by Jo Ann Brown
“I meant no offense.”
“None taken.” She smiled as she finished tying the ribbons on Joy’s tiny hat.
“See? I already am making a bumble-bath of this.”
She picked up the baby. “Say what you need to, my lord.”
“When I saw those blankets, I thought about the children at the mining village. Do they have coats for the coming winter? As a child, mine was sewn from scraps my mother salvaged from old blankets or one of my father’s coats. I would gladly give the blankets to the miners’ families, but they are very proud people.”
“So you are wondering if they would accept them?”
“Yes, and if they will, how can I be certain the blankets will be distributed fairly?”
Drawing Joy’s little fingers away from the silk flower on her bonnet, Caroline said, “I suggest you speak to Raymond. As our parson, he knows which families are in need.”
“Good. I knew you would have a solution for me.”
“By passing you along to my brother. That is hardly a solution.”
“Nonsense.” He took Gil by the hand and led the way down the aisle. “You set me on the right track.” As they stepped outside, he turned up his collar and said, “Confound it, it is cold today. Feels more like mid-January than the end of November.”
“I hope this winter is not as unforgivingly cold as last year.” She moved around the church to get out of the wind.
He followed, but looked around the churchyard. “I recognize some of these people from my estate. I assumed they were attending church at that parish.”
“Recently they have been coming here because your parson has been ill. Raymond offered to go there to lead the services, but it was decided they come here so your parish church doesn’t have to be heated.” She let Joy kick her feet against the ground as if walking. “And you are here today, as well.”
“As I told you, I wanted your advice.”
She lowered her eyes from his steady gaze. How could she have failed to notice the amber flecks in his hazel eyes before now? They seemed to change intensity with his emotions, glowing like melted gold.
“Lady Caroline!” called a familiar voice.
Caroline turned to see the Winwood sisters coming toward them at a pace that belied their many years. Their hair was white, and their faces lined with matching wrinkles. Miss Hyacinth was dressed, as always, in a subdued shade of purple, while Miss Ivy wore her favorite dark green coat. Otherwise, the elderly spinsters were identical. They were the first set of twins ever born in Porthlowen and lived together in the small cottage where they had been born.
“Boat,” Gil shouted, jumping and jerking on Lord Warrick’s arm.
“Not now, Gil.” Caroline smiled as the twins neared. “Good morning.” Their eyes were, she realized, focused on the man beside her. “Lord Warrick, have you met Miss Hyacinth Winwood and Miss Ivy Winwood?”
“Yes.” He bowed his head politely. “However, it is always a pleasure to have the opportunity to be introduced anew to two charming ladies.”
Miss Hyacinth giggled like a young girl. “He has a silver tongue, doesn’t he?”
“As the Bible says, ‘The tongue of the just is as choice silver,’” quoted Miss Ivy, “‘the heart of the wicked is little worth.’”
“Proverbs,” Miss Hyacinth said.
“Chapter 10.”
“Verse 20.” Miss Hyacinth clearly did not intend for her sister to have the final word. “One of our mother’s favorite verses.” Without a pause to take a breath, she asked, “Are you just, my lord?”
Miss Ivy frowned at her sister. “Are you suggesting he might be wicked?”
“Most certainly not.”
“But you asked him if he were just.”
“A jest, Ivy.”
Caroline decided the sisters, who could bounce a conversation between them endlessly, had said enough on the subject. “Lord Warrick is looking forward to having his family join him for Christmastide.”
“How wonderful!” Miss Hyacinth said. “Warrick Hall has been too empty too long. Your uncle seemed to prefer his own company to anyone else’s, which was a pity.”
“Filling a house with family is always wondrous.” Miss Ivy’s smile returned.
“The more, the merrier. Don’t I always say that, sister?”
“Indeed you do.”
“Lady Caroline, you must be looking forward to Christmas as you have not for such a long time.” Miss Hyacinth smiled, as well.
“With the children,” confirmed her sister as if Caroline might have misconstrued Miss Hyacinth’s meaning.
“What a blessing! They must be excited about Christmas.”
Caroline jumped in when the sisters paused to draw a breath. “I would say we adults are more excited. For the children, a year is an impossibly long time, so they have forgotten last Christmas.”
“And this is Miss Joy’s very first Christmas,” Lord Warrick added.
“The older children will get caught up in the celebrations of Advent once they begin.” She ruffled Gil’s hair.
“Boat,” he chirped.
The sisters glanced at one another quickly, then turned to Caroline with the same puzzled expressions. “Does he want a boat as a Christmas gift?”
“Maybe, but I think it is more likely he wishes to sail his boat in the cove. It has been several weeks since the weather was clement enough to allow the children near the water.”
“Boat!” Gil insisted, stamping his foot with impatience.
She handed Joy’s fingers off to Lord Warrick, then embraced Gil as the twins moved away to talk to others. The hug seemed to satisfy the little boy because he flung his short arms around her neck and squeezed her breath from her. She reached up to loosen his grip, but her hands brushed rough ones. Raising her eyes to meet Lord Warrick’s, she knew she could not have drawn a breath at that moment, even if Gil was not holding her tightly.
“You need to let Lady Caroline breathe,” the baron said with a laugh as he lifted Gil’s arms from her neck.
His skin, which was as coarse as a plowman’s, brushed hers above her collar. Closing her eyes, she savored the sensation that banished the day’s chill. The contact was inadvertent, she knew, and she should pay it no mind. Easily thought, impossible to do.
Coming to her feet, Caroline shook herself. She needed to be sensible. Featherbrained flirting and stolen touches were for young misses looking for husbands. She was neither a young miss, nor did she want to remarry. Too bad she could not convince her nerves that danced with delight. She needed to get them under control again.
Immediately.
* * *
Jacob kept his eyes on Joy, who was trying hard to walk, wobbling even while he held her hands. Gil marched like a small soldier in front of the baby, encouraging her to follow him.
“Should I thank you, my lady, for rescuing my ears from the Winwood sisters?” he asked.
“I seldom talk of someone else’s business,” Lady Caroline replied, “but nothing can change the subject for the Winwood twins more quickly than a tidbit of information they have not heard before.”
“I saw the results with my own eyes.” He chuckled as he raised his gaze to the uncertainty on her face. “And heard it with my own ears.”
“They mean well. They were among the first to welcome the children to Porthlowen.”
“After you and your family did.”
“Actually, I believe they were on the sand when the children were rescued, so they saw them before I did. Many of the villagers went to see what the commotion was.”
“But none of them saw who shoved the boat into the water?”
“No.”
He frowned. “That means someone or maybe multiple someones are lying.”
“
Or not telling the whole truth.”
“What is the difference?”
“In this case, nothing.” She smiled. “I should know better than to discuss matters of logic with someone who taught at a university.”
Gil yelled with excitement as snow began to fall around them.
“Try this.” Jacob stuck out his tongue to capture a snowflake.
The little boy had a difficult time keeping his tongue stuck out because he giggled every few seconds. He ran around, bumping into people, until Lady Caroline called him to her side. He obeyed and kept his mouth open in case a snowflake fell into it.
When Lady Caroline frowned, Jacob said, “Don’t scold him for copying what I did.”
“I should scold you instead?”
“Nobody should be scolded. Every boy needs a few bad habits,” he said with a laugh. “It is only as we grow older that we have to become civilized and require tuition in how to become so. Speaking of lessons, when would you like me to come to Cothaire for our first one?”
She picked up Joy and cuddled her close. He liked how her face softened with love as she looked at the baby. A twinge cut through him as he thought of his promise to help discover the whereabouts of the children’s families. It was painful to imagine her happiness becoming grief when she had to return the children.
“That is your choice, my lord,” she said, drawing him from the uncertain future to the present. “You have many tasks while I am at loose ends. If it is more convenient, I can come to Warrick Hall.”
“Go Warrick!” Gil forgot about snow as he tugged on Jacob’s coat. “Cuddle kitties.”
Jacob arched his brows. “News does travel fast in Porthlowen.”
“He asked about the cat hair on me the other day.” She smiled an apology before looking at the little boy. “Lord Warrick is a busy man, so you need to wait for him to ask you to visit.”
Gil nodded.
“How are the cats doing?” she inquired.
“Well. Since we brought them into the house, the mother cat and her kittens have left dozens of dead mice at the kitchen door. The cats prowl the corridors, the closets and the corners.”
“It sounds as if they are making themselves right at home.”
“I would say so. They show no interest in returning to the stable. Mrs. Trannock is pleased the cat has already killed or scared away the mice that chewed on boxes and bags in the pantries. Though I wonder how long the cats will hunt.”
“Why?”
“I have no doubts the mother cat is being fed treats, because she often follows Wherry around the house like a shadow. Actually three shadows, because her kittens go wherever she does.”
“Go see kitty now?” asked Gil.
He laughed when Lady Caroline rolled her eyes at the little boy’s idea of patience being quiet for barely a minute. “That is Lady Caroline’s decision. You are welcome any time you wish.”
“Now?” Gil whirled to Lady Caroline.
Over the little boy’s head, she met Jacob’s eyes evenly. “I would not mind examining those blankets you found. Will your carriage hold all of us?”
Carriage!
How could he have forgotten Howell had had the carriage waiting when he came out of Warrick Hall? The carriage horse needed exercising, and Shadow, his Arab, was reluctant to come out of his cozy stall on such a cold morning.
Jacob had considered returning the horse and carriage to the stable and having his horse saddled, but he had been late already. He decided he would take the carriage because no one else would be in it. He need not worry about another tragedy.
His stomach ached as if someone had punched him. Take them in his carriage? For the past three years, he had been successful in devising excuses to avoid having passengers with him. So successful he had let his guard down today.
Lady Caroline’s simple question brought forth his unreliable memories. Many were bits and pieces of sights and sensations. His stepmother believed it was because he had struck his head hard against the road. He recalled a fragment of something Virginia Greene had said to him earlier that evening, but only a few words. Something about being vexed with him. Because he had not asked her to marry sooner? He had hesitated to propose because she could be fickle in her moods, but he had promised Beverly he would make Virginia an offer of marriage that night. He could not recall getting on one knee to propose, but he must have. He could remember a splinter of agony when he woke by the broken carriage. It was as if every bone in his body had broken, though only his arm and two ribs had. He would never be able to forget the unsteady image of Virginia lying on the ground, not moving. The next thing he knew, his brother was leaning over him, calling his name. A haze of pain; then nothing until he awoke in his bed.
If he could only remember what had happened before Emery arrived... Those memories were gone, along with everything before he and Virginia had stepped into the carriage. He recalled Virginia pleading with him to let her drive, but was unsure if her words came from that day or another. Why would he have agreed to let her drive if the roads were not safe? But he clearly had, and she had died.
“Is something wrong?” Lady Caroline asked as her gaze searched his face.
How he wished her eyes were not keen! Then again, sweat beaded on his forehead, and he had frozen in midstep. Even the most opaque person would notice something was amiss.
Hoping no sign of his thoughts emerged into his voice, he said, “Nothing important.” Guilt surged through him anew at his lie, so he amended, “Nothing that is important right now.”
“If you are worried about traveling in an open carriage with the children, I assure you that Gil has no intentions of letting go of your coat.” A smile drifted through her words. If it was on her face, he could not tell because he stared at the ground. “He does not plan to let you out of his sight until he is able to pet your kittens.”
Perspiration cascaded along his back, even though the air was cold. How could he explain to her that just the idea of having her and the children as his passengers during the short drive from the church had revived the disgust and guilt and anguish he felt in the wake of the accident?
“Are you unwell?” she asked, concern filling her voice, when he did not answer.
It was the excuse that would free him from taking her and the children to Warrick Hall. And it was the truth. He felt as if he would spew everything in his stomach at any moment.
“Yes.”
“Are you well enough to drive to Warrick Hall? I can take you there if you wish.”
No! Worse than having someone riding with him would be having someone driving him as Virginia had the night of the accident.
“I can manage,” he said, forcing his feet toward his carriage. He felt like a bounder leaving her and the children to walk to Cothaire on such a chilly day.
“Cuddle kitties!” Gil’s excited voice drove another dagger into his heart.
She shook her head with a gentle smile. “Not today. Lord Warrick is not feeling well.”
“Ouchie?”
“Yes, ouchie.” She held out her hand to the little boy. “If there is anything we can do to help, please, send word to Cothaire.” She took a step, then paused. “Why not come Tuesday afternoon for our lesson? If you feel well enough by then.”
“I am sure I shall.”
She gave him a scintillating smile before walking away with the children. They ducked their heads into the wind as they began the climb to the grand house overlooking the cove.
A renewed surge of guilt almost drowned him as he went to his carriage. He knew, no matter how fast he drove to Warrick Hall, he would never escape it.
Chapter Five
It was silent in the beam engine house, save for the clatter of tools against metal. Pym was crouched near the steam engine as he checked every bolt and c
onnection. Above him, Jacob was doing the same.
Nothing!
He could not see a single thing wrong. He rubbed his hands on an already filthy cloth, then pushed his spectacles back into place. What could have stopped the beam engine? It had been working well last night. Even when he had left Warrick Hall intending to ride to Porthlowen to talk with the parson about the donation of blankets, its rhythm had been regular. He had not gone more than a half mile, though, before he was turning his horse away from the sea and onto a narrow track across the moor.
The door opened, and he peered over the railing to see who was entering.
“Lady Caroline!” he gasped.
Pym popped up from beneath the engine, bumping his head into a pipe. He rubbed his skull and started to curse, then stopped, turning the color of the lady’s dark red coat.
“I guessed,” said Lady Caroline as if both he and Pym had greeted her politely, “you might be hungry.” She held up a large basket with a piece of fabric over the top.
Jacob took the steps two at a time. He knew he was grinning like Gil with a new toy, but he did not care. After they had spent three frustrating hours of trying to fix the engine and getting nowhere, her arrival was like a second wind.
“That was a very good guess, my lady,” he said as he cleared the last step.
He admired the warm flush on her cheeks. The interior of the building was only slightly warmer than the air outside. When the steam engine was functioning, the open space at the front of the engine house, where the beam rocked in and out, offered a way for the sometimes overwhelming heat to escape. Now cold air was flooding in.
“I thought it was a safe assumption.” Her light blue eyes twinkled with merriment as her lips tilted in a smile.
Her oh-so-kissable lips.
Looking away, he wished he could erase that thought from his head. A man who had seen the last woman he loved die in front of his eyes should never let another woman slip past the defenses he had raised.
“Why would you say that?” He hated the gruff sound of his voice but hoped the clank from Pym’s direction would smooth the roughness from it.
