The Christmas of a Countess (The Holidays of the Aristocracy Book 1)

by Linda Rae Sande

  A bit of hope for her future once again burning inside, Alice nodded. “I would appreciate that. And if he doesn’t come, then I suppose I will have my answer.” Try as she might, she couldn’t keep her lower lip from trembling.

  The earl gave her a quick nod, turned, and opened the door.

  Adele stood on the other side, her look of annoyance and the way her brows suddenly furrowed a rather unwelcome sight just then.

  Chapter 38

  Apologies Abound

  One second later

  “Lady Torrington!” Milton said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He turned and said, “Thank you, Miss Simpkins,” with a nod before shutting the door. A few servants poked their heads out of their rooms, but quickly retreated into their quarters and shut their doors when they realized they might be seen by the earl paying witness to his late evening visit to another servants’ quarters.

  Adele glared at him, but held her tongue, waiting for him to explain himself.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” he whispered.

  “I know that,” she replied in a hoarse whisper. “But did you really have to take fifteen minutes to apologize? I thought you would be back in your bedchamber by now.”

  Milton gave a shrug. “It takes a while to eat crow,” he countered, his voice kept low. “Anyway, you knew I was going to apologize to her. Why...?” He stopped when he realized she held a folded note in her hand. “What’s this?” He took the note from her, although she didn’t give it up easily.

  “I think it’s a letter of resignation,” she whispered. “From Mr. Banks.”

  The earl had the note unfolded and was reading the beautifully rendered script even as Adele said the words he never thought to read.

  Recent changes in my family’s situation require my immediate presence in Darlington. I do not expect I will be relieved of these obligations; therefore, I must tender my resignation immediately. Yours in service, Alonyius Banks.

  “Bullocks,” Milton breathed. “When did he give this to you?”

  Adele shook her head. “He didn’t. I found it on your bed when I went to find you. You were supposed to help me...” She glanced about to be sure no one else was in the hall. “Undress me,” she finished in a whisper.

  Milton nodded. “As much as I want to do that, and believe me, I do, I really should discover Banks’ whereabouts.”

  His countess nodded her understanding. “Don’t be up too late, dear. We have wreaths to make in the morning,” she reminded him, giving him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. She hurried off, leaving the earl in the middle of the hall.

  Well, he can’t have gone far, Milton thought as he considered the options. It wasn’t as if the man could walk to Darlington.

  He would require transportation. He would need a horse.

  Intending to send a footman to the stables to look for the valet, Milton turned around to find Mrs. Miller regarding him from where she stood a few feet away.

  How does she do that? Milton wondered.

  “May I be of help, my lord?” she asked brightly. She was still fully dressed in her regular drab day gown, her chatelaine hanging from one pocket.

  “Which room was Banks assigned to?”

  Her eyes widening, the housekeeper gave a nod in the direction she faced. She walked with the earl to the end of the hall. “This one,” Mrs. Miller said as she stood back, apparently expecting the earl to kick open the door.

  He gave her a nod and knocked on it instead. “Mr. Banks?” he called out, trying to keep his voice down lest he wake any more servants. When there was no answer after another moment, he opted to try the knob and found the door opened easily.

  Although there was evidence someone had been in the room, there was no sign of Mr. Banks.

  Milton cursed.

  At the other end of the hall, Alonyius Banks halted in his haste to get to his quarters. Having left the note for his master to find later that night, he had then made his way to the stables to see about borrowing a horse. Although he didn’t relish the thought of traveling at night, the weather had improved, and he had a linen filled with a substantial meal, thanks to the leftovers from his lord and ladyship’s dinner. Besides, he found he simply couldn’t face another day at Torrington Park given what had happened on this one.

  To have begun the day with a woman in his arms—a woman he now realized he loved—and then to have been falsely accused of taking payment for his attentions toward her was simply untenable.

  The Earl of Torrington had made mistakes during his tenure, as would anyone in his position. Yet, at every turn, he had apologized for them. Done what he could to make things right. In this case of what had to be a simple misunderstanding, he bore some of the responsibility.

  Nay, he bore all of it.

  It was the earl’s words that Alice had overheard from the billiards room. His words that had her believing the valet had been paid to bed her. To improve her countenance.

  But his own lack of a suitable rejoinder to the earl’s comments hadn’t helped, to be sure. I could have made my position more clear. Insisted I wasn’t inconvenienced. I could have told him I planned...

  Damn.

  At this point, Alonyius was quite sure there was no making this right. What could his master do, after all?

  What can I do?

  Alice Simpkins was convinced he was no better than a... than a prostitute!

  He needed to do something quick, though, for there were two people going into his quarters this very moment. When they discovered he wasn’t there, they would be stepping out and possibly directing their search elsewhere. They might come this way.

  They will come this way, he suddenly realized. There was no exit from that end of the hall!

  Alonyius did the only thing he could. He ducked into the nearest room he could and quietly closed the door, his back pressed against it so he could listen. Listen and wait until they left the hall so he could grab his valise from his room and take his leave.

  Which meant he was entirely unprepared for the soft body that collided with his, for the small hands that cupped his cheeks, and the lips that took purchase on his for a kiss he wasn’t expecting.

  The scent of citrus enveloped him, reminding him of his favorite bath. Of the delectable body that had been in that water. Of that body when it was beneath him.

  His body responded before he could, his manhood remembering quite well what this body had done to him earlier that very morning.

  Just this morning? Christ, but this had been a long day!

  When the lips left his, they spoke in soft, hurried words. “I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry.” And then they kissed him again, only to pull away before he could respond. “Oh, Alonyius, can you ever forgive me?” And then they resumed the kiss that he was still trying to return.

  His hands finally went to her sides, gripping her waist in an attempt to push her away. But one of her hands went to the back of his head, pulling it down to meet hers. The ticklish sensation of her fingers spearing his hair sent a shiver through his entire body, and then he simply gave up trying to fend off her advances.

  When she finished the soft kiss, she allowed a wan smile. “The earl was here a few minutes ago. He came, and he... he ate crow. He explained everything,” she whispered frantically. “I’m so sorry I misunderstood. I should have known you wouldn’t do anything unless it was of your own volition.” She suddenly glanced down his front and regarded him with a look of worry. “Why are you wearing your coat?”

  The question jolted Alonyius out of his stupor, but he simply stared at Alice for several moments. “I... I was about to leave for Darlington,” he stuttered, suddenly wondering why the hell he would attempt to do such a thing after nine o’clock on a winter night. On a horse.

  Am I daft?

  He closed his eyes in a effort to steady himself. Yes, but only because I am lovesick, he considered. Never having experienced such a heady feeling, he was unprepared for how it affected him. One moment
, he was as happy as he had been in his entire life. A moment later, he wished he were dead.

  At this moment, he was somewhere in-between. Confused and relieved, tired and a bit bruised, he realized how odd his words must sound to the woman whose warmth was melting his hardened heart.

  Alice stared at him, giving up part of her hold on him to step back. “But, why?” Her eyes suddenly widened. “Did something happen at Mill House? Is your mother—?”

  “Not that I’m aware of,” he managed with a shake of his head. He glanced down to find her wearing a night rail and nothing more. Her bare feet poked out from beneath the hem, her toes crunching up after a moment.

  “I changed into it as soon as the earl left. I was praying you would... you would come and spend the night with me again,” she murmured, her body falling against the front of his. She knew she should have at least pulled on a dressing gown when he stepped into her room, but she’d been so glad to see him—so shocked he had appeared only moments after the earl’s departure—she couldn’t help her immediate reaction.

  Had he been just outside the door when the earl paid his call?

  Alonyius closed his eyes as he moved his hands to the sides of her shoulders. He rubbed her arms a bit, as if he had to be sure she was real. “I’m not sure what to say,” he whispered, finally wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He held her then. Held her and kissed her hair.

  “Then come to bed.”

  The invitation was rather welcome just then. He was so tired—physically exhausted and emotionally drained—he merely nodded. From the muted conversation taking place at the other end of the hall, he knew the housekeeper and the earl were still nearby. “They’re looking for me.”

  “The earl is. He wishes to apologize,” Alice said as she undid the buttons of his great coat. She pulled the front open and helped to slide it from his shoulders.

  “I tendered my resignation.”

  Alice paused in pulling the coat from his body, but she turned and draped it over the room’s only chair. “He won’t accept it,” she stated with a shake of her head. “He values you too much to allow you to leave.’” She moved to stand in front of him and then slowly undid the knot in his cravat. He didn’t help as she unwound it from around his neck, careful not to crush it any more than it already was. Undoing the buttons of his topcoat and then his waistcoat, she dared a glance up at him.

  He was watching her, his expression not giving away his thoughts on anything.

  “Can you ever forgive me, do you think? I should have known you wouldn’t take pay for bedding me,” she whispered. “I don’t know why the earl’s words bothered me so.” She gripped his shirt, her small fists catching folds of the lawn fabric and jerking them from his breeches so he could pull it from his body. Instead of folding it as she knew he usually did, he tossed it toward the chair.

  “I forgive you,” he whispered as he gathered her into his arms.

  “I love you,” she said, her words almost lost in how her face was buried into his neck, her flat breasts pressed into his bare chest.

  “What did you say?”

  Alice pulled away a bit. “I love you. I love you.” The second time was said much louder, so loud it could probably be heard out in the hall. Heard by anyone who might be passing by at just that moment.

  Especially by the earl.

  “Banks? Are you in there?” The unmistakeable voice of the Earl of Torrington sounded through the wooden door.

  “I am, my lord,” Alonyius replied, turning his head so his voice was directed along the wall.

  “I do not accept your resignation.”

  Grinning, Alice whispered, “I told you.”

  Alonyius sighed. “Understood, my lord.”

  There was an awkward pause before the earl’s voice sounded again. “See you in the morning then. Nine...” There was a bit of shuffling and a slight pause before Torrington continued. “Ten o’clock, but no later. Tomorrow is the hanging of the greens. That goes for both of you,” he added.

  “Very good, my lord.”

  The sounds from the hallway faded away, a few of the doors down the hall shut once again, and Alonyius sighed. The servants would no doubt enjoy a bit of gossip on the morrow. “If I don’t get into a bed this moment, I shall fall down.”

  Alice led him to the bed and then stood before him.

  However would he have made it to Darlington? Why the man looked as weary as she felt, although his appearance had buoyed her spirits enough to make her smile. “Would you like me to fetch your valise?”

  He shook his head. “No. Well, maybe.” He closed his eyes and allowed a grin. “It’s behind the bed in my quarters.”

  Feeling ever so sorry for the valet, Alice pulled on a dressing gown, took a torch from the sconce on the wall, and made her way to his room. When she returned with his valise, she found him completely undressed and crawling under the covers.

  A moment later, she joined him.

  “Thank you, my love,” he murmured, pulling her close. “I shall reward you in the morning.”

  They were soon both asleep.

  Meanwhile, out at the stables

  “Where do you suppose he is?” Haversham wondered as Higgins joined him at the stable’s main door.

  “Dunno. Do you think he got caught?”

  Haversham shook his head. “He’s a clever fellow. He wouldn’t get caught.”

  “Prob’ly burying her as we speak.”

  “Yeah, that’s prob’ly it.” Haversham allowed a sigh. “Could hardly believe it when they both got out of the coach this afternoon. I was sure he did her in about ten miles out.”

  “Me, too, what with the way the coach was jerking about,” Higgins agreed.

  The two stood in silence for some time, their breaths coming out in white puffs.

  “Well, I’ll be taking the earl and his countess for a ride in the sleigh tomorrow afternoon,” Haversham commented.

  “Gonna help with the wreaths?” Higgins asked, his hands shoved into his pockets as he continued to watch for the valet’s return. “Heard the guv’nor cut down a bunch of trees.”

  Haversham gave the groom a quelling glance. “Thought I might. Never done it ’afore.”

  “I heard wire is involved, so I thought I best help.”

  “Who told you that?” Haversham asked.

  Higgins gave a slight shrug. “The cook.”

  The driver straightened and glared at the groom. “Watson?”

  “Yeah. Watson,” Higgins agreed, his gaze traveling up to find the driver glaring at him. “What?”

  “You... spending any time with her?”

  Shaking his head, Higgins replied, “Just eating her food.”

  Haversham seemed to relax a bit. “Well, seeing as how I’ve been up since ’afore dawn, I’m gonna get to bed.”

  “Seein’ as how I was up ’afore you, I think I will as well,” Higgins countered. “What do we do with the horse?”

  Haversham sighed. “How likely is it Banks is gonna leave ’afore dawn?"

  “Prob’ly take until then just to dig a hole.”

  “Ground’s so frozen, it’ll take longer than that,” the driver said with a huff. He turned around and led the horse back to a stall. A moment later, he joined the groom and the two walked back to the house.

  Heading down the hall to the servants’ quarters, they gave each other questioning glances until they both stood outside the same door.

  “This isn’t your room,” Haversham said.

  “’Taint yours neither,” Higgins replied.

  The heavy wooden door opened to reveal the apple-cheeked cook. Dressed in a night rail, her orange hair hidden by a voluminous mob cap, Watson gave the two a quelling glance. “What took you so long?” She grabbed one of their hands in each of hers and pulled them both into her room. Daring a quick peek around the edge of the opening to be sure no one saw her visitors arrive, she quietly shut the door.

  She might have been a bit late in getting to the
kitchens the following morning.

  Chapter 39

  It’s Beginning to Smell a Lot...

  The following morning, Tuesday, December 24

  A rather happy woman on this fine Christmas Eve day, Watson suddenly frowned as she prepared breakfast for the Torrington Park servants. Having cracked a dozen eggs into a large cast iron fry pan, her nose suddenly lifted into the air. Abandoning her station at the stove, the eggs slowly becoming opaque as the whites cooked, she directed one of the maids to take over. “Turn these in a minute or two,” she ordered before she continued to follow the strange odor. “And get the ham slices in a pan.” Just before she took her leave of the kitchens, she gave a glance back at her domain. “What is that smell?” she wondered out loud, her nose lifting into the air.

  “Happy Christmas, Miss Watson. That odor you smell is pine. The great hall is filled with pine boughs,” the other kitchen maid said with a grin as her arms spread wide. “Devlin said they spent more than two hours gathering them yesterday.” Although she claimed she wasn’t sweet on the tallest footman in the household, the kitchen maid certainly spent a good deal of her time in the man’s company—when she wasn’t in the kitchens.

  The cook angled her head to one side, remembering this wouldn’t be a normal day in Torrington Park. Besides having to see to feeding the usual servants, there were four additional servants as well as the earl and countess. The hanging of the greens would commence whenever the footmen had the tables set up in the great hall. Instead of serving a luncheon or a tea later in the day, she would serve the equivalent of an indoor picnic. Later, she would make a light dinner for everyone in the household, and then, if the new countess allowed it, there would be the servants’ ball later that night.

  Just the day before, the earl had informed her things would be a bit backwards this year. I wish to start the season with a ball, he had said when he found her in the kitchen. Not hold off until Twelfth Night.