Convenient Christmas Brides: The Captain's Christmas Journey ; The Viscount's Yuletide Betrothal ; One Night Under the Mistletoe

by Carla Kelly

Mr Ague cleared his throat, stared at the Captain over the lenses and made a note.

  Ellie felt like fanning herself. That voice. Deep and amused and not remotely salacious as every other applicant had sounded. He was a genuine officer, she was sure. Anyone could buy a second-hand uniform from some clothes stall, but the one before her had become faded and patched on the back of this man. The cuffs ended at the right place above those capable hands, the shoulders of the jacket sat perfectly on shoulders that were, themselves...perfect. It was a trifle loose, to be sure, but he had lost weight recently, she thought, striving to think with her brain and not with parts of her that were normally well under control. The parts that forgot she was not a responsible, ineligible spinster and had ridiculous dreams and fantasies whenever she was foolish enough to let them slip the leash.

  ‘Curiosity?’ Mr Ague probed.

  ‘It is an unusual advertisement, you must agree. A friend of mine placed interpretations upon it that I will not mention in the presence of a lady.’ He gave no other indication that he had seen her in her corner. ‘I, however, thought it likely to be more in the way of a cry for help. I am at a loose end over Christmas and I would welcome the full board and lodging, and the promised payment.’

  ‘I see.’

  It was more than Ellie did. A cry for help? It was certainly that, because if this did not work then she was in despair about what to do to save Theo.

  ‘And have you references?’

  ‘I am staying at Albany with a friend, Lord Burnham. He would provide you with a character reference and you have my word that I will not reveal any details of this matter to him, or anyone else, come to that. If you require other assurances I am afraid I can offer none. I am a serving officer and I have no desire to display the fact that I am engaged in...in whatever this proves to be.’

  ‘So the name you have given us is false?’

  ‘In part.’ He was very relaxed, very confident in a reassuring way, as though if a group of armed desperadoes or an escaped tiger burst into the room he would deal with them without breaking a sweat and without spilling too much blood on the carpet in the process.

  Really, my imagination!

  It was that romantic, dreamy side of her again. Probably all army officers were like this. Tough, capable, confident. They couldn’t all be this darkly good-looking, though.

  ‘If you could give me some idea of exactly what is required?’

  Mr Ague sent her a quick glance. Ellie nodded.

  ‘The lady concerned needs a gentleman to act as her betrothed for a week. He will reside in her household along with the family and visiting relatives. He will need to be able to convince her uncle that he is sincere and respectable and also an excellent role model and mentor for a sixteen-year-old youth in need of masculine guidance.’

  That did make the Captain blink. ‘A wild young man?’

  ‘Certainly not,’ Ellie said before she could stop herself. ‘That is the problem.’

  Captain Padgett shifted in his chair and stopped the pretence that she was not in the room. He was close enough, and the light on the desk was strong enough, that she could see that his eyes were grey, his lashes black, like his hair. He watched her from under levelled brows. There were pale circles under his eyes as though he had been ill and his cheekbones stood out, giving his face with its strong jawline a craggy look.

  ‘My brother’s guardian, our uncle, thinks my brother is subject to too much feminine influence, that he needs toughening up. He is arranging a midshipman’s berth for Theo. That would be a disaster.’

  ‘He is sickly?’

  ‘Not at all. He is a perfectly healthy, active young man. He is also a brilliant mathematician, a scholar, and should be going to Cambridge, not into the Navy. In October, despite his age, he has a place at St John’s, thanks to his godfather. It would be a tragedy if he cannot take it.’

  ‘A good college for a mathematician.’ When she made an interrogative sound he added, ‘I am an artillery officer and we have to understand mathematics. So, you want a fiancé who will convince your uncle that he will be a strong masculine influence on your brother and that it will therefore be unnecessary to send him to sea to provide that. I can see a major flaw in this scheme—your fiancé is not going to be around for the wedding.’

  ‘Neither is my uncle. He is leaving the country with his wife on a diplomatic mission for over a year, hence his anxiety to see my brother settled before he leaves on December the twenty-seventh. By the time he realises that the wedding has not taken place he will not be able to stop Theo from entering university. After that we are counting on it being a fait accompli.’

  Captain Padgett studied his clasped hands. ‘Who else will be at this gathering?’

  ‘My two younger sisters, our widowed cousin who lives with us, my aunt and uncle and my brother’s godfather, also an uncle.’

  ‘There are two issues should you decide to trust me with this charade.’ The Captain cocked an eyebrow at Mr Ague. ‘We should both be protected by paperwork that will prevent a suit for breach of promise.’

  ‘Really, Captain.’ Ellie found she was on her feet. ‘Are you suggesting that this is some ruse to gain a husband?’

  ‘I do not know you from Eve, ma’am. You do not know me from Adam. What motives you may have I do not know and you certainly should not trust me blindly. I merely suggest doing the prudent thing.’

  ‘It does seem a sensible precaution,’ Mr Ague said, making a note.

  ‘The very fact that you raise the issue should indicate that you—’

  ‘It merely shows I have a suspicious mind. And as for my motives—if I was wanting to entrap you, then raising the issue in the hope you would react as you just have would be good tactics.’

  ‘Oh.’ She subsided back on to the chair. ‘What is the other issue?’

  ‘We are going to be living with a number of people who know you well and who will be watching us with close attention. Are you able to convince them that we are in love?’

  Chapter Two

  ‘In love?’ If she was not very careful the fact that she was in lust would be all too clear, Ellie realised. Love, though, that was a different matter.

  Captain Padgett had risen to his feet when she had jumped to hers. Now he approached her. ‘May I see your face?’

  Ellie hesitated, then put back her veil. Either she trusted him or she didn’t.

  ‘Will you take my hand?’ He held out his and she put hers on it, palm down. The long fingers closed over it. ‘Now may I kiss you?’

  Yes. ‘No!’

  He waited, his grip light but strong on her hand. ‘I meant, on the cheek.’

  ‘Very well.’ He was right. It would hardly be convincing that she had invited him to stay when she was too skittish to even allow a kiss on the cheek. Ellie managed a smile. There would be mistletoe...

  The Captain’s grey eyes seemed to darken as he closed the distance between them. She smelt wool, damp from the outside mists, plain soap, the faintest hint of cologne. And man. His lips, when they touched her cheek, were warm, his skin, lightly brushing her own, was still chill. Then he stepped back and she swallowed hard. That was as harmless as any of the kisses her male relatives gave casually in greeting, so why did her pulse race?

  A little voice in her head said, Stop this now. You will regret it.

  ‘I believe we will manage,’ Ellie found herself saying, with a coolness that startled her. ‘My name is Eleanor. Miss Jordan.’

  This was the man to help her, she was certain. Almost certain. But there is hardly any time left, almost is going to have to do.

  ‘And there is something that you should know about me, before we go any further. I am illegitimate. My brother and sisters were born within wedlock, however. My uncle will wish to make this clear to you. He is ashamed of the fact, I am not.’

  ‘Why shoul
d you be? It was hardly your fault.’ The Captain still held her hand.

  That was a novel reaction. Most people were embarrassed, or judgemental, in Ellie’s experience. ‘Our father was in the Navy. He should have been home long before I was born, but he was shipwrecked after a battle in the Baltic and arrived home a week after my birth.’

  ‘If he should raise the subject, I will assure your uncle that my affection for you overrides such considerations.’ His thumb was stroking back and forth across her knuckles. She should protest, but perhaps he was only intent on accustoming her to his touch. ‘I am not pretending to be a marquess, concerned about impeccable, legitimate bloodlines.’

  ‘Good, because my maternal grandfather was a coal merchant. You should also know, that in some compensation for my birth, my father left me with both a substantial trust fund and dower. My uncle sees that as useful in attracting a husband for me. I see it as bait for fortune hunters and have no intention of marrying such a man. I despise them. Uncle and I do not see eye to eye on this matter.’

  Mr Ague cleared his throat. ‘Er...yes. I am sure the Captain is now very clear on the situation, Miss Jordan. If you could wait outside, sir, while Miss Jordan and I consult?’

  ‘Certainly.’ He released her hand and went out, closing the door behind him.

  ‘You appear to have made up your mind, Miss Jordan.’ Mr Ague had the Peerage open on the desk and was flipping through it. ‘Lord Burnham does give a London address in Albany and I seem to recall seeing in the society pages that he is in town at present.’

  ‘I have decided, yes. I trust the Captain, which I am sure you will say is nothing more than unreliable feminine intuition, but he did not say any of the things someone trying too hard to convince me would say.’

  And he has laughing eyes and strong hands. And those are no reason at all to trust a man. ‘What should we do now?’

  ‘We should tell him to wait until I have a response from Lord Burnham and then I will discuss terms with him.’

  ‘I cannot afford delay. There are only four days before my aunt and uncle arrive.’

  ‘You will take the risk that the reference is a bluff?’ He removed his spectacles and polished them briskly on a spotted handkerchief. ‘As your legal adviser I should counsel against it.’

  ‘You trust him, too, don’t you?’ Ellie picked up the holly sprig from the inkwell, twisted it between her fingers and received a painful prick on the thumb for her trouble. ‘Ouch.’ She sucked the tiny bead of blood.

  I only hope that is not a bad omen.

  Mr Ague grimaced. ‘It is probably enough to have me disbarred from the profession, but, yes, strangely, I do.’ He picked up the bell and rang it. ‘Langridge, send in the Captain then give Miss Jordan a cup of tea and make sure the waiting room fire is made up before returning here to witness the agreement. You’ll be more comfortable outside,’ he added as the clerk held the door for her.

  I will not be embarrassed by any haggling, you mean, Ellie thought as she followed Langridge.

  A cup of tea would be welcome, though. Her mouth felt quite dry. Captain Padgett came to his feet the moment she appeared and she nodded her acknowledgement as coolly as possible. Probably any dashing man in uniform would be enough to make her pulse flutter, she thought as she settled by the fire. There were few enough men in her life, let alone handsome ones.

  * * *

  ‘You are satisfied with the amount offered?’ The solicitor appeared surprised by his easy acceptance.

  ‘Bed and board over Christmas and the amount you suggest seem perfectly acceptable. I have no wish to take advantage of a lady who has a problem.’ Drew scrawled his legal, perfectly illegible, signature on the paperwork. ‘Miss Jordan does not appear to be accompanied by a maid or a footman.’

  ‘We felt it best not to take her staff into our confidence. There is no reason to distrust any of them, but the fewer people who know this is a charade, the better.’

  ‘In that case I will escort her home.’

  ‘In a hackney carriage?’ Mr Ague sounded faintly scandalised.

  ‘I would like to walk and I would be glad of your escort, Captain,’ Miss Jordan said from the doorway.

  Was it her voice that had decided him to undertake this? There had been passion in her quick defence of her brother, intelligence in the clear way she explained the situation and what she needed and an openness that appealed to him. True, he had not been much in the company of unmarried ladies recently, but this one, Drew was certain, was out of the common. The comment about fortune hunters stung, though, hit a nerve. He needed an advantageous marriage.

  He pushed the thought away. That was not what he was considering now. Although there had been the softness of her cheek under his lips, the subtle, elusive, scent of her...

  Intriguing.

  They said their farewells to Mr Ague and Drew followed her out into the murk of the narrow lanes. A bewigged lawyer, black gown flapping, papers tied with pink tape under his arm, hurried past, the fog swirling in his wake, other figures loomed eerily out of passageways. Miss Jordan took his arm as they emerged on to Fleet Street.

  ‘Where to, ma’am?’

  ‘Hart Street, on the corner of Bloomsbury Square.’

  A respectable address and about a mile to walk through the chill and the fog. No shrinking violet, his employer. ‘Chancery Lane and across Lincoln’s Inn Fields, I would suggest.’ She nodded and he realised that she was above medium height, as the little plume on her bonnet brushed his cheek.

  They crossed Fleet Street and Miss Jordan laughed when a cart lurched off course and he swung her safely on to the kerb, skirts swinging. They were elegant skirts, simply cut.

  Good taste and comfortably off, he diagnosed. Better to think about clothes rather than how that slender waist had felt under his hands.

  Her eyes were green, her brows and lashes dark brown, so he suspected that her hair, concealed by her bonnet, was brown, too.

  ‘Captain—’

  ‘Call me Drew and, if I may, I will call you Eleanor. We should get into the habit, don’t you think?’

  He glanced down as she looked up, her lower lip caught between her teeth. It was a lovely full lip, far too good to be chewed on. Nibbled, perhaps...

  ‘I suppose so, Drew.’ She blushed a delicate shade of pink. ‘Is that short for Andrew?’ When he nodded she said, ‘My brother is Theo, my younger twin sisters are Madeleine—Maddie—and Claire. They are seventeen and will have their come-out next year. Do you have any siblings?’

  ‘I have no family at all. I am waiting for the estate of my last relative to be settled, which is why I am both at a loose end and, to be frank, somewhat short of ready cash.’ He moved to shield her when another group of lawyers engaged in loud argument swept down Chancery Lane taking up most of the pavement.

  ‘My uncle, the one for whose benefit we are doing this, is Sir Gregory Wilmott. He is a baronet and diplomat and married to my Aunt Dorothea, my father’s younger sister,’ she explained when they walked on. ‘I think Uncle Gregory would have liked to go to sea himself as a young man, but his eyesight is poor. Dr Talbot Jenkins—not a medical doctor—is Theo’s godfather. He is a Fellow at Cambridge and is most anxious that Theo takes up the place he has secured. There was no difficulty, despite Theo’s age, because he is clearly brilliant. But Dr Jenkins and my uncle do not see eye to eye about most things, which doesn’t help.’

  ‘I suppose Dr Jenkins is not a suitable role model for Theo?’

  Eleanor’s gurgle of laughter was delightful. He hated gigglers. ‘I suspect that when Uncle Tal was an undergraduate he took the fustiest, mustiest old don he could observe and has modelled himself on him for forty years.’

  ‘And your companion?’

  ‘Cousin Joan, the widow of the Reverend Henry Nutcombe. She is vague and sweet and not, perhaps, the most intelligent woman in
the world, but she is kind to the girls and lends me countenance.’

  ‘And she has failed to notice my courtship of you?’ he asked as they turned into Lincoln’s Inn Fields. A faint ray of late sunshine penetrated the murk, lighting up the vast green square.

  ‘Goodness, I hadn’t thought of that. How foolish of me.’

  ‘You are not used to schemes and deceptions,’ Drew suggested, intending to offer comfort.

  It earned him an unexpectedly shrewd upwards glance from beneath her bonnet brim. ‘And you are?’

  ‘Not of this sort. But army life is all about out-thinking and out-manoeuvring the enemy, so one becomes used to working through the details. Look, the sun is shining on that bench over there. If we sit down, perhaps we can tease out the knots now before we reach your house.’

  Drew unbuttoned his greatcoat and spread the skirts on the bench to give Eleanor a dry place to sit. It did bring her rather closer than propriety decreed, but he had no objection to feeling her warmth all down his right side or the occasional bump of her shoulder.

  ‘Where might we have met?’ he prompted when she had settled. ‘Have you been visiting Mr Ague much recently?’

  ‘The two Mr Agues, father and son, are the trustees for my money, so I do call quite often, especially recently because we have been discussing new investments.’

  ‘I have had a great deal to do with lawyers over this small inheritance of mine. We might easily have met near the Agues’ chambers and we can suggest as much without any outright lies. If we imply an acquaintance of at least three weeks, is that plausible? I have been courting you as I walk you home every time and I have just proposed. If I call tomorrow, you can introduce me to your family and invite me to stay over Christmas. Who else knows the truth?’

  ‘My sisters and Theo, that’s all. I agree, what you suggest is the best plan.’ She turned to smile at him, then froze, clearly finding herself rather closer to his body than she had realised. He could hardly move, not without tipping her off his coat, and he expected her to jump to her feet. But Eleanor stayed where she was, eyes wide, lips slightly parted.