“Hugh, take Mary’s travel bag. Mary, come with us and get into the coach. You are coming to Scotland. We will not allow you to spend Christmas on your own.”
Words of feeble protest struggled to her lips, but when Mary saw Hugh’s tight-set jaw as he stepped forward and took a hold of the bag, she knew they would be to no avail. She released her grip on the travel bag, giving him a wan smile as he tucked it under his arm.
“Good. That is settled. When we return after Christmas, I shall have a word with the dean,” he said.
Mary followed Adelaide and Hugh back to the coach. As she took her seat inside, Charles leaned forward. “You weren’t seriously thinking that they were going to let you spend Christmas on your own, were you? The Radley family’s Christmas motto is that no one gets left behind.”
“Unless of course you are a bloody stubborn duke,” muttered Adelaide.
Chapter Six
With Mary now on board the travel coach, and Hugh’s missing book safely in his hands, they set out across country to meet the Great North Road and continue their journey to Scotland.
While Adelaide and Mary were making polite conversation about the baby and how well he was doing, Hugh was lost in his own thoughts, most of which consisted of him raging at himself. By the time they made their final stop for the day at the Bell Inn in Stilton, he had worked himself into such a foul mood that he cried off supper and went for a long walk instead.
With his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his greatcoat, he trudged through the snow-covered streets of the town. There were only so many ways a man could be angry with himself, but Hugh Radley was determined to work his way through the list. He passed several taverns on the road and was tempted to go inside and have a pint, but he knew he would need more than alcohol to take the edge off his self-loathing.
The walk finally began to have its desired effect and his mood lifted. As he turned and started to head back to the inn, his thoughts returned to Mary. It was a relief to know that she would not be spending Christmas on her own, that she was coming to Scotland with him. He had much to atone for when it came to her.
Mary had not only been dealing with grief over the death of her father, but the impending loss of her home. He, meanwhile, had been so preoccupied with his final exams and career progression that he had failed to see what was happening under his very nose. He had not been there for her when she needed a friend.
“And to top it all off, you forgot to get her a Christmas present. Hugh Radley you are a selfish blackguard,” he muttered.
Back at the inn, he found Charles rugged up in a greatcoat and seated in front of an open fire outside in the rear mews, his back against the wall of the stables. His head was buried in a newspaper. He didn’t look up until Hugh sat down beside him.
Hugh glanced at the newspaper. It was the L’Ami du Peuple; a radical popular newspaper from Paris. With the French king in custody, and the whole of France in turmoil, émigrés such as Charles were constantly in search of news from their homeland.
“What is happening in France?” asked Hugh.
Charles folded the paper up and sat it on his lap. While his hands remained steady, his boot was tapping hard on the stone ground. He sighed. “They have given all French citizens who are living abroad a deadline to return home or forfeit any land that they hold in France. I shall have to sell everything I own within the next twelve months or lose it all. I tell you, Hugh, France is going to hell.”
For the second time that day, Hugh was sharply reminded that the world did not revolve around his studies or himself. Charles had been an open supporter of King Louis, but with the king and his family now under arrest, Charles dared not return home. His brother-in-law was trapped in exile in England.
Charles pulled two cheroots from his pocket and lit them using a lighted taper from the fire. He handed one to Hugh.
“I’m sorry, Charles. It must be so hard to be this close to home but know that you cannot risk going back.”
“If it was only me, I might chance it, but I have a wife and a child to consider now. I would never put Adelaide through that sort of worry, knowing that I might never return. People have started disappearing in France, and I have a feeling that we are only just at the beginning of something terrible,” he said.
Hugh drew back deeply on his cheroot, then held the smoke in his mouth for a moment before pushing it out with his tongue. A pale gray smoke ring formed and hung in the still night air. Charles snorted his appreciation of the trick.
“Astuce,” he said.
Hugh settled back against the stone wall of the stables. It was good to be headed home to Scotland. He had missed Christmas the previous year, being too busy with exams and preparation for his last year at university, and he had spent the last twelve months regretting it.
“I hope you didn’t mind Adelaide and I inviting Mary to come with us. We both got a little riled up over her having to find a new home after all those years living at the university,” he said.
Charles was a decent man, his calm nature a balm to his wife’s sometime skittish behavior. His sister had chosen her partner in life wisely.
“Is that what you are telling yourself? That the only reason you raced after Mary in the middle of Cambridge was out of some sense of righting an injustice? Please, let me know when you actually start to believe that coq et taureau story,” replied Charles.
Hugh didn’t answer. He could proclaim his actions were all in aid of a young woman unfairly treated, but they both knew there was more to it than that. He and Adelaide could have gone to speak with the dean before leaving Cambridge; matters could have been resolved. But that would have left Mary still in Cambridge, and he on the road to Scotland.
He drew back once more on the cheroot, silently grateful when Charles opened his newspaper once more and went back to reading.
Today had been a day of unexpected revelations. He’d experienced genuine fear when he discovered that Mary had been evicted from her home. Of greater concern was the fact that she had not confided in him. That she had decided her own overwhelming problems were too insignificant to share.
That she somehow thought he didn’t care.
“How long are you planning to stay at Strathmore Castle?” asked Charles.
“Christmas, then Hogmanay, finally finishing up on Handsel Monday.” Hugh counted the days out on his fingers. If they arrived on the twenty-third of December, then stayed to Handsel Monday on the seventeenth, he would have just under a month in Scotland.
He wanted to get back to England earlier, but knew his older brother, Ewan, would insist he stayed for the annual handing over of gifts to all the castle staff on Handsel Monday.
“I will be leaving early on the eighteenth of January,” he replied.
Charles nodded. “Well, dear brother, you may think you have plenty of time in which to sort out the Mary Gray situation on your own. But I would counsel you to make haste if you want the decision to be yours alone.”
Hugh understood the underlying meaning of his brother-in-law’s words. The previous year, the dowager duchess, Lady Alison, and Great Aunt Maude had shamelessly played cupid. On Christmas Day, the Duke of Strathmore had made Lady Caroline Hastings his wife.
Knowing his mother and great aunt, as soon as they set eyes on Mary, they would be looking to replicate their success. Two Christmases; two weddings. He couldn’t fault the logic. He wouldn’t be disappointed if indeed that was what transpired, but only if Mary was willing to take a chance with her heart.
Hugh broke off the burning end of his cheroot, and after butting it out in a small patch of snow, he put the remainder in his coat pocket. He got to his feet.
“I shall bid you a good night, Charles,” he said.
“I won’t be long out here. Adelaide is settling William down, and I shall go up to our room shortly. Good night, Hugh.”
Hugh snorted. Charles would do anything to avoid being exposed to the smell of his son’s soiled linen clout before bedtime.<
br />
As he walked back into the inn and sought the warmth of his bed, Hugh Radley was struck with a thought. Earlier in the day he had sent prayers to heaven about finding his book and they had been answered. With the unexpected addition of Mary to the group headed for Scotland, perhaps another of his longtime entreaties had finally been heard.
Chapter Seven
Mary looked at the price tag on the long emerald and blue scarf and put it back on the table. It was beautifully made, the thread around its edges no doubt real gold. The silk scarf was worth more than the cost of all the clothes on her back.
“That’s nice. It suits you—it matches your enchanting green eyes.”
Mary saw the smile on Adelaide’s face. Her remark about Mary’s looks was the latest in a slowly growing list of small kind ones Adelaide had been offering since they’d left Cambridge.
Mary nodded, then turned to look at another shelf of goods in the shop.
They were in High Street, Edinburgh, along the Royal Mile, undertaking a morning of shopping before leaving on the last leg of their journey to Strathmore Castle.
Mary wasn’t particularly interested in shopping; the small number of coins in her possession had all been earmarked for living expenses. She could not risk spending money on non-essential items until she had managed to secure a regular group of students in need of her tutoring. Building that client base, however, would take time. And in the meantime, she still needed to pay rent and feed herself.
Still, it was good to be out of the travel coach. Three days from Cambridge to Edinburgh in even a spacious coach, such as the one hired by Charles Alexandre, had played havoc with her back and hips.
Hugh had not helped matters either, constantly asking her how she was to survive going forward. Making lists of people he would speak to on her behalf at the college to get her old living quarters back. Then a shorter list of people he would speak to if his first overtures failed. By the time he had finished mentioning yet again that his brother was the Duke of Strathmore and his brother-in-law the Duke of Mowbray, Mary had developed a headache which lasted two whole days.
She quietly chided herself. At least she wasn’t spending Christmas alone in the bedsit of a boarding house. Hugh and the Alexandres had no connection to her beyond mere friendship, and they were under no obligation to render her assistance. She should be grateful that they wanted to help at all.
“So where else do you have in mind to visit today?” asked Mary.
Adelaide shrugged. It was the first day she had let Charles take their son off her hands for more than an hour. Mary had noted that every so often, Adelaide would look down at her empty arms and sigh. She was missing her baby.
“We will be leaving early tomorrow for Strathmore Castle, so if you wish to walk the street at the bottom of Edinburgh Castle and wander into a few more shops, I can meet you back at the inn in time for supper. I have a private errand to undertake in the meantime; I have something to collect,” replied Adelaide.
Having never visited Scotland before, Mary was keen to take in a few more of the sights of the great city of Edinburgh. There was every chance she may not get the opportunity again.
With Adelaide off on her secret mission, Mary was surprised as to how quickly she welcomed the time alone. The one thing she did not welcome, however, was the biting wind which pierced her coat. Cambridge was cold in winter, but a thick scarf and her trusty red coat had seen her through the worst of the chilly days. Here in Scotland, her English attire failed against the onslaught of an icy Scottish breeze. Standing outside a drapery, peering in through the window, she hugged herself in an effort to stay warm.
“Stockings—that is what I need. Thick wool ones,” she muttered.
Hugh dropped the last of his Christmas gifts into his leather satchel and gave himself a silent cheer. “Ewan, Caroline, David, Mama, Great Aunt Maude, Adelaide, Charles, and William. Not that the baby will actually do anything with his gift, but it’s the thought that counts,” he said.
His Christmas shopping was complete. At the bottom of the satchel lay two other gifts. One was a special Christmas present for Mary, the other a small box.
It was the item inside the small box which had taken Hugh most of the morning to choose. He had thought to ask Adelaide’s opinion, but decided it was best if he kept his own counsel. He had already failed Mary enough times without adding the pressure of his family’s expectations to her worries.
When the time was right, he would speak to her.
Stepping out into High Street, he turned in the direction of the inn and began to walk. His morning had been a success. Apart from all the gifts, he had also bought two new bottles of black writing ink and some extra parchment. He had even remembered to get the small silk bags that Ewan had requested for giving coins to the castle staff on Handsel Monday.
He was quietly pleased with himself; for once he was organized for Christmas. He did, however, make a mental note to write out a long list once he got back to the inn—just in case he had stayed true to form and forgotten something of importance.
Crossing over High Street, he spied McNally’s sweet shop. His stomach rumbled at the thought of Scottish tablet, and he made a beeline for the front door.
“Hugh.”
A sudden voice from his right stirred him from his single-minded mission. Coming toward him was Mary, a small parcel tucked under her arm. He gave her a friendly greeting. “Hello.”
He nodded toward the parcel. “Anything exciting?”
She shook her head. “No. Just woolen stockings. I never realized Scotland would be this cold.”
As she neared, he could see she was holding the parcel close to herself, and her shoulders were scrunched up. A wave of pity swept over him the instant he realized Mary was shivering. He ached to pull her into his arms and protect her from the wind.
If she was suffering in the relative warmth of Edinburgh, Mary was in for a miserable time in the frigid climes of Strathmore Mountain. He smiled as a thought came to him. He now had the perfect opportunity to try and make up for some of his thoughtless behavior—to show Mary that she was indeed important to him.
“Did you by chance get an opportunity to go to Butlers with Adelaide?” he asked. Butlers in Edinburgh sold all manner of clothing, from hats and scarfs, through to greatcoats and boots, and everything in between.
“No. We passed it on the way through to some other shops and she pointed it out to me. They are by royal appointment to the king, are they not?” she replied.
“And the Duke of Strathmore,” he said.
The look of delighted surprise on her face made his heart beat a little faster.
Hugh offered Mary his arm. “Come. You cannot visit Edinburgh without setting foot inside Butlers, especially when you are a guest of one of its patrons.”
She took his arm and his heart soared. They had walked together through the university grounds over the years, but never once had he dared dream that he would be walking arm in arm with her in the middle of Edinburgh.
With her hand on his arm, he knew she was where she was meant to be. He nodded his greetings to other people as they headed back up the Royal Mile, all the while indulging in a pleasant fantasy that they were a married couple, and this was something they did every day.
The short walk to Butlers soon had Hugh’s mind racing with other ideas. He would buy Mary a pair of sensible wool-lined leather gloves. Yes, that would do. No. A thick scarf and gloves was what she needed. And a coat.
By the time the doorman at Butlers ushered them inside, Hugh had a plan firmly set in his mind. Mary would not feel the cold for one moment if he had anything to say about it.
As a nearby shop assistant made his way toward them, Hugh straightened his shoulders and turned to Mary.
“I am so sorry,” he said.
She scowled. “What for?”
“For being an ass. I forgot your Christmas present in Cambridge because I was too caught up in my concerns. And I wasn’t there for you whe
n you were asked to leave the university. It was selfish of me. So, I am begging your indulgence to allow me to make a small step toward the restitution of our friendship,” he said.
“Oh, Hugh,” she murmured.
The shop assistant stopped in front of them and bowed low. “Welcome to Butlers. How may I be of assistance to you today?”
Hugh turned and smiled at the man. “Good morning, I am Lord Hugh Radley, and this is my friend Miss Mary Gray. Miss Gray is staying with my family at Strathmore Castle for Christmas. As her wardrobe is more suited to the warmer climes of England, I was thinking she might need kitting out with a full Scottish wardrobe. What do you think?”
Mary’s mouth opened, but Hugh ignored her attempted protest.
The shop assistant held his hands together tightly; a nice Christmas commission would come from such a sale. “I could not agree more, my lord. May I suggest we begin with a pair of tackety half-boots to ensure Miss Gray has a sure footing in the snow, and then move on to the woolens section?”
“Perfect.”
Mary’s cheeks continued to burn until they finally left Butlers several hours later. In that time, Hugh had spent, in her opinion, an outrageous sum of money on a new wardrobe for her. Her second attempt at protesting over his extravagance was ignored by both Hugh and the shop assistant; they were too busy deciding on the color of the hat which was to go with her new coat.
But it was not just the amount of money Hugh had spent on her which had Mary’s heart racing. It was the brief and often light touches of his hand whenever he drew near. When he handed her a pair of kid leather gloves, she felt the heat of his fingers as they brushed against hers. She trembled at his touch.
When he reached out and tucked a wayward curl behind her ear after she had finished trying on a hat, Mary didn’t know where to look. A pair of piercing blue eyes met her gaze. The smile which accompanied them took her breath away.
Mistletoe and Kisses Page 3
