Moonlight And Mistletoe

by Louise Allen

  ‘That must be it,’ she said lightly. ‘I have no sensibility.’

  ‘You must come to dinner at the Hall,’ Sarah said. ‘Lewis can tell you all the stories.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Hester responded with every appearance of delight and a sinking feeling at the thought of learning any more disturbing tales. She was finding Miss Nugent far less sympathetic than her charming brother. ‘If you will excuse me, I must just speak to Mrs Piper-’

  She broke off as the door opened and Mrs Bunting’s footman announced, ‘Lord Buckland, ma’am.’

  He strode into the room, a startling contrast with his height and his breeches and boots amidst the feminine gathering. You must excuse me, Mrs Bunting, but I need to find Miss Lattimer.’

  Hester was conscious of every eye in the room turning to her and of a turmoil of emotions pouring through her. Embarrassment at being singled out by Guy, a hard jolt of physical excitement at the sight of him, alarm at what this sudden arrival might portend.

  ‘Your man Ackland has had a fall,’ he said tersely. ‘Your maid had the sense to run across to my house and seek help. Parrott has sent for the doctor. Will you come?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Mrs Bunting…’

  ‘Off you go, my dear,’ her hostess urged. ‘Let me know if there is anything I can do.’

  Hester found herself outside the vicarage, her pelisse half- buttoned and Miss Prudhome chattering anxiously at her side. Guy’s curricle with the greys in harness was at the gate, the groom at their heads. ‘Cuttle, see Miss Prudhome safely home, please.’ Guy handed Hester up and with a flick of the reins sent the greys away at a canter from a standing start.

  Hester clutched the side of the seat with one hand, her bonnet with the other. ‘How badly hurt is he?’ She was aware, under her anxiety, of the skill with which Guy was handling the team along the twisting lane; the sight of his hands, strong and competent on the reins, was curiously comforting.

  ‘I do not know. He was conscious, but his right shoulder seemed to be giving him a lot of pain. That’s a long flight of stairs to go down and he fell from halfway.’

  ‘Do you mean the stairs in the house-?’ Hester broke off as Guy urged the greys round the last bend and they burst out on to the road around the Green. ‘But Jethro isn’t clumsy, how did he fall?’

  ‘He slipped on something that had been left on the middle step,’ Guy said. ‘Look, that must be the doctor’s gig.’

  Hester scrambled down before Guy could reach her and ran up the garden path and through the front door.

  The hail was empty save for a broken ewer on the marble and one dead rose. The remains of the bunch were scattered, crushed, down the staircase, marking Jethro’s tumbling fall.

  ‘These roses have developed a much more dangerous character,’ Guy said quietly behind her. ‘1 want you out of this house now.’

  ‘I will not go,’ Hester said equally quietly and found herself spun round to face Guy. He held her still, one hand cupping each shoulder.

  ‘You are placing yourself, and your household, at risk.’ The temptation to take a step forward, to lean into his sheltering, strong body was so overwhelming that Hester found herself swaying. ‘You are not going to faint now, Hester.’

  ‘I have no intention of fainting,’ she retorted, jerking herself free of his hands and swinging round. ‘Susan!’ She turned back at the foot of the stairs. ‘I want to see Jethro and I want to find out what is going on here. No one is going to drive me out of my home, my lord, and that includes you.’

  ‘Here, Miss Hester.’ Susan appeared at the top of the stairs. ‘We’ve put him in the spare bedroom. Mind those roses, do,’ she added as Hester gathered up her skirts and began to run up the stairs.

  ‘Please can you pick them up, Susan?’ She reached the top of the stairs, Guy at her heels. She could hardly turn him out now, but his presence was unsettling; it was hard to be close to someone into whose arms one longed to be gathered when one dare not trust their motives an inch.

  Jethro was stretched out on the spare bed, looking frighteningly young and white. But he was conscious and in full possession of his faculties as his continuing argument with the doctor demonstrated.

  ‘I can’t lie here! I am quite fit to get up, sir, Miss Hester needs me.’

  ‘Miss Hester needs you to get well. Ah, you must be Miss Lattimer. Doctor Forrest at your service, ma’am. I am sorry we could not be introduced under happier circumstances, but this young man will be up and around in a week if he does as he is told and rests.’

  ‘He will do that, I can assure you.’ Hester smiled, switching to a severe look at Jethro, who had opened his mouth to protest. ‘Doctor, may I introduce Lord Buckland, who was kind enough to fetch me here.’

  She left the men exchanging courtesies and went to kneel by the bed. ‘Jethro, does it hurt very much? Is your shoulder broken?’ His right arm was swathed in a sling with bandaging right across his chest and shoulder.

  ‘No, Miss Hester, the doctor says I dislocated it and I’ve wrenched the muscles and tendons. Hardly aches at all; I can get up.’

  He was sheet-white under his freckles and Hester could see his left hand clenched to resist the pain. ‘You will stay exactly where you are and do what the doctor orders,’ she said, smoothing back his tumbled hair gently.

  ‘But how’ll you manage, Miss Hester?’

  ‘Really, Jethro,’ Hester said in rallying tones. ‘As if three able-bodied women can’t manage a little house for a week!’

  ‘I’ll send a footman over, Ackland,’ Guy said from behind Hester. ‘No, don’t starch up on me, young man-he can take his orders from you.’

  Jethro subsided just as a patter of footsteps on the stairs heralded the arrival of Miss Prudhome. Hester’s heart sank, but to her surprise her companion came in, surveyed the sickroom with a competent eye and announced, ‘You need more comfortable pillows, Jethro, and some lemon barley water. Now you just leave him with me, Hester, I am very used to sickroom nursing.’

  Somehow Hester and Guy found themselves outside the room while Miss Prudhome interviewed the doctor. ‘What has come over your companion?’ Guy regarded the door panels that had been firmly shut in his face with some incredulity. ‘She wouldn’t say boo to a goose and now…’

  ‘Now she thinks she is back being a governess again. Doubtless she has seen numerous small boys through measles and broken limbs; Jethro is just going to have to resign himself to being treated as though he is seven again.’

  Guy gave a snort of amusement, tucked Hester’s hand under his arm and headed for the stairs. ‘I think we had better talk to Susan about exactly what occurred.’

  ‘I will most certainly do that, but you, my lord, need trouble yourself no further. I am very grateful for your assistance and for fetching me so promptly, but I can manage now.’ She tugged, but her hand stayed firmly captured. ‘My lord!’

  ‘Guy. And if you think I am going to walk away and leave you in a house where someone can obviously gain admittance at any hour of the day and night and where a member of your staff has had a very lucky escape from breaking his neck, then you have obviously formed a most faulty idea of my character in the course of our short acquaintance.’

  Hester decided that to struggle would only result in an undignified tussle and allowed herself to be steered into the kitchen where Susan was just thrusting the remains of the roses on to the fire. ‘There was just twelve of them, Miss Hester,’ she observed. ‘Fourteen last time.’ She hefted the kettle off the range and put it under the pump. ‘I’ll make tea, shall I?’

  ‘Yes, please, and can you run upstairs and see if Dr Forrest would like some?’

  But the doctor was already in the hall and Hester went out to shake his hand and enquire if there was anything she needed to do for Jethro.

  ‘No, nothing at all, ma’am, beyond the instructions I have given to Miss Prudhome. A most capable lady, she knows just what to do. Good day to you, ma’am, my lord.’

  ‘I wil
l take my leave of you too.’ Guy gathered up his hat and gloves. ‘I will send the youngest footman, which might help Jethro swallow his chagrin.’

  ‘Thank you, my lord, but we can manage perfectly well, I assure you, and I will not need your footman. I would, however, be grateful if one of your grooms could look after my cob, if that would not be too much trouble.’

  ‘You should not be unguarded at night. I will send a man over and he can sleep on a truckle bed in Ackland’s room- I assume you will be keeping him in the house for the moment?’

  ‘I will indeed, and I repeat, my lord, I do not need assistance, although naturally I appreciate your concern.’

  ‘Hester, you will appreciate rather more than my concern if you do not stop this stubbornness.’ He put his hands on her shoulders before she realised what he was doing. ‘I do not know whether to shake you or…’

  ‘Or what?’ Hester looked warily into his narrowed eyes, trying to ignore the flutterings that the feel of his hands on her sent through her body.

  ‘Or give into the very strong temptation to kiss you until you give in,’ he replied grimly.

  ‘Miss Lattimer?’ The front door swung open and Mrs Redland swept through.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Hester felt ready to sink. Of all the people in Winterbourne St Swithin to have discovered her virtually in the embrace of the Earl of Buckland, it had to be Mrs Redland.

  She had reckoned without Guy’s considerable address. ‘Ma’am, you are just the person to assist me,’ he said warmly.

  ‘I am?’ Mrs Redland looked sharply from Hester’s rosy cheeks to Guy, who had only that moment dropped his hands from her shoulders.

  ‘Miss Lattimer, who is understandably distressed over the injury to her only male member of staff, was just refusing my offer to lend her a footman. I am sure you will agree with my anxiety that a household of ladies should not be without able- bodied male support.’

  ‘Well…’ Mrs Redland met Hester’s imploring gaze and hesitated. Hester nodded meaningfully at Guy’s back, then shook her head vehemently. Mrs Redland had obviously not forgotten their conversation earlier that day.

  ‘That is a most generous suggestion, my lord. However, I cannot but feel that such an offer, whilst meant with the most chivalrous of intentions, might be misinterpreted in some quarters. A single lady, especially one of Miss Lattimer’s years, cannot he too careful.’

  Hester smiled at Mrs Redland, then rapidly composed her face when Guy swung round to look at her.

  ‘Very well, Miss Lattimer, it appears I am overruled by wiser counsel. I will send a groom over daily to attend to your cob. Please feel free at any time to call upon my household for assistance; you have only to speak to my butler. Good day, Miss Lattimer, Mrs Redland.’

  ‘Tsk!’ Mrs Redland regarded the door, which his lordship had most carefully refrained from slamming, with some amusement. ‘Not a gentleman used to encountering opposition to his will, that is obvious.’ She allowed herself to be ushered through to the drawing room, but refused the offer of a seat. ‘No, my dear, I merely called to enquire if there was anything I could do to help.’

  ‘Thank you, ma’am, that is most kind. It is all very worrying.’ Hester could not now believe that Mrs Redland had overheard anything compromising. ‘However, the doctor has been most helpful and Miss Prudhome has extensive sickroom experience.’

  ‘Very well, I will take my leave, but do let me know if there is anything I can do to assist or if, now Miss Prudhome has other calls upon her time, you require a chaperon.’ She paused as Hester was opening the front door for her. ‘I am sure his lordship’s intentions are merely to be attentive and of use as a neighbour, but I commend your reticence, Miss Lattimer.’

  More than a little relieved, Hester made her way back to the kitchen. What a narrow escape!

  ‘There you are.’ Guy was sitting at the kitchen table, a steaming mug of tea in his hands. He stood up as Hester entered and the look he exchanged with Susan was not lost upon her.

  ‘I’ll just see if Miss Prudhome needs any help.’ The maid bustled self-consciously out of the door, wiping her hands on her apron as she went.

  ‘I will thank you not to conspire with my servants behind my back, my lord!’ She felt so angry that it was difficult to control her voice.

  ‘I merely remarked to her that I wanted an opportunity for a word in private.’ Guy gestured to the chair opposite. ‘Will you not sit down? This is an excellent cup of tea and I am anxious to finish it.’

  Hester sat down with some emphasis. ‘Far be it from me to disoblige you, my lord. Please finish your tea at your leisure; I cannot imagine that we have anything else to discuss.’

  The mug was grounded with enough force to splash tea on the scrubbed pine. ‘Why do you not trust me, Hester?’

  ‘Because someone is trying to frighten me out of this house and you are the only person with a motive for doing so.’

  ‘You obviously never studied logic-I am the only person whose motives you are aware of. That does not mean that I am therefore the culprit.’

  ‘Since society opposes scholarship for women, you are correct that I am untutored in logic. However, I have enough native wit to know when someone is hiding something. You will not tell me why you want the Moon House: you cannot therefore complain that I am suspicious of you. Tell me why you want my house and you may find I trust you.’

  Guy ran one long-fingered hand over his mouth and chin, then shook his head decisively. ‘It is not just my story to tell you.’

  Hester shrugged. ‘Then we have a stalemate.’

  ‘Do you seriously think I would harm you?’ That expressive hand reached across the table and captured hers. ‘Do you?’

  ‘No.’ She found she believed it. Her hand lay passive under his, then turned, seemingly of its own volition, until their fingers interlaced. ‘And neither do I think you, or anyone else, are tiptoeing about this house depositing roses personally. I am sure whoever is behind this is employing some agent and on this occasion they must have been frightened, put down the roses and left. It was pure accident that Jethro did not see them.’

  ‘He could have broken his neck.’

  Hester shivered at the thought. ‘And so could any of us if Susan had not cleaned the flags in here thoroughly after spilling a pan of greasy cooking the other day. Accidents happen, my lord, and I would be foolish indeed if I trust everyone who appears well intentioned and friendly.’

  ‘Then at least promise me you will take care.’ He let go of her hand and she stifled a little murmur of protest.

  ‘I can certainly promise you that. And I have had all the locks changed and the window catches checked. Whoever thinks they can come and go as they please will soon find they are mistaken.’

  ‘If that is how they have been entering. They got in today, did they not?’ Guy put down his empty mug and stood up, looking down at her with sombre eyes. ‘Somehow I do not think you are dealing with someone who comes and goes by the front door, or even by a window.’

  ‘Then you believe this to be a ghost story?’ Hester laughed, wishing she felt as confident as she sounded. ‘I could almost suspect you of reading Gothic novels, my lord.’

  He was at the back door, but swung round with some irritation. ‘No, I have not, Miss Lattimer, but I could wish that you had, they might produce some healthy fear in you. And for heaven’s sake, stop calling me “my lord” in every other sentence. You sound like a simpering miss at Almack’s.’

  ‘As I have never had the good fortune to attend Almack’s, my lord, I would not know how young ladies there sound. I have had to make my own way in the world and perhaps that has made me somewhat more independent than gentlemen like.’

  His brows rose. ‘I have no objection to your independence, Hester, I just wish it did not give you this foolhardy confidence.’

  ‘I thought you were upset that I do not trust you?’ she jibed, now thoroughly nettled. ‘You should congratulate me on retaining a caution abo
ut anyone whom I have known for such a short time.’

  ‘I see there is no reasoning with you. Good day, Miss Lattimer.’

  ‘Good day, my lord.’ The door shut behind him and she watched through the window as he strode across the yard to the gate. ‘Guy.’

  Five minutes later she realised she was still sitting at the kitchen table, staring into space. ‘For goodness’ sake, pull yourself together, Hester!’ she exclaimed. ‘You wanted him to keep a proper distance, that at least is now assured!’ This should have been a comfort, but somehow her anxiously sought respectability and acceptance in the community seemed a hollow ambition now.

  Hester got to her feet and took herself upstairs to see how Jethro did. Halfway across the landing she stopped, turned and ran downstairs to lock the back door, knowing as she did so that it was probably a futile gesture.

  Thursday dawned bright and clear as Miss Prudhome announced when she met Susan and Hester in the kitchen. ‘Lovely and sunny, despite all that rain last night.’

  ‘Which is more than can be said for us,’ Susan observed, banging down a coffee pot on the tray destined for Jethro’s room. ‘I didn’t get a wink of sleep, and I dare say you didn’t, either, Miss Hester-not judging by those dark circles under your eyes.’

  ‘I am sorry,’ Maria apologised, with a return to her old fluttering nervousness. ‘I did try and creep about, but Jethro was very uncomfortable and needed a lot of attention.’

  ‘It wasn’t you, Miss Maria.’ Susan seized the carving knife and attacked the ham as though it had done her a personal injury. ‘It’s not knowing when that creature will get back in the house again. Pass me the butter, would you, Miss Hester?’

  Hester pushed the crock across the table. It had not just been nervousness that had interrupted her sleep. Endless fantasising about exactly how she should have dealt with Guy the day before had not helped either. ‘At least anyone outside would have seen Maria’s candle moving from room to room upstairs and would have known they would be heard if they attempted to enter.’ She tried, and failed, to stifle a cracking yawn. ‘Oh dear, I think we should take it in turns to have a nap today. Until Jethro is better and we have seen the last of these strange incidents, I fear none of us will sleep well at night.’