Snowflakes and Scandals

Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Nell had made him a promise, and now she must keep it. In a way, it was a relief to know that she had two more days with him. She wished she might stay forever.

Like a fool, she had fallen in love with him.

Or maybe just with his cheerful kindliness, although he was greatly appealing in other ways, too. She recalled his strong arm around her shivering frame last night, the blessed warmth of his body behind hers, and her whole being heated.

Thank heavens she’d stopped herself just in time from blurting that some part of her wanted him to importune her. A lady would never think such a thing, let alone say it aloud!

In any event, one didn’t fall in love at first sight, or as close to it as made no difference. Still, as she watched him disappear into his study, she couldn’t help but sigh.

The little dog, fluffy and light, a fairylike creature, wagged its plumy tail. “You agree with me, don’t you?” she whispered. “He is the most wonderful man in the world.”

Rupert turned to close the door and saw her watching him whilst she knelt to pet the dog. He raised a hand and retreated into the study. An adequate first step had been taken. She seemed to value him, if that was what being unable to lie to him meant.

Mrs. O (if he confided in her, which he wouldn’t) might say that promises were not proof, but he knew better. Or thought he did. Nell had promised to stay till Christmas Day, and he must take advantage of that short, sweet time.

Either she would stay longer, preferably forever, or he would escort her to her destination. He wouldn’t let her leave alone.

He pondered the activities planned for the rest of today and all of tomorrow. He and the other men would fetch the Yule log and gather holly, ivy, and mistletoe. Together, they would all decorate the Great Hall.

He smiled to himself. He wouldn’t be much of a man if he didn’t do his best to kiss her.

Fine, but he mustn’t let even a few hours pass without getting to know her better, and doing his best to make her realize that no matter what she feared, she was safe—would always be safe—with him.

However, he couldn’t hover in the kitchen like a silly fool. He must spend more time alone with her, and therefore he needed an excuse…ah!

He hastened through the study and reached the kitchen just as Nell reentered from the garden, looking subdued and a little sad. Did she too wish she could stay? With him?

How lovely if she were thinking of mistletoe, too—but clearly, she was not.

“Nell! Do you know how to make lamb’s wool?” he asked.

She brightened, her cheer a patina over the sadness. “Why, of course I do, sir!”

“Wonderful. We shall need enough for a tankard for each guest tomorrow—say, fifty or sixty people, perhaps a few more. Have we enough apples?”

“Yes, sir, there are plenty in the larder,” she said. “I’d best check the other supplies, though.” She counted them on her fingers. “Sugar, of course, allspice berries, ginger root, cinnamon, cloves, nutmeg.” She all but danced into the pantry to check.

“Have you convinced her to stay?” whispered Millie.

“Not quite,” he said softly. “But I believe she is beginning to trust me, and I shall do my very best.”

Millie clapped her hands, and Peg gave a soft squeak of glee.

Nell reappeared, and he said, “Fetch your coat and hat, Nell. You must come with me to the Green Lady—our nearby inn—to taste what Mr. Hicks has to offer. Rather than brew the ale ourselves, we benefit from his expertise in brewing and buy it from him.”

Obediently, Nell dressed for the wintry weather, but when she reached the door, she hesitated. There he stood, gazing up at his house as if deep in thought. He was so strong and handsome, and she was head over heels for him, no doubt about that. Why encourage such foolishness?

Fairy—for that seemed the right name for the little dog—nudged her from behind with one sharp, admonitory yip, and she hurried out the door.

“Nell! There you are. Tell me, what do you think of my house?”

“Well, sir, it’s a very nice house, not that I’ve seen much of it. Only the kitchen and Mrs. O’s room and Cook’s room, and the Great Hall, where we’re to celebrate tomorrow night.”

“It needs work, I fear—the worst being the closed section.” He guided her along garden paths and indicated a section of the wall with scaffolding going all the way to the roof. One window on the second floor was broken, and the tattered ends of a curtain flapped in the wind. “It’s badly damaged and unsafe at the moment, but men from the village will come to repair the roof after Christmas, and then I’ll have the floors replaced.”

“That sounds very good, sir,” she said politely, wondering why he was telling her all this.

“The rest of the house needs refurbishing almost everywhere,” he said. “The uncle from whom I inherited it let it all go—the house, the outbuildings, even the village, I’m sorry to say—but I plan to set everything to rights.” He smiled down at her. “What this house needs now is a mistress. Do you agree?”

Why ask her ? She was about to leave. Not only that, the thought of Sir Rupert belonging to some unknown woman made her sad. No, it annoyed her. She rarely let herself be annoyed, for it was hard to control her unruly tongue if she did.

“I expect that’s so, sir, but I’m sure I don’t know why you have brought up such a subject with me.” Which was probably impertinent, but at least she’d controlled her irritation.

And then she didn’t. “Do you habitually ask your servants’ advice on such a personal matter ?” she snapped.

He chuckled; not offended, then. She hadn’t seen him take offense at anything so far. “I don’t need to, for they say exactly what they think—such as that I need a wife—and although I don’t always wish to hear what they say, I know they mean well.”

There. He didn’t want a wife. Or a mistress, evidently, for which she should be grateful.

“How unusual,” she said. “My St—” Drat. “I was taught that servants should be silent and wellnigh invisible.”

“Bosh,” he said. “Whoever taught you was a snobbish, inconsiderate fool.”

Nell giggled, trying to imagine how Stepmother would take that. Fortunately, she would never meet Sir Rupert.

“In any event, you’re not really a servant. You’re a lady.”

She opened her mouth to protest, but he put up a hand to forestall her. “You may have worked as a servant—in fact, your skill in the kitchen makes it clear that you have—but you were born a lady.”

“Oh, dear,” Nell murmured, “I don’t know what to do .”

“I do. You shall walk with me, and we’ll talk.” With a gesture, he invited her to take his arm. She did so automatically, although she had rarely walked on the arm of a gentleman since the death of her father. How disconcerting—she feared she was blushing—yet how lovely to be treated like the lady she was. Or used to be.

Oh, why must he try to pry her secrets from her? Why couldn’t she be allowed to enjoy these two days, and then leave?

They meandered through a gate, past the stables and an apple orchard, and onto a footpath that led into a wood. “It’s quicker to the village this way. The groom and my manservant and I shall come here later, as well, to fetch the Yule log, and to cut holly and ivy, and also mistletoe—can’t allow the apple trees to have too much, so in order to get Christmas kisses, we’re also helping the orchard.”

He grinned, and she blushed. Would she be lucky enough to get a Christmas kiss from him? One needn’t be wife or mistress for that.

“This evening, we’ll all decorate together,” he said.

“How lovely,” she said, “almost like a family.” Ah, good, a safe subject. “Do you have family, sir? Sisters and brothers? Cousins? Do your parents still live?”

“My father died some years ago, and my mother bides with my sister in Leicestershire. My other sister married a Scot and lives in a castle. You’d like her, I think—she’s very down-to-earth. In fact, you’d like them all. My only brother died in infancy. You?”

How to put this so it wasn’t a lie? “I am my parents’ only offspring. My mother died when I was a child, and my father about five years ago.” There—that avoided mentioning the stepsisters.

“Perhaps some day you shall meet my family,” he said.

“That’s not likely, sir, as I shall leave in only a few days.”

“True, but one never knows. Perhaps you need not leave at all.”

She, halted, removed her hand from his arm, and stood away. A chilly breeze nipped at her. She hadn’t noticed it while walking close beside him. She forced herself to frown. “Sir Rupert, I must leave!”

His gaze was warm and kind. “Nell, it is obvious that you are running away from someone, or something, or both.”

She bit her lip hard and said nothing.

He patted her hand and tucked it once again on his arm. “Surely I can protect you from whomever or whatever that is.”

She shook her head. “I don’t believe so, Sir Rupert. No one can.” How she wished she could explain her predicament, but she couldn’t bear to see his kindliness change to scorn—as it surely would.

They walked on in silence and soon emerged from the wood. There before them stood the tidy, thatched cottages of the village. They seemed in excellent repair. How like Sir Rupert to take care of his tenants’ homes before his own!

No doubt his villagers were worthy people, whom one would never suspect of breaking a law.

She stopped short. “I don’t think… This isn’t wise… I’d better not go to the inn with you.” She turned to flee, but suddenly Fairy was right behind her, almost tripping her, giving another of her sharp, admonitory yaps.

“The dog disagrees,” Sir Rupert said with a faint smile.

“If I go with you to the inn, the innkeeper will remember me, and if someone comes looking for me, he will tell them.”

“Not if I introduce you as a childhood friend of my sister, come to help with the Christmas festivities, and in particular to make the lamb’s wool from your special recipe.”

“That will never do. A lady cannot stay in a gentleman’s house without a chaperone,” Nell protested.

“Since you are sharing Mrs. O’s bedchamber, as she will make entirely clear if required, that won’t be a problem.”

She nodded dubiously. This was all very confusing. On the one hand, in desperation she would have accepted becoming his mistress; on the other hand, she dreaded the consequences of gossip and scandal. Which was absurd, for if she were found, she faced far, far worse.

She shuddered at the thought. “Truly, I shouldn’t go to the inn. I’m sure whatever ale Mr. Hicks has will be perfectly fine. You have used it in the past, and surely you won’t go elsewhere—think of his chagrin if you did!”

“Ever thoughtful,” he said, guiding her gently down the village street, and somehow, she couldn’t resist. “Will the name McGinty be recognized by your pursuers?”

“I don’t think so,” she said. “She—they—” She was not going to blurt anything, drat it.

She didn’t need to. She had just admitted, without realizing it, that McGinty was not her surname.

“How about your first name? What is it, by the way? Helen? Eleanor? Not that I intend to mention it; in fact, we’d better not, but I’d like to know.”

“Eleanor,” she murmured.

“Ah, named after a queen—Eleanor of Aquitaine.” He smiled and nodded to a maid sweeping a doorstep.

“Actually, I was named after her,” Nell said, astonished. “She is an ancestor of—of sorts.”

“And I was named after a prince,” he said. “Rupert of the Rhine—also my ancestor, by way of a child born on the wrong side of the blanket.”

She giggled. “Mine, too.” She paused. “Heavens, we both have royal blood. Although Step—” She bit her tongue just in time.

He looked a question, but merely smiled and didn’t pursue it. He was too busy steering her toward the inn. The sign swinging above the door depicted a lady draped in green, with a belt and crown of ivy, carrying a lantern, and followed by a tiny dog.

“Look!” Nell said. “That dog looks just like our Fairy!”

“Fairy?”

“Yes, the dog you rescued last night. That’s what I call her, for she is tiny and full of fun and spirit.” She looked around, but Fairy was nowhere to be seen.

“She’s a bit of a nuisance, if you ask me,” Sir Rupert said. “Always getting in the way with that peremptory little bark of hers.”

“I rather like that. When I hesitate, she pushes me to go forward. To do what I must.” To no longer be afraid. It only worked for a little while—the fear kept coming back—but the moments without it were heaven.

“Come to think of it,” Sir Rupert said, “she does the same for me.”

Rupert would have rescued Nell from the stile without prompting from the dog—that is, if he had noticed her at all. He’d been weary, riding half asleep, and she’d been utterly silent, partly hidden by branches arching over the stile, and had made no attempt to attract his attention. The dog had done that.

Just as the same determined little creature had drawn attention to itself a mile or so earlier, and of course he’d scooped her up and cuddled her in his coat.

Mr. Hicks, a tall, thin man whom Rupert had known since childhood visits to his uncle, greeted them affably, gazed upon Nell with a fatherly eye, and made his approval of her clear. Damn, what a fool Rupert would look if he couldn’t convince her to stay.

Nell went into raptures over the Green Lady’s prize ale. “We’ve the aid of the fairies,” Hicks said with a wink. “The Green Lady is our guardian spirit, or so the legends say.”

“How lovely that must be,” Nell said, “to have a guardian spirit.”

“Aye, ’tis, Miss,” Hicks said, “as the whole of Wonderly village knows. Now that you’ve come to stay, she’s your guardian spirit, too.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t stay long,” Nell said sadly.

“Tsk,” said Mr. Hicks, shaking his head. “It’s plain to see that you belong here.”

Rupert and Nell strolled companionably home along the wintry lane. It was all very well to talk of guardian spirits, but it was best not to depend too much on such beings. Instead, Rupert concentrated on the practical—on what he could do.

Which meant escorting Nell back to the kitchen, where she was sorely needed. He rousted out Tom the groom, Joey Jenkins, his manservant, who combined the roles of footman and valet, and Harry the gardener, who would be hurt if not included despite his advanced age. They all tramped into the woods, where with a bit of help from Samson and plenty of grunts and laughter, they hauled a massive log all the way to the front door, up a makeshift ramp, and into the enormous fireplace in the Great Hall.

Then they returned to gather holly from along the path, ivy from the garden walls, and mistletoe from the orchard.

They dined early on bread and pea soup, for which Nell apologized. “Sorry, sir, but we’d no time for a proper dinner, what with all the preparations for tomorrow.”

“It’s perfect, Nell. I don’t want complicated meals, just good ones. Hot, nourishing, filling…what more could a man ask? And don’t fret about tomorrow. You’ll have a couple of girls from the village to help out.”

After dinner, they all repaired to the Great Hall with stepladders and tankards of ale, to festoon the room with holly and ivy. After this was done, Nell asked, “Shall we make a kissing ball?”

“Yes, let’s!” Millie and Peg giggled with glee, and they set to work with scissors and red ribbons. Rupert did the honors, climbing a much taller ladder and fastening the kissing ball around one of the huge oak beams.

Rupert also saved a sprig of mistletoe and a bit of ribbon for a plan of his own. But how to put his plan into action?

Christmas Eve dawned, and a flurry of activity kept everyone busy, even with the help of a few village maidens. How the devil, Rupert wondered, would he ever get a chance to kiss Nell? He didn’t want to do so in front of everyone. It wasn’t a simple Christmas kiss, the sort of silly, \ harmless bussing that was part of the festivities.

It was a private sort of kiss.

It was, Rupert realized, a declaration of love.