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

by Carla Kelly

  ‘Are you sure you know what you are doing?’

  ‘Of course. Just hold still, I’ll snip it here. And there you are.’ She held up a perfect bow with long streamers. ‘Let’s fix it.’

  ‘I’ll do it, it is raw cold out there.’

  Maddie took his hands in hers when he shut the door again. ‘Ooh, you are frozen. Let me rub them. Is that better? I am so glad you came to rescue us.’ She put her head to one side and regarded him, rather like a kitten uncertain which end of a piece of string to pounce on. ‘I don’t suppose you would really like to marry Ellie, would you? Only I think you would make a most superior brother-in-law.’

  Chapter Five

  Marry Ellie. The words hung in the air between them. ‘I’m just a poor soldier,’ Drew said lightly, a fraction of a second late.

  ‘Well, Ellie has lots of money,’ Maddie said. ‘Papa left her so much because he felt guilty about you know what.’ Her expression hardened and she released his hands. ‘But perhaps you mind about that.’

  ‘No. It was not her fault, was it?’

  Tell that to society. Tell that to Lord Chamberlain when Viscount Ravencroft wants to have his wife presented at Court.

  ‘It makes no matter to me,’ he said honestly.

  It’s the rest of them that’s the problem.

  ‘Well, then?’

  ‘One, your sister does not want to marry me. Two, I am her employee. Three, I am not a fortune hunter.’

  ‘Mr Harrington last year was. Ellie got quite fond of him, I think, and then we discovered he had proposed to two other ladies within the previous month and their trustees had turned him down. He was quite desperate, Mr Ague said. I suppose it would wound your pride to be thought such a one.’

  ‘Of course it would, but you forget points one and two.’

  Poor Eleanor. No wonder she is so fierce on the subject.

  ‘Two is neither here nor there.’ Maddie picked up the ribbon she had dropped and began to fashion another bow, her gaze sliding sideways to watch for his reaction.

  ‘But point one is. And I didn’t mention point four, which is that, as charming as she is, I do not wish to wed Eleanor. I have things to be doing come January and they do not include marriage.’

  ‘If this was a Christmas fairy story, you would be a prince in disguise, sent to rescue Ellie from the dragon—or in her case, withering into spinsterhood.’

  ‘Well, I am not a prince.’

  Maddie stuck out her lower lip mutinously, then reached up and pinned the bow she had just made on his shirt front.

  ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Oh, did the pin stick in?’ she asked, all wide-eyed innocence. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Hussy,’ Drew said mildly, removing the mass of gold ribbons.

  ‘I don’t suppose you are a frog, either, are you?’ Maddie said and took herself back upstairs.

  ‘Did I just hear Maddie asking if you are a reptile?’ Theo moved down a step and started on a new section.

  ‘Amphibian,’ Drew corrected absently. ‘I’ll put fir branches around the newel post.’

  * * *

  Ellie closed the drawing-room door and leaned against it. She was not sure what she was holding back—a passion-inflamed Drew or her own impulse to rush back and throw herself into his arms again.

  Only he wasn’t inflamed with passion, was he? she told herself. He was simply trying to deal calmly with a woman who was overreacting to a fright. It is not his fault that he is making me feel positively...wanton.

  And it had to be desire, nothing more. She knew perfectly well that she had no choice as far as marriage was concerned. With her money she must be constantly alert for fortune hunters and because of her birth she needed to merge into the background so as not to spoil the twins’ chances when they made their come-out.

  And besides, he is not interested in marriage, so why am I even thinking about it?

  Occasionally she caught Drew looking at her with something like warmth in his expression, but that was either typical male assessment of anything female and passable-looking or he was practising playing the betrothed man. She was the foolish one with the daydreams that she should have grown out of long ago. Look what had happened with George Harrington. She hadn’t been in love with him, but she had liked him and enjoyed his company and had believed his protestations of affection. His deceit hurt.

  Ellie dumped her load of pine cones on the table and tried to focus on the swag she had constructed across the mantelpiece. She must be very careful not to embarrass Drew, who thought he had taken on a purely business proposition. It wasn’t his fault that close proximity to a pair of broad shoulders, an easy air of command and a pair of compelling grey eyes were making her...yearn.

  * * *

  ‘When should we expect your guests?’ Drew passed Ellie the toast. ‘It feels remarkably like the morning before a battle to me, I have to say. We’ve polished our weapons, we’ve scouted the battlefield and now all we can do is sit and wait in full battle array.’

  He does look rather splendid, she thought wistfully.

  Drew’s uniform was brushed and pressed, his shave immaculately close. ‘They’ll be here late afternoon, I expect,’ she said, fixing her attention on the marmalade. ‘Uncle Tal will have come down from Cambridge on the Mail yesterday, but he stays the night with an old friend. Uncle Gregory’s estate is in Hertfordshire and he will have hired a post chaise to bring them.’

  ‘I’ve got to finish that letter to Tompkins,’ Theo said. ‘I’ve completed the theorem we were working on together and I might as well get it off to him today. I don’t imagine I’ll be able to get anything done once Uncle Gregory is here. I’ll be too busy making manly conversation with Drew about trajectories and bare-knuckle fighting, I suppose.’

  ‘I have to finish wrapping presents,’ Claire said, getting to her feet. She went out, Theo and Drew settled back in their seats and then got to their feet again as she came back. ‘Oh, don’t keep standing up—I just wondered where the mistletoe has been put. At home in the country it is always in the hall.’

  ‘Mistletoe? I haven’t seen any. Did you forget to buy some, Drew?’

  ‘No, I found a magnificent large spray. Theo?’

  ‘Oh, blast.’ Theo looked up from where he was scribbling an equation on his table napkin, a habit Ellie had utterly failed to break him of. ‘I put it in the wine cellar to keep cool so the berries didn’t fall off.’

  ‘We’ve got plenty of time,’ Drew said. ‘I’ll hang it after breakfast. Where do you want it?’

  ‘In the hall would be best. But it is a very high ceiling.’

  ‘We’ll manage.’ He smiled at her, reassuring and competent and not at all flirtatious. So why did her toes curl?

  * * *

  They trooped out half an hour later and stood in the middle of the chequered marble floor, looking up.

  Drew pointed ‘There’s a hook that must once have held a lantern. That will do.’

  ‘It is a good fourteen feet and we only have ladders to lean against the wall, not the A-shaped ones to stand in the middle of the floor.’

  ‘Not a problem. If you get the mistletoe, Theo, and someone can find me the string, we’ll have it fixed in no time. Do we want ribbons as well?’

  ‘Of course,’ Claire said. ‘The silver satin ones.’

  Drew made no effort to find something to climb on, Ellie noticed. Instead he removed his uniform jacket, stripped off his stock and rolled up his sleeves.

  Theo emerged from the door down to the basement with a large bunch of mistletoe and handed it to the twins who began bickering amicably about how big a bow was needed and what length the streamers should be.

  ‘How are we going to get it up there?’ Theo asked.

  ‘Take off your boots and coat, then sit on my shoulders. When I stand you’ll be able to
reach the hook.’ Drew took a sturdy chair and set it beside him and went down on one knee. ‘Is the mistletoe ready?’

  The twins held up the decorated bunch, their mouths slightly ajar at the sight of two males in the front hall stripped to their shirts. Theo at least had his waistcoat on, but Drew’s braces, holding up his tight uniform trousers, were not something a young lady saw every day of the week.

  If at all, Ellie thought distractedly, wondering if she should make the girls go into the drawing room.

  Then Theo slung his leg over Drew’s shoulders and settled there, feet dangling in front, his hands on his head. ‘Are you sure about this? I’m not exactly a lightweight.’

  ‘That is very true. Lord knows what your sister feeds you,’ Drew said. ‘Just sit still and let go of my ears.’

  Ellie could see his ribcage expand as he took a deep breath, and another. And then he stood, levering himself up with one hand on the chair, staggering a little until he got both feet planted. ‘Right. Give him the mistletoe.’

  Ellie was standing behind him, her back to the front door, her gaze riveted on Drew’s back. Broad shoulders were braced under Theo’s weight and the drag of her brother’s legs pulled the shirt tight so that she could see a hint of the muscles taut beneath, follow the strong masculine taper to his waist. The uniform trousers were snug over his buttocks and clung to the firm horseman’s thighs.

  Magnificent.

  For a second she thought she had said it aloud, revealing to her siblings and the staff who had come crowding into the hall to watch the show that she was ogling a man’s backside. But if she had, the whisper had been lost in Theo’s breathless instructions.

  ‘Left a bit, can you? A bit more. This confounded hook’s bent. If I can just—There!’

  As he spoke there was a resounding knock on the front door behind her. Ellie jumped and Hobson hurried forward, sliding himself cautiously around Drew. ‘I will say you aren’t at home, Miss Jordan,’ he murmured as he passed her.

  She turned to watch as he eased the door ajar, then stepped back abruptly as it was pushed wide open.

  ‘For goodness sake, man. Is this any way to answer the door? We are catching our deaths of cold out here.’

  Uncle Gregory at ten in the morning?

  Behind her Drew spoke, sharp and urgent. ‘Sit still, you idiot!’

  The swinging door and a sudden press of bodies sent Ellie stumbling forward into Drew. Someone swore, then she was in the midst of tumbling, twisting bodies and landed with a shriek on something firm, warm and definitely human.

  * * *

  The back of Drew’s head hit the rug with a thump, reminding him, as if he needed to know, that there was solid marble underneath. Somehow he had managed to twist so that they had fallen away from the solid hall chair. Theo’s heel had raked down his chest as the lad had fallen and Drew’s shirt was ripped completely open. He hoped vaguely that was all that had ripped. The scars from his encounter with the French lancer in June were healed, but there had been a few moments as he was lifting Theo when he could feel the sensation of the spear point pulling out of his flesh all over again.

  No one was screaming about blood in all the mayhem that was echoing around his spinning head, so he supposed he was still in one piece. Not all the sensations were unpleasant. There was a soft female form draped over his legs and something tickling his bare stomach. He raised his chin and squinted down at the top of Eleanor’s head. His body eagerly pounced on a distraction from pain, as keen as Theo with a mathematical equation to solve.

  This one went bare skin + warm female + lying down = take all my clothes off.

  Minus enraged relatives = pull yourself together, he corrected himself at the sound of the male voice above him.

  Eleanor scrambled up, her elbow fetching him a sharp blow that, thankfully, dealt with any embarrassing consequences of erotic calculation.

  ‘Drew, are you hurt?’ She was staring, aghast, at his torso.

  He heaved himself into a sitting position. ‘No. Those are a souvenir of Waterloo, that’s all.’ He looked round. ‘Theo?’

  The lad was sitting up, too, white in the face and clutching his left wrist. Drew got up, ignoring his thumping head and protesting midriff, and went to crouch down to shield him.

  ‘Let me see. Anything hurt beside your wrist?’

  ‘No.’ Theo looked up, past Drew. ‘Don’t fuss, Ellie.’

  ‘What is going on here? Is this a madhouse?’ The enraged male voice was still ranting on, with a counterpoint of female twittering and another man making soothing noises.

  ‘I’m worried that Theo has broken his wrist, Uncle Gregory,’ Eleanor said.

  Drew was between Theo and the door and he could see his fingers moving. Perfect. He leaned close and whispered, ‘Follow my lead.’ Then louder, ‘I think you are right. Claire, pass me your shawl, would you please?’

  He flipped it around Theo, made a sling and put his arm inside, then pulled him to his feet by his good arm, pinching the soft skin near his armpit as he did so. Theo’s yelp of pain was perfect. ‘Bear up, lad. Can’t be more than a simple fracture.’

  ‘Hobson, send for the doctor.’ Ellie was at their side as he helped Theo towards the stairs.

  ‘No need. I’ve plenty of experience setting breaks like this, darling.’

  She gave him a startled look at the endearment and he winked. Eleanor opened her mouth, closed it, shot her brother a quick glance, then nodded. ‘Very well, if you think best, Drew. I will be up in a second.’

  He heard her as they climbed the stairs with exaggerated slowness. ‘Claire, Maddie, take your aunt and uncles into the drawing room. Hobson, the tea tray at once. I’m so sorry, everyone. What a welcome—but I’ll be back shortly...’

  ‘What on earth?’ Theo demanded in a furious undertone as they followed one of the footmen to his bedchamber.

  ‘Wait for your sister.’ Drew guided him through the door and turned to the footman. ‘Hot water, bandages, something to make a splint, laudanum. Wintergreen ointment if your housekeeper has it.’

  Eleanor came through the door as the footman hurried off. ‘What is going on? Has Theo broken his wrist or not?’

  ‘Mild sprain, I’d say. Wiggle your fingers, bend it back—that hurts? Side to side, bend it that way. Yes, sprained. Pity, because a broken wrist takes a while to heal. No climbing rigging with a healing break. No climbing rigging at all if it is permanently weak and, unfortunately, they so often are.’

  ‘You... My goodness, that was quick thinking. But I do not like to lie to my uncle,’ she added, biting her lip.

  ‘No one need lie to anyone. It will not be our fault if he leaps to the wrong conclusion. Although a broken wrist is neither here nor there alongside the major untruth of our betrothal, is it?’

  ‘Oh, dear. You are quite right.’ She looked so downcast that Drew almost put his arm around her.

  And who would that comfort? Not Eleanor to whom you are nothing but a means to an end. Only you, his conscience said severely. You are beginning to wish this was no deception. Pull yourself together.

  ‘If you go down now, I will follow directly. Prepare to disagree with what I say, but give way in the face of my superior masculine reasoning.’

  Eleanor pulled a face at him, but the footman returned before she could make a retort. ‘Peter. Please gather up the Captain’s clothing and find him a new shirt. I will see you downstairs. And, Theo, you are to rest.’ She did not quite slam the door behind her, but it was a near-run thing.

  Drew dismissed the footman and studied Theo’s arm. ‘You are right-handed, aren’t you?’

  ‘Yes. The left being strapped up won’t be a problem.’

  ‘Excellent.’ Drew slit the shirt sleeve, then began to strap the wrist into a splint. ‘It hurts a lot, remember. Your instinct is to allow your sister to mollycoddle you, but y
ou are going to respond to my bracing treatment and act as though it is no more than a sprain. However, when you think you are being watched, see if you can manage a wince or two or an expression of stoical suffering. Play it down, it will be more effective. There. Now, let’s get you into your coat—I’ll cut the seam up from the cuff buttons a little—and here’s a better sling than your sister’s shawl. Practise looking pale and interesting and come down in about ten minutes. All right?’

  Chapter Six

  ‘And just who is this half-naked man? I would like to know.’ Uncle Gregory paced back and forth on the rug before the fireplace while Aunt Dorothea nodded energetically and Uncle Tal made vaguely soothing noises.

  ‘Captain Drew Padgett, of the artillery. We are betrothed. And he is normally perfectly decently clothed,’ Ellie said. ‘That was just in order for them to hang the mistletoe.’

  ‘Betrothed? Since when, might I ask?’ her aunt demanded.

  ‘The day before yesterday. Captain Padgett proposed then. I have known him for some time.’

  ‘Some time? But who is he? The man may be a complete fortune hunter.’

  ‘Mr Ague has investigated him,’ Ellie said, exaggerating somewhat. ‘That is where we met, when I was visiting Mr Ague. Captain Padgett was calling on his solicitor in respect of an inheritance.’

  ‘Ah, well. Ague is sound, very sound,’ Uncle Gregory conceded.

  ‘And Captain Padgett saved me from a nasty accident when a wagon went out of control as I was crossing Fleet Street,’ Ellie added. ‘And he is so good with Theo. Being an artillery officer he understands mathematical principles far better than any of us.’ She cast an anxious look at the ceiling above. ‘I do hope Theo is all right. Captain Padgett does seem to expect him to be as...as...’

  ‘Manly as he is,’ Maddie supplied. ‘Captain Padgett is very much the gentleman and the officer.’

  At which point Drew opened the door and came in. Maddie blushed and Ellie could only hope no one else saw his eyelid drop in the hint of a wink.

  ‘Aunt Dorothea, Uncle Gregory, Uncle Tal, may I present Captain Drew Padgett. Drew, this is Lady Wilmott and Sir Gregory Wilmott and Dr Talbot Jenkins, Fellow of Cambridge University.’