweets and cakes have been tied up in muslin bags with pretty ribbons, and Uncle Simeon has given us the gifts he promised. All we need is the kerchiefs and the boxes will be ready.’
‘Yes, here they are,’ Lydia said, taking a pile of neatly hemmed linen kerchiefs from her workbox. ‘I just have to finish my scarf for Mr Jones.’
‘We do not know if he will be at home for Christmas,’ Jane reminded her. ‘When Papa called, he was told that Mr Jones had gone to visit Harry at Captain Milliband’s home – and we do not know if he has returned.’
‘At least we know that Harry was wounded but still alive when his father went to visit,’ Lydia said. ‘I shall finish the scarf this afternoon and his box will be ready to deliver tomorrow.’
‘And the next day will be the day of the Christmas Ball,’ Jane said. ‘Are you excited, dearest?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Lydia’s face lit up. ‘We shall be wearing colours again, Jane – and perhaps…perhaps we shall meet someone exciting.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Jane said, but turned her face away. Jane had a secret that she had never told anyone. She was in love with someone, but it was hopeless and she could never reveal it to anyone. ‘I know Annabel and Mary have new gowns, but I had a new gown just before we went into mourning and do not need one. Shall you wear your jonquil silk?’
‘Yes, it has been worn only twice before and I did not like to ask my uncle for a new one,’ Lydia said. ‘I am quite content with it, Jane – and I have a new pair of satin dancing slippers.’
‘Yes, I know.’ Jane smiled affectionately at her. ‘I wish it might have been different, my love – but I fear we must make the best of things as they are.’
‘I am content as we are, Jane,’ Lydia assured her, but it was not quite true. She did not envy her cousins their new gowns, but she had been unable to get the thought of Captain Milliband out of her mind.
As Jane settled down with a book to read, Lydia went on with her knitting. The colour was a deep scarlet and looked warm and cosy, though some of her stitches and been dropped and picked up again, and she feared it was not as perfect as the scarves Annabel and Mary had knitted. However, it had been a labour of love and Lydia hoped that Mr Jones would not notice a few untidy stitches.
She worked diligently, her thoughts transgressing from the work in hand only half a dozen times. Had Captain Milliband thought of her at all? Of course he would not. He would not be interested in a young woman of no fortune who was only moderately pretty.
What a foolish girl she was to let her thoughts dwell on the handsome captain. She must forget him and think of the Christmas Ball, when she might meet an earnest young farmer who would fall in love with her and sweep her off her feet – it was the most she could hope for in her circumstances.
*
Tomas Milliband saw the young woman coming through the park and took a hasty detour. It was most ungallant of him to avoid Miranda, but he really could not bring himself to propose marriage to her. He knew that his sister had asked Miranda to their Christmas Eve party and if he must speak that would be the time – but he knew that if he allowed himself to be bullied into it, it would be the worst mistake of his life. The girl was attractive if you liked insipid silly creatures – but she sounded like a horse when she laughed and that would drive him out of his mind.
Besides, Tomas could not get the picture of a girl’s face out of his mind. Miss Lydia Savage. He knew nothing of her other than that she had a kind heart and her smile made his heart leap in his breast. She was probably not at all suitable as the bride for the heir to a great estate – but did that really matter if she was the one?
Tomas had not truly believed in love, though some of his friends raved over the young ladies they had married or become engaged to. As a young officer he had been attracted to a score of ladies, most of them married, older – and a few of them available. He had enjoyed some very pleasant liaisons with these ladies and imagined that he would be content to marry a girl of good birth and some fortune and find his pleasure in his mistresses.
One smile from Miss Lydia and all his notions had turned upside down. Tomas knew that he was b
eing very foolish, but somehow he had to see her again…
‘Captain Milliband…or your lordship, as perhaps I should say…’ Tomas turned to meet the old gentleman with a smile of welcome. Mr Jones had been a pleasure to know and his devotion to his son had worked wonders. ‘I think Harry is on the mend now and I ought to return to my cottage. There’s a few things I need to do if I am to live here, sir.’
Tomas looked at him in delight. ‘So you have made up your mind to take up my offer, Mr Jones. I am so very pleased. I know it will give Harry peace of mind to have his father close at hand – and your knowledge of gardens is much appreciated by my head gardener I can tell you.’
‘Thankee very kindly, sir,’ Mr Jones said and laughed. ‘It has been a pleasure for me. I never did want to retire but they wanted younger folk at the Manor and told me I must move to the cottage for pensioners.’
‘How foolish some people can be,’ Tomas said. ‘There is nothing like experience and Mr Harvey tells me that he will be able to produce some exotic fruits for our table now that you have given him a few hints. I should like you to continue in the role of advisor – and to potter in the greenhouses, as you will.’
‘You are very kind, sir.’ Mr Jones had a suspicion of tears in his eyes. ‘I thank you on behalf of myself and my son for all you have offered us.’
‘Nonsense. I have told you that I should have died had it not been for Harry.’ Tomas nodded his head, a pleasing thought coming to mind. ‘I shall take you home tomorrow, if that will suit you? Shall I bring you back immediately – or after Christmas?’
‘If it is no trouble to your lordship, I would prefer after Christmas. I have to say goodbye to a few folk…but it means two journeys for you…’
‘No, I think not,’ Tomas said and a smile of mischief touched his lips. ‘At least only a short one. I have been invited to stay with some friends nearby and I think I shall take up their very kind invitation.’
His sister was going to be very cross with him, Tomas knew. He felt a little guilty for spoiling her arrangements for Christmas, but he really could not spend such a wonderful time of year with Miranda staring at him hopefully from under the mistletoe.
When he returned from his visit then he would know…
*
Lydia had decided that she might as well wear her bonnet with the scarlet ribbons for the walk to Mr Jones’s cottage, and her red leather gloves. She did love the colour so much and there was only one more day to the ball. That was the day they were officially out of mourning, but she did not think her darling mama would mind her wearing scarlet ribbons a day sooner.
She walked with Jane and her sister to the village. They had divided the boxes between them, each of them having four boxes to deliver, except for Lydia who had three. However, two of her boxes were to deliver to the hamlet outside the village and a longer walk. When they reached the village, she delivered her first box to Mrs Shirley, a widow of some years. The lady was delighted with the gifts and thanked her profusely, insisting that she drink a glass of her homemade wine.
Lydia sipped it and then excused herself, explaining that she had to visit Nanny and Mr Jones.
‘I am not sure that Mr Jones is at home,’ Mrs Shirley said. ‘You may leave the box with me, Miss Lydia. I will see that he gets it when he returns.’
‘How kind of you,’ Lydia said, ‘but I have to visit Nanny and I will just see if Mr Jones has returned – and she is next door so it would be easier for her. You would have a long walk.’
Leaving the widow’s house, she walked briskly. It was a cold bright morning and she found her spirits lifting. Tomorrow was the day of the ball and she was looking forward to it, even though the gentleman she most wished to see could not possibly be there.
Reaching the little group of cottages, she saw that Mr Jones’s cottage looked closed up and sighed. She had hoped to see him and wish him a Happy Christmas, but perhaps he would return after the holiday.
Nanny was in her garden picking some holly for her decorations. She waved her hand and looked pleased when she saw Lydia, inviting her in to the warmth of her kitchen. It was a nice size and as neat as a new pin, with a big oak dresser, a scrubbed pine table and four chairs. On the dresser was a display of blue and white china, some fairings and various jars. Nanny took down one of the jars of cookies and put it on the table.
‘I’ve made some cinnamon twists for Christmas,’ she said. ‘Will you have a cup of tea with me, Miss Lydia?’
‘Yes, please, Nanny,’ Lydia said and kissed her soft cheek. ‘It is so lovely to see you. I’ve brought you a Christmas box. The gifts inside are from all of us: Jane, Annabel, Mary, my uncle – and me. They were made with love and we hope you will enjoy them.’
‘Oh, how kind you all are to remember me,’ Nanny said, her eyes moist. ‘I sometimes think of the old times and wish I was back with you in the nursery – though I know I am too old for the work these days.’
‘If I had a nursery I should ask you to come if only to advise,’ Lydia said and hugged her. ‘I miss you too, Nanny – but at least I can visit sometimes.’
‘You were always my favourite, though I shouldn’t say.’ Nanny poured boiling water into the big brown pot. ‘I appreciate your visits, Miss Lydia – even more than the gifts you bring me.’
‘Well, I usually bring only one gift,’ Lydia said and laughed softly. ‘But we have all worked hard to give you more this year. I had hoped that Mr Jones would be here but it seems…’
Nanny was at the window. She gave a little cry of surprise. ‘Well, there – what a coincidence! Here’s Mr Jones arrived with that nice Captain Milliband. He spoke to me when he came for Mr Jones – such a pleasant gentleman as he is too.’
‘Where…’ Lydia got up and went to the window. She saw the carriage pulled up outside Mr Jones’s cottage and then Mr Jones was getting out and shaking hands with Captain Milliband. She waved at them from the window but they didn’t notice her. ‘Oh, I am pleased…’
Lydia itched to go out and say something that would make Captain Milliband see her but politeness restrained her. Nanny had made the tea and was waiting for her to return to the table. She did so, sitting down as if her heart wasn’t urging her to run next door and speak to the handsome captain.
However, she was too fond of Nanny to leave before the visit reached its natural conclusion. Having drunk two cups of tea and eaten three cinnamon twists, she took her leave, kissing Nanny and wishing her Happy Christmas.
‘I shall visit you soon – and one day, if I marry, you can come and live with me,’ she said, kissed her on the cheek and left.
The carriage had gone. Lydia felt a wave of disappointment, but perhaps it was just as well. She could not have forced herself on the captain’s notice for it would have seemed too forward. A sigh left her lips because she had hoped that somehow she would meet him again and to have missed him…her disappointment was sharp but she forced it from her mind as she went up the path to Mr Jones’s cottage.
He opened it almost as soon as she knocked. His face lit with a smile and he invited her in to his cottage at once.
‘I’m that pleased to see you, Miss Lydia,’ he said. ‘I’ve lit the stove, though it will take a while to get going – but I can offer you a drop of sherry. It was Captain Milliband’s gift to me and it’s a good one. Come and sit down and tell me what you’re doing here, miss.’
‘I have brought you a Christmas box from all of us at the Manor,’ Lydia told him, ‘but I’ve been wanting to visit you for an age. Please, you must tell me how Harry is. I do hope he is better?’
‘Coming along nicely thanks to the captain and his sister,’ Mr Jones said. ‘He lost a leg over there in the line of duty – quite a hero, Captain Milliband tells me. I’m proud of my boy. The captain says he is clever and intends to employ him in his agent’s office – and there’s a place for me, too. I shall be leaving here after Christmas. I just came back to pack my things and say goodbye to people care for.’
&
nbsp; ‘Oh…’ Lydia had mixed feelings. She was pleased that things had turned out well for his son, but sad that she would not see him again. ‘I shall miss you – but I am truly pleased that Harry is recovering.’
‘Aye, I knew you would be, Miss Lydia. It was you and one other I wanted to say goodbye to. Your uncle and his family have been good to me in the past – but I’ve a special feeling for you, Miss Lydia. I shall miss you, too.’
‘Perhaps I can write – or even visit you one day?’
‘I should appreciate a letter if you have time, but I dare say it would be too far for you to visit me.’ He looked a little sad. ‘I am glad to be going in a way but…’ he shook his head. ‘I was mouldering away here, miss… just waiting for…but now I shall have a job and I’ll be with Harry.’
‘Then you must be happy. I shall be happy for you. You need to be with those you love, and your son needs you with him.’
‘Yes, he does, miss – and that is why I made up my mind to go, but there are two people I shall miss very much.’
It was on the tip of her tongue to ask whom else he meant, but then she knew. She had noticed how well they got on together and it would be just the thing…but would either of them be prepared to change their lives?
‘Why do you not ask her to marry you?’ she said. ‘I’ve just been visiting next door…and she was telling me she was lonely…’
‘Was she now?’ Mr Jones looked at her with eyes that twinkled and looked much younger than their seventy years. ‘Bless my soul, Miss Lydia. Trust you to know my secret! I would ask her in a minute if I thought she might accept.’
‘Why don’t you ask and see?’ Lydia said and laughed softly as she saw the look in his eyes. ‘Be sure to take some mistletoe with you…and kiss her underneath it. It is Christmas so you have the excuse, and if you’re suited you’ll see it in her face.’
