Joanna Maitland - The Earl’s Mistletoe Bride

Beth realised she had spoken aloud. ‘I am sorry, Hetty. I was berating myself, not you.’ She shook her head. ‘This leg of mine refuses to do what I tell it.’ That was not the cause of her outburst, but it would do.

‘Mrs Aubrey said as you was to sit on the sofa with your leg up. And I was to bring you anything you needed.’

Beth gave in and subsided gratefully on to the sofa by the window. Before she could even draw breath, Hetty was lifting her bandaged leg on to the cushions. ‘There, miss. Now, what may I fetch you?’

‘If I am to lie here, like a pampered cat basking in the sun, I had better do something useful. If you would fetch me the mending, Hetty, I will make a start on that.’

Hetty returned with the mending basket. Beth, mindful of her latest resolution, selected the most difficult piece of work she could find. That should keep her mind occupied until Aunt Caro returned from her visiting. Being alone, and having time to think, was too dangerous. The last thing she needed was one of her sick headaches on top of a sprained ankle.

She had barely completed her first neat darn when Mrs Aubrey bustled in, removing her bonnet. She handed it to the maid. ‘Would you fetch us some tea, Hetty? I am sure Miss Beth would enjoy a cup.’

‘You are very good, ma’am, though I fear I have not earned it. Look how little I have done.’

‘You are an invalid, child. You should be taking your ease, with nothing more than a romantic novel to amuse you. Invalids do not mend shirts.’

‘This one does!’ Beth replied pertly, but with an affectionate smile.

Mrs Aubrey chuckled and sat down opposite Beth. ‘I have visited Widow Jenkinson this morning. She sends her best wishes for your speedy recovery. She was sad to learn that you had not been brought to her house to escape the storm.’

‘It would have given her food for gossip for a month, especially if she had seen Jo-if she had seen his lordship carrying me up the path.’ Mrs Aubrey might have leave to use Jonathan’s given name, but Beth did not.

Mrs Aubrey chuckled again. ‘I made a quick visit to the lodge also, as I was passing, although Master Jonathan was not at home.’

Beth raised her eyebrows, feigning surprise. Mrs Jenkinson and the lodge were at opposite ends of the village. ‘Now that , young lady, is a most impudent look, I must say.’

Beth raised her eyebrows even higher.

‘Oh, very well. No, I was not passing, as we both know. I went there deliberately, to find out about how long he means to remain at Fratcombe, that kind of thing. The least we can do is invite him to take dinner with us. Once you are well enough, of course.’

The thought of seeing Jonathan again, and of the difficult exchanges that might ensue, made Beth’s head pound dangerously. ‘I had best remain upstairs, ma’am. His lordship and the rector will have much to discuss. To have me hobbling about would be an unwelcome distraction.’

‘Now that is a whisker, if ever I heard one.’ Mrs Aubrey shook a mittened finger in mock reproof, but her eyes were twinkling. ‘I shall pretend that I did not hear it at all.’

Hetty appeared with the tea tray and placed it carefully on the table in front of Mrs Aubrey. Just at that moment, someone plied the knocker, with considerable force.

Mrs Aubrey started. ‘Goodness, who can that be, so early in the day? Hetty, go and open the door. Slowly.’ Mrs Aubrey grabbed the mending out of Beth’s fingers, bundled it into the basket and pushed the basket under a chair in the darkest corner of the room. Then she scurried back to resume her seat, clasping her hands demurely in her lap.

Beth was hard put to keep her face straight.

‘The Earl of Portbury,’ Hetty announced, bobbing a curtsy.

He seemed much too large for the small family parlour.

Mrs Aubrey rose and dropped a tiny curtsy in response to her visitor’s elegant bow. ‘Master Jonathan! How kind of you to call. Will you take tea with us?’ He nodded. ‘Hetty, fetch another cup, if you please.’

He took a couple of paces into the room and bowed, separately, to Beth. She was suddenly so weak she could not even start to rise. Her body was remembering the feel of his arms around her, and softening, as if in anticipation. ‘Forgive me, my lord, I cannot-’

‘Pray do not attempt to move, Miss Aubrey. I am sure it took quite enough exertion for you to make your way downstairs this morning.’ He paused, frowning suddenly. Then, turning back to Mrs Aubrey, ‘Would you permit me to send over one of my footmen to help while Miss Aubrey is recovering? He could carry her up and down the stairs. And you could use him for any other convenient chores.’

‘Master Jonathan, I should not dream-’

He waved a dismissive hand. ‘You would be doing me a favour, ma’am. There are far too many servants at the Manor and, with only myself in residence, they do not have nearly enough to do. I cannot abide idleness.’

‘Well…’

‘Am I not to be consulted in this project of yours, my lord?’ Beth’s voice sounded sharp in her own ears, for she had overcome her weakness by stoking her anger against him. He was treating her like a parcel. She would not allow that.

He turned to look down at her. The very faintest tinge of redness had appeared on his cheeks. ‘I beg your pardon.’ His voice grew quieter. ‘It was not my intention to impose on you.’

She softened again, instantly. He had sounded arrogant, but he surely meant well. She had no right to let her inner turmoil betray itself in bad temper. ‘Your offer is most generous, my lord, but it is not necessary. My ankle is mending extremely well and the more I exercise it, the sooner I shall be fully recovered.’

‘Very well, ma’am.’ He made to sit down beside Mrs Aubrey.

‘And I would suggest,’ Beth continued, feeling increasingly in control of this unequal encounter, ‘that if your servants are underemployed, you should put them to work in the village. I am sure Mrs Aubrey can provide you with a long list of chores and repairs which need to be done.’

‘Beth! You go too far!’

‘No, ma’am. Miss Aubrey is quite right. I noticed yesterday, in spite of the storm, that some of the houses need urgent work. My agent has been most remiss in allowing such dilapidation. The repairs will be put in hand today.’ He took a cup of tea from Mrs Aubrey and rose politely to carry it across to Beth. ‘However, I fear I must disappoint Miss Aubrey. I doubt that my footmen have the inclination, or the skills, to carry them out.’

Beth took her tea with a demure nod and pursed lips. Was he roasting her? She hoped so. Strangers did not tease. But he had kept a totally straight face so she could not be sure. Until she was, she certainly must not laugh.

‘Do you remain at Fratcombe long, Master Jonathan?’ Mrs Aubrey poured his tea and handed it to him.

‘Not on this occasion, ma’am, though I expect to return again quite soon. It is a huge change, from the army in Spain to the English countryside, I may tell you. There, our duty was simple-to fight the enemy. Since my return, I have been reminded of my other duties. To my various estates, for example, and to my position in society.’ His voice grated, as if he was finding duty a hard taskmaster. Then, quite suddenly, he smiled warmly at the old lady in a way that transformed him. His face was softer, younger, and his eyes were dancing. ‘Here, at the rectory, I know that I am welcomed as just an unruly lad who happens to have grown up. A little.’

Mrs Aubrey nodded, trying not to return his smile, but she could not conceal her fondness for Jonathan.

Beth swallowed. A knot of anxiety formed in her stomach. He had had the run of the rectory when he was a boy. Did he intend to visit often, to renew his intimacy with the Aubreys? Oh dear. When he was relaxed like this, he was much too attractive. Soon, she would be dreaming of silver-clad knights again, and she must not! She could so easily betray herself. She must find some way of avoiding his company. It was the only solution.