Candlelit Christmas Kisses. Anne Herries
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Selina had refused the three hundred pounds a year Mr Breck had offered to pay her, which would have solved all her financial problems, because it would not do for the sister of two young ladies who had yet to establish themselves in life to be known as a paid housekeeper. If they were taken care of, she could be quite independent without worrying how it might affect their lives. No one would even have to know that she existed.
The more she thought about it, the more she thought that she would be content to work for her living. It might be preferable to marrying a man she did not love just to gain a home. Or was she just being foolish because of a long-held dream?
The picture of a young soldier’s face entered her mind, and she smiled at the memory. He’d swept her off her feet that night, giving her a taste of feelings and sensations so intense that she knew no one else would ever measure up. Indeed, she’d been so carried away that she had allowed him liberties no decent young woman should. Did that make her a wanton?
He’d said he would return to claim her one day—what did that mean? Had he meant marriage or …? Her cheeks flamed. Had he thought her wanton because she’d been carried away by her feelings? Sometimes Selina was shocked when she recalled what he’d done, but then she remembered how sweet had been the touch of his lips, and she could not be ashamed of what had been so pleasurable.
No, she would not let her thoughts dwell in the past. Time enough to think of her own future. First she had to make sure that Amy and Millie were safe, and until then she must struggle on as best she could.
CHAPTER THREE
‘YOU are jesting?’ Henry Norton stared at his friend in genuine surprise. ‘She turned you down? Have her wits gone begging or did you offend her?’
Robert smiled wryly. ‘You know me too well, Nor. I was too direct, of course. Told her it would not be a love match while assuring her that I was fond of her and found her desirable as a companion and a mother for my children.’
‘I am not surprised she turned you down. Indeed, I wonder that you escaped unscathed to tell the tale. Knowing her temper, I would have expected you to bear some injury. What possessed you to say such a thing to the lady? You might have known she would be angry. The fair Adelaide has a score of gentlemen languishing at her feet.’
‘Well, they may take their chances with her and good luck. She is beautiful but a spoiled brat,’ Robert said, and touched his cheek with feeling. ‘Not quite unscathed, Nor. The lady packs quite a punch, believe me.’
‘No less than you deserved.’ Henry was unsympathetic. ‘If you wanted her to accept, you should have … But of course you didn’t.’ He nodded knowingly as he saw Robert’s expression. ‘You felt it your duty to offer for her, after flirting with her so outrageously for months, but you never truly wished to marry her, did you?’
‘I confess it was done out of duty, for I had unwittingly led the lady to believe an offer was forthcoming.’ Robert sighed heavily. ‘I have behaved very badly. I know she is all that most men require in a wife, but she is not for me.’
‘Good grief, what are you looking for—a saint?’
‘No …’ Robert laughed in an oddly defensive way. ‘Would it be too much to ask that the lady should love me—or at least hold me in warm affection? I know I’m not the easiest of men. My nightmares would scare a young woman. I thought since Adelaide had been married once before she might be looking for a marriage of convenience, but it seems she demands utter devotion, and that I cannot promise. I’m not sure I shall ever be able to give my whole self to a woman. I’ve seen too much, Nor—cried too many tears. My heart broke on the Spanish Peninsula campaign, and I’m not sure I can feel love again.’
Henry nodded. He felt much as Robert did. The death of so many friends had left deep wounds that might never heal. But Robert had suffered more. Henry had watched him as he held Juanita in his arms, nursing her through a night during which she had been racked with terrible pain—pain inflicted by a renegade band of English soldiers. To see a young and beautiful woman destroyed so utterly as Juanita had been was something any man might find hard to forget. Raped, beaten and left for dead, she’d lived long enough to tell her tale, name her torturers, and die in her lover’s arms.
Sometimes Henry wished she’d died sooner, before he and Robert had found her. Perhaps then his friend would have recovered. But the experience had scarred him deeply, leaving him with terrible nightmares that haunted him still, even after two years spent recuperating in the peace and warmth of the hills of Tuscany.
‘Well, since there is no longer a reason for you to stay here, perhaps we should return to England.’
‘Yes, I believe we should,’ Robert agreed. ‘You wrote to Mr Breck and told him I would return before Christmas?’
‘I told him it was your intention. But you do not intend to visit the Banford Hall estate at once, I think?’
‘It will keep for a while. We shall go to London. Breck may arrange for the townhouse to be opened up, and we’ll go there for a week or two. My own estate was small and disposed of when I decided to stay here, but the money was invested. I shall want to investigate the state of my finances, which I believe to be more than adequate. As I told you, Nor—I do not think I can bear to live in that mausoleum of a house. It will have to come down if I’m to live there, but it may be better just to sell.’
‘I’ll write to Breck again before we leave, warning him of your intentions. When shall we go—next month?’
‘Why not sooner?’ Robert smiled. ‘We’ll pay a brief visit to Paris, and get home in time to prepare for Christmas.’
Selina looked around her with satisfaction. She and her sisters, and Jane and Betty, had spent the past three weeks cleaning and sorting out the neglect of years. The parlours, drawing room, dining room and breakfast parlour were all now in good order. Furniture had been polished, carpets beaten and silver burnished. The main staircase—a magnificent relic from medieval times, intricately carved—when they arrived had been ingrained with dust. Now the dark oak gleamed with polish, its faded beauty restored.
‘It looks much better now, Miss Selina,’ Betty said with a nod of satisfaction. ‘I’ve never sneezed so much in my life without having a chill—everywhere was so dusty. I think the drawing room had not been used in years.’
‘Well, we have made big changes.’ Selina was pleased because she had discovered some beautiful pieces of walnut furniture that had been languishing under dustcovers in the unused wings. By bringing in useful items like desks and small tables, pretty chairs with spindly legs and a comfortable sofa, she had transformed the rooms they were to use. The heavier, ugly pieces had been transferred to one of the unused rooms. ‘Everything in here was so heavy and dull—and all those lovely things going to waste …’
‘I hope the new earl won’t mind.’ Betty looked doubtful. ‘Some folk hate things to be changed, you know, miss.’
‘Well, he isn’t here, is he?’ Selina replied. ‘If he cared about his uncle’s home, he would have come back at once to see what needed to be done to set it to rights. Besides, all I’ve done is make the rooms we use comfortable and pretty.’
‘You’ve certainly made them your own,’ Betty said. ‘I’d best away to the kitchen, miss. Cook is making puddings and cakes for Christmas, and she needs a hand.’