The Marquess's Christmas Runaway

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by Josie Bonham


  Chapter Sixteen

  Max woke up with a start. Had he left Georgie sobbing? It sounded like it before she threw the covers over her face. He never had known what to do with a crying girl. She must be exhausted with all that had happened to her. Conscience pricked at him. She was too intelligent not to realise he had suddenly been assailed by doubts about her. Those doubts seemed ridiculous with daylight streaming in through the windows. He must have been overtired himself. She’d told him before that her instinct was to hide until she reached her twenty first birthday. Hiring a coach at the inn would have been far too public an action.

  He jumped out of bed and threw on his banyan. The view from the window showed that the snow was starting to melt. Big chunks were hanging to the edges of branches leaving splashes of brown behind. He wandered around unable to move his thoughts away from Georgie. Where was Jepson? Perhaps it had been an extremely good party in the servant’s hall. No matter how many times he told Jepson to rest downstairs until hearing the bell, he was always waiting in the dressing room when he awoke. Was he too stern an employer?

  There was a knock at the main bedroom door and Jepson entered with a tray containing a coffee pot, two cups and plates of fresh smelling bread with a mixture of preserves.

  “Martha tells me Her Ladyship is still in her room, my lord. I took the liberty of bringing up a breakfast tray for you.”

  Max suppressed a grin. Trust Jepson to know what was best to do. Martha must have told him her mistress seemed upset last night.

  “Thank you, Jepson. You may have some time off. I’ll ring the bell when I have need of you.”

  Jepson placed the tray on a side table and bowed his way out.

  Max picked up the tray. He was across the room to the connecting door in a few swift strides. There was no answer to his knock. He hesitated for a moment before pushing the door open. He held his breath until he saw Georgie still asleep in the big four poster bed that looked far too big for her small frame. He was about to tiptoe out when she opened her eyes and smiled at him. Relief ran through him with a jolt. If he had upset her last night she didn’t look as if she was going to hold it against him.

  He set the tray down on a side table and pulled it near to the bed.

  “Jepson thought we might like to breakfast alone this morning.” He held his breath until Georgie smiled at him again. Perhaps he had imagined those sobs?

  “I’m famished. Jepson is a treasure. How long has he been with you?”

  “His family were tenants of the estate. He wanted to go into the army but there is something wrong with his feet. He can’t do too a great deal of walking so he had to find other employment. My father had him trained as a valet.”

  Max sat on the bed and picked up the coffee pot. The bread was still warm from the oven. They demolished all of it. He shot a glance at Georgie from under his brows. She seemed quite composed this morning. He moved the table away from the bed and sat beside her. She seemed inclined to ignore what had been said the night before and he was happy to follow her lead. He took her hand and ran a thumb around her palm, remembering the effect it usually had on her. She shuddered and leaned backwards exposing the white flesh above her nightgown. The overlarge gown had slipped off the shoulder nearest to him.

  He ran a series of light kisses from her shoulder and up her neck to her ear. He heard a soft moan but she didn’t move towards him as she usually did. Perhaps she was tired and didn’t want intimacy this morning? With an effort he held himself in check.

  “Georgie, would you like me to join you in bed? I’ll understand if you’re too tired.”

  She looked away from him and for a moment he thought she was going to refuse him. Then she caught his gaze. He could lose himself in those shimmering grey eyes.

  “Of course, I would, Max.”

  Was he imagining it or had she hesitated? He ached with passion but should he ask her again? She ran her tongue around her lips and he was lost. His banyan landed in a heap on the floor and he slipped under the covers into the space she made for him. His mouth found hers and after a brief hesitation she responded to his kisses. Their coupling was a welcome release for him and yet even as he collapsed by her side, sleepy with spent passion, he knew something was missing.

  It was almost as if she was holding herself in check. Her exuberant enjoyment, which had delighted him so much, was gone. Perhaps she had a headache or something of that nature? She had her back turned to him. He rolled so that he was cradling her with his body and put his arm around her waist. She gave a little sigh that he wanted to believe was contentment. Then he remembered that her nightgown, which had ended up on top of his banyan on the floor, wasn’t one of the ones he had given her. Was the shimmering effect in her heavenly, grey eyes he’d been entranced by caused by unshed tears? Oh Lord, he had upset her. What could he do to make it up to her?

  He woke up an hour later when Georgie climbed out of bed. She smiled at him and seemed perfectly happy. He reclaimed his banyan and saw that she was wearing one of the dressing gowns he had bought her. Perhaps he was imagining things. She might have simply been sleepy. He offered to have Jepson order a hot bath for her and she accepted.

  For once Jepson wasn’t in his rooms so he rang his bell. Jepson came in a few minutes later together with a footman carrying his hot water for shaving. Max sent the footman back downstairs with orders to organise hot water for a bath for Georgie. Jepson seemed quieter than usual.

  “Was it a good party last night, Jepson?”

  “Tolerable, my lord.”

  Max eyed him carefully. “Are you feeling quite the thing?”

  “I’m very well, thank you. I had no more than a glass of port.”

  Max nodded and allowed Jepson to shave him. He was certainly a lot quieter than normal. Perhaps he’d drunk more than he liked to admit to. Jepson laid out an outfit for him and he dressed quickly. He ran lightly down the stairs and into the breakfast room, in search of something more substantial than bread and coffee.

  Eliza and Nat were the only people in there, which was a relief. “Where is everybody?”

  The boys have all gone sledging before the snow disappears. I think the whole family breakfasted early with them,” Eliza said.

  Max piled his plate with ham and eggs and sat down opposite to them. Nat handed him a still warm coffee pot.

  “Thank you. It’s a relief to have a quiet breakfast.”

  Nat and Eliza exchanged glances.

  “Sally was saying that the boys would like to go back home after today if the roads are passable,” Eliza said. “The idea was to come back for twelfth night if you agreed.”

  Max laughed out loud. “Don’t tell me my family are developing some tact after all these years.”

  Nat and Eliza joined in. “Surprising isn’t it. I think it was largely down to Rollo wanting to go back to Canterbury to meet up with his friends but Sally did say it would be better if we all went to give you two some peace.”

  Max raised an eyebrow at her. “Does that mean you’re leaving as well?”

  “That’s the plan.” Eliza looked around the room but they were alone. “The only thing is will Georgie be alright managing Mrs Powell on her own?”

  The door was slightly ajar. Max walked across and checked the hallway but there was no sign of any servants about. He shut the door before sitting down again.

  “That is something of a problem but it will only be for a few days. I can’t for the life of me think why Cook recommended Mrs Powell to me. But it does mean I’ll have to be tactful about how I go about turning Mrs Powell off. I would hate to lose Cook as well.”

  Eliza grimaced. “That’s true, although Mrs James has been at Hargreaves Hall since she was first in service. I don’t think she’s likely to leave over it. Georgie was worried about dismissing Mrs Powell straight away. She’s probably right about it being best left for a bit.”

  Max nodded. “She said that did she? If the thaw holds, I mean to take Georgie straight up to London
after Twelfth Night. I’m sure she’ll enjoy putting Hargreaves House to rights.” He hesitated and Eliza finished for him.

  “You’re thinking to take Mrs Mills into your confidence?”

  “Yes. She wrote to me before Christmas to say she thought the time was coming for her to retire fully.”

  “Ah. She can help you find a new housekeeper without causing comment. You’re becoming amazingly good at plotting, dear brother.”

  Max gave her a mock bow, largely to cover his confusion. Was Georgie worried about causing unfavourable comment or was she keen not to upset Mrs Powell for some reason? She had been wary of her right from the start and he only had her word for the reason for that. Suddenly the opportunity he had yearned for to spend time alone with Georgie didn’t seem so appealing. If there was something that she wasn’t telling him he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. Eliza was watching him closely and he caught himself up.

  “If we can get Hargreaves House into shape quickly enough, I might offer Sally the chance to combine Cecilia’s come out ball with a ball to introduce Georgie to the ton. What do you think?”

  Eliza screwed up her nose in thought. “It hasn’t been used for a long time but Mrs Mills will have kept it in reasonable shape. It’s got one of the best ballrooms in London. Sally’s is nowhere near as big. See what she thinks but it could be a good idea.”

  Max nodded. “That just leaves the worry of that disturbance at the church before the wedding. Now the snow is melting it won’t be so easy to keep a look out for strangers entering the grounds.”

  “Ah, I’ve had a message from the groom who is tracking those two.” Nat said. “They’ve set off in the direction of London. My man will follow them and see what he can find out. He’ll report to Bright as soon as he’s back at our London house. We’ll go to London as soon as we can.”

  “That’s reassuring, but could there be more men about?”

  “He’s confident there were only two. They were quite well dressed, perhaps they were sent to try and stop the ceremony. Let’s hope he doesn’t lose them and we might find out.”

  “If Selina was prepared to go to that sort of length then she’s more of a threat than I realised.” Max stroked his chin.

  “I think you’re safe for now, but take sensible precautions. Don’t go out without protection and when you go to London make sure you take an armed guard with you.”

  Eliza’s hands flew to her face. “Surely Selina isn’t a danger. I mean half the time she’s just been after money to bail Bertie out.”

  “It’s amazing what people are prepared to do for money and position.” Max’s shoulders slumped. “Let’s hope it was a false alarm.”

  ***

  Georgie watched as Martha sprinkled lavender into the tub. She stepped out of her robe and climbed into the soothing water. Martha stoked up the fire and went into the dressing room to select a gown. Not that there was much choice yet. Georgie lay back and let the heat of the water soak into her. She still had a headache but the smell of the lavender helped to relax her and she could feel it lifting.

  Max could be so thoughtful. He seemed more like his normal self this morning. Perhaps things would be alright between them once they got to know each other better. It would break her heart if they weren’t. She stretched trying to release the sudden tension in her body. Max was becoming far too important to her sense of wellbeing. She was already a little in love but it would be safer to keep her distance until she was sure of him. She laughed. She may as well try and hold back the tides.

  When she arrived downstairs the adults were all gathered in the drawing room. The men stood up as she entered. Max came forward to greet her. Was it her imagination or did he look a bit strained?

  “How do you feel now, Georgie?” He sounded concerned.

  “Much better thank you. The headache that has been bothering me since yesterday has disappeared.”

  Max seemed to relax. “Good. It’s time to distribute the Christmas boxes amongst the staff.”

  She greeted the others and set off with Max for the servants’ hall. The staircase down to the servants’ quarters was a good width and well lit, quite a contrast with the one in Cousin Mary’s house. All the servants were lined up waiting for them. Martha gave her a shy smile, quickly suppressed when Mrs Powell’s gaze alighted on them.

  A footman followed them down with a large money box. Georgie watched, intrigued, as Max opened it to reveal tidy rows of envelopes. She leaned closer and noticed each one had a name on it. It must have taken ages for someone to make all those. Max greeted the staff and asked Georgie to be ready to hand each envelope out. He worked methodically through each name. Some of the younger staff looked desperate to open theirs. Georgie smiled at each one as she handed the envelope over. She was gratified at the number of servants who gave her an answering smile.

  Eventually Max dismissed all the servants apart from Barton and Mrs Powell. He took out the last two envelopes, which were larger than the rest. Georgie took a deep breath and handed Mrs Powell hers. She managed to produce a smile but was rewarded with an insolent glare. She kept her features firmly fixed. Barton came forward and her smile became sincere. He bowed and smiled back at her.

  “Thank you, my lady. May I say how good it is to have the old tradition of the mistress of the house handing out the Christmas boxes revived?”

  Georgie inclined her head. “Thank you.”

  “I agree with you, Barton,” Max said. “I’m sure the whole household is glad to have a mistress again. Thank you both for all your hard work, over Christmas and throughout the year. Now we had better get back to our guests.”

  Georgie accepted the arm Max held out to her. She glimpsed a disgusted expression cross Mrs Powell’s face. It was so fleeting, she almost wondered if she had imagined it, but she knew she hadn’t. Max led her back up the stairs. When they reached the hall he drew her towards a sofa near to the fire burning in the hearth. There was a spicy tang in the air from the thin branches of pine wrapped around the oak yule log at its heart.

  “I own several properties but Hargreaves Hall has always been my favourite, perhaps because my mother loved it too. It’s the place I always think of as home and I expect we will spend a bigger part of the year here than anywhere else.”

  Max leaned back and stretched an arm along the sofa behind her. There was no one about and Georgie wondered why he didn’t put it around her shoulders. She turned so that she could see his face. He looked relaxed enough, if a little stern.

  “It is lovely here. This part of the building must be quite old.”

  “Yes, it is. Various Hargreaves have added to the original Hall over the centuries but I think that’s part of its charm. My mother loved the history but she was a kinder mistress than many from previous generations.” He lowered his voice. “The previous housekeeper, Mrs Mills, was here from before I was born. She’s a more congenial soul than Mrs Powell.”

  Georgie laughed. “That wouldn’t be difficult.”

  Max’s answering smile seemed strained. “No indeed. Mrs Powell certainly doesn’t seem to like you.”

  Georgie felt a blush flood her cheeks. She lowered her head and stared into the fire. “I suppose the manner of my arrival was rather unconventional but she shows no sign of warming to me.”

  Max sighed. “No. At times, her manner to you just now seemed insolent. Mrs Mills is in semi-retirement at Hargreaves House in London. It hasn’t been used by the family in years.”

  Georgie glanced at him in surprise. “I thought you were in London quite often?”

  “I am but I have a smaller property my father bought for me when I came of age. I propose we move to London straight after Christmas. Do you have any objection?”

  “No, of course not, if that’s what you wish.” Would it make any difference if she did?

  He stared at her for a moment and then seemed satisfied. “Good. I propose we enlist Mrs Mill’s help in finding a new housekeeper suitable for here.”

  Georg
ie nodded. “Is Mrs Mills thinking of retiring completely?”

  “Yes, she is. I see you’ve worked out my reasoning. People will think Mrs Mills is looking for someone to replace her. Whoever you select with her help can spend some time in tandem with Mrs Mills and if you’re still happy with her we’ll offer her the position here.”

  Peter came running down the stairs with a panting maid trying to catch up with him. Max’s face lit up.

  “Peter, apologise to your nursemaid for running away from her.”

  “But, Uncle Max, I don’t need a nursemaid now I’m wearing breeches.”

  “Apologise, Peter.” Max’s voice deepened a little.

  Peter hung his head. “I’m sorry.”

  “That’s better.” Max addressed the nursemaid. “Don’t worry. I’ll look after this young scamp until his parents claim him.”

  She smiled and bobbed a curtsey. “Thank you, my lord. I’ll go and see to Miss Judith.”

  He moved away from Georgie and lifted Peter to sit between them. Georgie felt her insides knot together. The fear of not providing Max with an heir she had forgotten about briefly hit her anew. She heard a trill of laughter and Eliza hobbled into view. Nat had an arm around her waist helping her to walk. They looked so happy with each other that Georgie felt the knot in her insides twist tighter. Would she and Max ever achieve such a comfortable rapport?

  “There you are, Peter,” Eliza said. “Nurse said you don’t want to leave Hargreaves Hall, but we’ll be coming back for the Twelfth Night party.”

  “Want to stay here.”

  Nat bent down and scooped up his son. “I’m sorry, old man, we have to go home for a few days.”

  “Why can’t I stay without you?”

  Nat and Eliza exchanged grins. “We need you with us,” Nat said.

  Max stood up. “If you’re a good boy I’ll take you somewhere special when you come to London.”

  Peter looked from Max to his parents with his mouth hanging open. “We’re going to London?”

 

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