Candlelit Christmas Kisses: Captain Moorcroft's Christmas Bride / Governess Under the Mistletoe

When he was restless like this, he needed exercise. It was bitterly cold, and he was not dressed for it, but he needed to run and run hard. The only way to shut out this tearing agony was to exhaust himself physically, so that when he returned to the house he would fall asleep and achieve that peace he longed for so desperately.

Selina stood at the window at the top of the hall and looked out. Trent had told her that the earl had gone into the garden without his greatcoat and had still not returned by the time the others parted and sought their beds.

‘It’s bitter out, miss,’ the elderly butler had said. ‘I fear for him on a night like this—his family had weak chests. If he were to take a chill …’

Selina understood his fear of losing the last of the line. If the earl died, the estate must pass to the Crown, and it would probably stand empty for years until every effort had been made to discover a distant relative. If none were found, it would eventually be sold, and by then it would have decayed to the stage where it would almost certainly be pulled down.

‘I should not worry too much, Trent,’ she’d said kindly. ‘The Earl survived the war and must, I think, be stronger than his cousins were.’

‘I hope so, miss—but it isn’t wise. It isn’t wise at all.’

Selina could not disagree. She had gone to her room but, finding it impossible to rest, had donned a warm wool robe and taken up a position at this window, which looked out over the front of the house, watching for Moorcroft’s return.

It was almost one o’clock in the morning when he finally returned. She saw him walking towards the house. He paused for a moment and looked up, almost as if he sensed he was being watched. Then she saw someone go out to him. It was Henry Norton. He took hold of the earl’s arm and half pushed him inside. She could hear nothing, but she sensed that Nor was using the privilege of old friends to scold Moorcroft.

A feeling of relief crept over her as she realised that Henry must have done this many times before. He would know how to care for his friend—because they were friends, rather than employer and secretary. Henry Norton did not work because he needed to, or to amuse himself, but because he could not leave his friend. They had both been terribly scarred but in different ways.

Selina’s throat caught, and for some nonsensical reason, she found that her cheeks were wet with tears. She brushed them away. How foolish! She had hardly cried when Papa died, though she’d sobbed for Mama—to cry for a man she scarcely knew was beyond foolish. He would not want her tears.

Turning away, she went back to her room and threw her robe over a chair. She was glad to snuggle down into her bed, and after a few minutes of rather serious reflection settled down to sleep.

‘You damned fool,’ Henry said in a severe tone. ‘This isn’t Italy, and it’s cold enough for snow. What the hell did you think you were doing?’

‘To be honest, I didn’t think,’ Robert replied, and gave him a rueful smile. ‘I am sorry to keep you from your bed, Nor. You really must stop watching over me as if I was your child.’

‘When you start behaving like an adult, I’ll go to bed and leave you to yourself,’ Henry said. ‘Now, drink this hot toddy and no arguments. I don’t want you going down with a chill.’

‘I never have chills,’ Robert said. ‘I’m as strong as an ox. Give it here and I’ll drink it—but you must go to bed. And, Nor …’

Henry turned as he reached the door.

‘Thank you. I’m a fool and I’d be dead without you.’

‘Rubbish,’ Henry said. ‘You are a fool, but you would survive.’ He hesitated, then, ‘Let it all go, Robert. I know what happened, I know you feel responsible, but you were not to blame. Those men lost their heads in the heat of their bloodlust; they weren’t the first and they will not be the last. It is a beast that lives in some men, and you could not have known.’

‘Yes, you are right.’ Robert shivered. He was still cold all the way through, even though he was sitting by a roaring fire wrapped in blankets. ‘I’m trying. Believe me, I don’t want this nightmare to continue.’

‘I was hiding in Italy just as you were, Robert. I’ve decided it’s time I started to live again—and so should you.’

‘I’m glad for you. I really am. You deserve to be happy.’

‘I’m not sure I shall be happy. I have no right to ask her, Robert, and unless I can be sure I could make her happy, I shan’t—but whatever happens I’m not going to hide away. I am who I am—scars and all. People may love me or hate me, but I’m not going to apologise for how I look.’

‘No need, Nor,’ Robert said, and sneezed. ‘Miss Millie told you she thought you were quite ugly but she still likes you.’ He laughed mockingly. ‘If one sister won’t have you, you may wait for the other to grow up.’

‘Go to bed, Robert,’ Henry said with a sigh. ‘Or I may very well strangle you.’

‘Aye, aye, Captain,’ Robert said, and sneezed again. ‘Get out of here before I infect you.’

Henry went. His expression was thoughtful as he sought his own room. Coming here might be the best thing that had happened to them both—or the worst.

‘Miss Searles …’ Henry Norton looked at her apologetically as he entered the breakfast parlour the next morning. ‘Forgive me. I promised to escort you and your sisters into Long Melford this morning, but I fear I must cry off.’

‘Oh …’ Selina’s heart caught as she looked at his face. ‘Is something the matter, Henry?’

‘I fear Robert took a chill last night,’ he said. ‘I waited up for him and he was frozen to the bone. As you must have seen this morning, the ground was hard with frost, even though there was no actual snow.’

‘A chill?’ Selina clasped her hands at her sides because she feared they might tremble and betray her. ‘Is he very ill?’

‘He is sneezing and he has a cough. I have forbidden him to get up, and I made him drink a hot toddy last night, but I think he is feeling rather unwell.’

‘Yes, I should imagine he might.’ Selina hesitated. ‘I could make him a tisane to ease him before we go?’

‘If your cook or your maid would do that, it would surely suffice,’ Henry said. ‘I see no reason why you should put off your day of pleasure, Miss Searles.’

‘If I am to call you Henry, you must call me Selina,’ she said. ‘I know Millie is looking forward to the trip, and I wish to buy her birthday gift, so I think we shall go. I am sure Moorcroft will do well enough in your hands. You have nursed him through worse, perhaps?’

‘Actually, it was the other way around,’ Henry said, and smiled oddly. ‘I almost died on the field of battle, Miss Selina—and should have done so afterwards had it not been for Robert’s devotion. He pulled me through by sheer force of will and because he would not leave my side. Juanita nursed me some of the time, but it was Robert’s determination that I should not die that made me cling to life when it seemed there was no point.’ His smile disappeared. ‘It was later that Robert … when she died in terrible pain and he held her to the last …’

‘Juanita? What happened to her? Is that why he looks so tortured at times?’

Was she the woman Robert Moorcroft had loved? The thought stabbed Selina to the heart.

‘He cannot forget her. He feels responsible for her death. She was very beautiful, and a creature of fire and passion.’ He shook his head. ‘We are a sorry pair, Selina—but there is a bond between us. I should hate to lose him to a chill.’

‘Yes, I am sure you would. I will ask my maid to make a tisane. She made them for all of us when we were ill—but if he is no better soon, you should send for the doctor.’

‘He refuses to have one—calls them quacks. They killed as many as they saved out there, you see. So many of our comrades died of fever and gangrene. Most prayed they would die on the field rather than suffer the ministrations of the butchers—as we called the surgeons.’

‘Please watch over him, and if need be, ignore his wishes for once,’ Selina said. ‘I shall speak to my maid—and I will speak to you again when we return.’

Selina did her best to put her concerns for the earl out of her mind as they set out for town a short time later. It was such a treat for her sisters to visit the shops, and she had put by some guineas for the occasion, giving them both a share to spend as they pleased, while keeping the larger part to purchase the things they needed for Christmas.

The shops in Long Melford were more than adequate for their needs, and by the time they had partaken of light refreshments at the Bull Inn, which was said to be haunted, they had already completed most of their shopping and were laden with parcels. Betty and their groom then took charge of their parcels to allow them to complete their shopping, and it was past three in the afternoon when they started back for Moorcroft Hall. The light was fading. By the time they arrived, it was dark.

Lights had been lit in several of the front windows and the lanterns outside the porch were blazing. A trap drawn by one restless horse stood outside the house, and was being walked up and down by a groom Selina had not previously seen.

She went up to him, her heart racing as the pleasure of the day was forgotten in her anxiety. ‘Has the doctor been sent for?’ she asked.

‘Yes, ma’am,’ the groom replied. ‘I’m the doctor’s man—he’s with the earl now.’

Even as he spoke, the door opened and she saw Trent standing there in the porch. The doctor was taking his leave as Millie and Amy gathered their parcels and walked towards the butler.

‘Is something wrong?’ Amy asked. ‘Is the earl worse?’

‘He is sick with a fever, miss,’ the doctor replied. ‘I have given him some of a mixture that may help but he was very hot. I fear the worst—this is a family prone to succumbing to such illnesses. I should have been called earlier.’

‘Is it true, Trent?’ Selina asked, following her sisters in, her arms filled with parcels. ‘Is the earl very ill?’