Have Yourself a Merry Little Secret : a Christmas collection of historical romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 2)

by Collette Cameron

  “Then you had better call the local Justice of the Peace, Sir Cuthbert Addison, if Maurice is shooting at people, then he has clearly lost his marbles and should be locked up,” the doctor said, wrapping Rupert’s arm in neat bandages.

  “I think that it should heal well. If there is any heat in it or you run a fever, then send for me, my lord,” the doctor said as he finished.

  Rupert rolled down his sleeves, re-buttoned them, and was helped into his by Farrant, packing up his ephemera efficiently away. Verity thanked the doctor, saw him out, and then returned to the drawing room where Farrant helped Rupert into an undamaged coat.

  “Thank you, Farrant, can you send one of the grooms to take a note to this Sir Cuthbert and then we will take a light luncheon.”

  Rupert sat down at a bureau, drafted a missive to go with the groom, and then handed it to Verity to read. Her heart warmed at how thoughtful he was in involving her, confirming her belief that he wanted a life partner, someone with whom he shared everything.

  Dear Sir Cuthbert Addison,

  Justice of the Peace,

  Doctor Bartlett treated a musket ball wound in my arm earlier today. I was fired on while walking down the path from the Priory ruins, accompanied by my bride to be, Lady Verity Hansard. The proposal is very recent and has not yet been notified to the newspapers, so I mention our relationship in confidence. I heard the crack of a musket and received a slight wound to my upper arm. Two of my grooms, Seth Brown and John Cutler, pursued the miscreant, but he escaped on horseback. They identified the man as Maurice Rogers, my cousin, and currently my heir. Lady Verity’s dog bit him behind his knee.

  I am not sure how these things go, but I do not wish to risk my bride to be and my own person for this criminal to continue trying to kill me. Could you please visit to take my formal statement and arrange for his arrest?

  Yours truly

  Rupert Rogers

  Baron Ellesmere

  John Cutler rode off with the note once Rupert had sealed it. Rupert and Verity had lunch and waited in the library playing chess together until Sir Cuthbert Addison appeared. From the drawing room window, there was a clear view of the main drive and a large old-fashioned carriage accompanied by John Cutler on horseback, drove to the door.

  Rupert stood and headed to the entrance, tugging Verity to follow him. Farrant opened the door and a footman who had been riding at the rear of the carriage jumped down to lower the step and open the carriage door for the magistrate and his clerk to descend.

  Sir Cuthbert was a large man, wearing a full wig and a scarlet waistcoat. Verity had known the bluff and jovial justice ever since she had moved to the village. Verity observed a man in his fifties, with high colour in his cheeks and the start of a double chin. He still looked a powerfully strong man but his waistline had filled with years of good living. The clerk who descended behind him was small, thin and dressed in unassuming black.

  “Thank you, for coming so quickly, Sir Cuthbert Addison,” Rupert said, offering his hand to shake. “This is Lady Verity Hansard, whom I mentioned in my letter.”

  She inclined her head and smiled in greeting at the magistrate who took off his head and bowed.

  “It is a pleasure to see you again, Lady Verity.”

  The magistrate then grasped Rupert’s hand in a firm clasp. “Serious matter, can’t have felons shooting at lords, definitely not done, Lord Rogers. I have already asked my officers to seek out this Maurice Rogers. I was good friends with your great uncle and remember this Maurice, self-important maw-worm, couldn’t even be bothered to come to Lord Frederick’s funeral. Noticed you there, but did not want to intrude as there were so many waiting to talk to you, my lord.”

  “I was hoping to put things in order and pay off my debts before I made the usual visits to my neighbours. Sir, please come in, and can I tempt you to a glass of something?”

  “Yes, of course, my lord. May I offer my congratulations to you and Lady Verity. A very suitable match, if I may say so. A glass of mulled wine would be appreciated as it is a bit nippy today,” Which was an understatement as snow was now trying fitfully to fall and Rupert feared might settle.

  Half an hour later, the clerk had taken both Rupert’s and Verity’s statements. They and Sir Cuthbert were mellow from consuming some excellent mulled wine and seated by a roaring fire. He had taken down John Cutler’s account at Sir Cuthbert’s rambling home some four miles away from Ellesmere.

  “Burke, can you interview the butler, I believe his name is Farrant and then seek out this Seth Brown in the stables and get his report too?” the magistrate said.

  “Certainly, Sir,” the clerk said before scuttling off.

  “Now we can talk without interruption. Burke is trustworthy, but I think what we have to discuss should be kept private,” Sir Cuthbert declared.

  “I thought we had covered everything fairly comprehensively. What else is to discuss?” Rupert asked.

  “As I said, I was good friends with Lord Frederick, God rest his soul! I may have put two and two together and reached a baker’s dozen, but I came to the conclusion that you must have found his treasure. It is clear until Maurice is captured, you will need some security and if you intend to move the treasure, then you will need some upright men to assist you with moving it.”

  Verity gasped, shocked and Rupert coughed as some of the warm wine went down the wrong way.

  “Am I to understand that you know where Frederick hid his treasure?” Rupert asked.

  “Who else would Frederick get to help him? He did not trust Maurice even as a child and his father was a toad eater, so Freddie wanted it to be safe from their grasping hands. We were much younger then but it was still heavy work. Frederick organised the clockwork fellow and the new coffin, but he would not risk the servants, so he and I did the heavy lifting.”

  Rupert chuckled ruefully. “So all I would have had to do was ask you. We’ve been turning the house upside down, searching for a clue, because all he left me was a riddle of a sonnet to tell me where to find it,” he said, exasperated. “Yes, we found it, but I realised I would need help to bring it down to the Manor house and have no idea how much it is worth. So you have advice about security?”

  Chapter 10

  Verity listened as the magistrate and landowner suggested a way to deal with the security problems Rupert might face. She had been stunned when Sir Cuthbert mentioned the treasure, and Rupert had nearly choked in hearing how easy it could have been to find where it was hidden.

  Still, she was extremely glad he had not known for that would have cheated them of the adventure of finding it together.

  “My younger brother Major William Addison has a few hundred acres some eight miles from here. When he left the army after Waterloo, he decided to make more of the land, extend the orchards and concentrate on making cider,” Sir Cuthbert said, pausing to take another healthy sip of his wine.

  “He employed a number of his former soldiers who were now out of work, with nowhere to go. He is making a go of it, but the apples are picked cider made, and beyond a few maintenance tasks, there is little to do. He has trusted these men with his life and I would trust my brother with my own. Anyway, sometimes they are employed as a group for ‘security’ or protection duties during the winter. I always believed that keeping it in the family is a sensible move, not quite nepotism, but … oh, well.”

  Rupert’s expression was serious when he asked, “And you think this Major William might agree to help me, discreetly?”

  “He’ll expect to be paid, but his fees are reasonable, and until Maurice is behind bars, you will not feel safe. I can ask him to call on you, if you wish?”

  “Have you any idea of where we can get the treasure assessed for a valuation?” Verity asked Sir Cuthbert.

  “As it is winter, I would personally send to S.N. Riviere and sons in Bath. He is a Goldsmith, Jeweller and Watchmaker to His Royal Highness the Duke of Gloucester. His address in Bath is at 19, Old Bond Street. They are only op
en between November to March, but have premises in London as well. I should think that either the father or one of the sons would be able to oblige you and could arrange for the gold and jewels to be sold in London for a commission.”

  Rupert nodded. “Thank you, that will speed up dealing with the matter. You have been a great help, and we intend to put the banns up as soon as I have the opportunity to speak to Lord Hansard, Lady Verity’s brother. We thought it would be more correct even though she is of age.”

  Sir Cuthbert smiled and stood. “Well, I have lots to do. I hope we should catch this Maurice creature soon, but until then, take great care not to give him any more opportunities. I’ll send a note to my brother, shall I?”

  “Yes please, I should be grateful for some security until he is apprehended.”

  There was a knock on the door and the clerk entered.

  “Oh, good, Burke. Finished?”

  “Yes Sir, we might as well be off, the horses will be rested by now. I wish you every good luck, my lord and my lady,” Sir Cuthbert said, bowing deeply with a flourish before exiting the drawing room.

  “I can see why Lord Frederick trusted Sir Cuthbert, he is a good soul and has practical advice,” Lady Verity said, thinking back over the conversation.

  “Yes, I think I should write to that jeweller at once and then take you and Rufus home. The snow is coming down quite hard now and I would not want for you to get stranded.”

  “No, it is getting nasty, I would be grateful for a drive in your carriage.”

  “A decent modern carriage that was one thing that Uncle Frederick did not stint on. From what I can tell from his accounts, it was more that he lost interest in anything that did not personally affect his comfort,” Rupert said as he scrawled a note to the jeweller and then sanded and sealed it.

  “Farrant,” he called, “Can you arrange for the carriage to be brought around and ask Seth Brown and John Cutler to act as footmen. Does Tom Coachman have a musket or blunderbuss?”

  “Yes, my lord and there are Lord Frederick’s pistols in the side pockets…”

  “I never noticed, that is good to know, thank you, Farrant. We’ll come out as soon as the carriage is ready.”

  It was a quiet and tense drive back to Verity’s house, but they sat snuggled together and enjoyed the warmth of the hot bricks that Farrant had somehow arranged. She smiled, thinking how shocked but overjoyed Mary would be when she saw the ring. The carriage rumbled into her drive away. “We are here,” Verity murmured.

  Rupert cupped her cheeks and kissed her slowly, but so deeply and thoroughly.

  “I am not sure if I told you, but I am more than halfway in love with you.”

  She laughed, for in his eyes, she saw so many emotions and tenderness. “Only halfway? I am close to three quarters.”

  He kissed her again discreetly behind the carriage curtains and then let her and Rufus down, walking them to the door.

  When Rupert was sure Verity and Rufus were safely inside their home, he told Tom, the coach-driver to head to an inn, named the George in the nearby town of Frome. That particular inn was a boarding point for the Mail to Bath, so he should be able to catch the driver and have his letter to the jewellers delivered promptly as he knew it should arrive within a couple of hours. He would enjoy a tankard of his host’s best brew while he waited for the Mail to arrive. The Inn looked Georgian in period, although inside it had low blackened beams, but the beer was good and the host was jocund and welcoming.

  This was accomplished fairly easily but his grooms watched warily over him while they and Tom drank a pint or two together. He tipped the Mail’s driver a couple of shillings to make sure his letter was delivered with some urgency. Then he climbed back into his carriage and headed back to Ellesmere Manor. No sign of Maurice was seen during his travels and Rupert was relieved to get back inside his own home, and warming again in front of the fire. The snow had not let up and had started to settle so he was pleased to be back.

  It was later in the evening and Rupert had finished a fine supper. He was enjoying a glass of brandy and reading a book he had found in the library which was a treatise on the importance of modernising farming methods. He read more than he had ever thought possible about animal breeding, under draining, crop rotation, and soil fertilisation. Rupert thought that they were matters he should study further if he was going to run the manor with its farms.

  Not that there were many farms on the estate, the home farm represented the main part of the land and there were two smaller farms that were tenanted. It was not a big enough estate to really keep a house and the staff that it needed. The house was quiet and it was dark outside but he thought he could hear horses, even though he was at the back of the house in the library.

  He got up and moved to the front drawing room, and he could now see the horses slowing and coming to a halt in front of the manor. Six men who sat their mounts as if they were well used to them. Rupert wondered at first whether they had been sent by Maurice and was afraid for the servants. He got up and went to the library door, opening it quietly to listen as Farrant went to open the door.

  “Major William Addison and friends to see Lord Rogers, I believe he may be expecting me?”

  “I’ll see if my lord is receiving, sir,” Farrant said in his most pompous tones. “Please wait here, gentlemen.”

  “Farrant, please admit them. I am expecting Major Addison,” Rupert called down the hall to his butler.

  “Very good, my lord,” Farrant said, sounding slightly miffed as if his dignity had been disparaged. “Please come this way gentlemen.”

  Rupert stood in the corridor and watched the group of men come forward, they walked like soldiers despite their lack of anything resembling uniforms. Their leader appeared to be about forty years of age but otherwise was exactly as Rupert would have imagined Sir Cuthbert would have looked if he was that much younger and kept in trim. Only four men entered, so Rupert assumed that the other two had taken the horses around to the stables.

  “Farrant, please organise some more mulled wine and refreshments as it is a cold night for a ride…”

  “Certainly, my lord,” the butler remarked, bustling out.

  “Gentlemen, please be seated. I understand that Sir Cuthbert informed you of my predicament?” he asked Major Addison, who sat ramrod straight on one of the drawing room’s most uncomfortable chairs. The others seated themselves on a settee across from him in a row, perched on the edge as if somewhat uncomfortable in more genteel environs.

  “Yes, my lord. I thought it was better not to wait as the snow seems determined to settle and can then make the roads difficult to travel. May I introduce my companions, former Sergeant O’Neall.” He gestured to a large dark-haired man with a distinct twinkle in his eye. “Corporal Johnson, and Private Cooper, who have joined me since being retired from the army.”

  The door was knocked on, and Rupert bid Farrant to enter.

  “My lord, Mrs. Lucia Addison and er, Private Evans, Sir. I will bring the mulled wine and the refreshments, sir.”

  “Farrant, wait a minute, can you ask Mrs. Hughes to prepare some rooms for our guests and have fires lit as they will be staying overnight?”

  “Of course, my lord.”

  “Excuse me, my Lord,” Private Evans interjected, “but I asked John Cutler if I could bunk down with him over the stables, because interference with harness and carriages are something we’ve seen before when on these kinds of jobs…”

  “Certainly Private Evans, I apologize ma’am, I did not realise you were one of the group, I am pleased to make your acquaintance,” Rupert said, addressing a stunning black-haired beauty, incongruously dressed in men’s riding clothes.

  “No formalities are needed, my Lord. I should have entered with my husband, William,” she said as Rupert bowed correctly over her hand. “However, Ximena, my mare is a temperamental beast and I wanted to see her properly settled,” the lady said, speaking with a distinct Spanish accent.

  “I
thought it might be a good idea for Lucia to come as my brother mentioned that your fiancée might also be a target. She brought female dress with her, but she is good with pistols, a rifle and a sabre. I thought she might perhaps stay with Lady Verity and accompany her so that she too has some security,”

  “That sounds an excellent idea, I will be happy to introduce her to Lady Verity tomorrow and I am sure she will welcome her into her household.”

  Farrant knocked and entered again, accompanied by the housekeeper and a maid all bearing trays.

  “I presumed to order some supper for our guests as it must have been a cold ride, my lord.”

  “You would make a better host than I do, Farrant. I only hope that I will learn to be as astute! Major Addison, his wife, and companions have come to help us with security, while Maurice is still at large,” Rupert informed his retainer. “Mrs. Addison, I hope will be providing security for Lady Verity for the time being, you may explain their presence to the rest of the staff and I trust they will be treated as welcome guests during their stay.”

  A table was pulled over and the servants deposited glasses, a steaming bowl of mulled wine and plates of bread, cheese, cold meats, pork pies, pickles, and some healthy slices of rich fruit cake.

  “Thank you, Farrant and Mrs. Hughes, you have thought of everything,” Rupert declared.

  “I’ve put Major and Mrs. Addison in the green bedroom, and the other gentlemen can share the Rose and Chinese rooms, sir. Warming pans are in all the beds, and the fires are lit. Hot water is on, should they wish to wash, my lord,” Mrs. Hughes said, bobbing a curtsey. The maid also curtseyed, and then the servants departed, leaving them to discuss among themselves and consume a very much appreciated supper.

  Chapter 11

  The snow had fallen heavily overnight, and morning greeted Rupert with a picturesque view from his bedroom window, glistening pristine white, sparkling swathed the land around, nestling on the trees and bushes in an awe-inspiring display. Rupert felt young again, eager to build snowmen, to slide down slopes on a tea-tray and throw snowballs in mock fight. He smiled, thinking about how Verity would love the sight and want to play in the snow too.