by Cheryl Bolen
He released his grip on her coat and stood staring at her. “How could you not think you were important to me?”
Chapter 5
Mary’s heart sank. She had been waiting patiently for weeks until Hugh had left for Scotland so she could quietly pack her things and leave the university. Her earlier relief at his departure was now crushed by seeing him standing before her. The look of angry disappointment on his face added to her woes.
She had hoped to avoid this conversation until after Christmas, because knowing Hugh and his ingrained sense of justice, she had a strong inkling as to how he would react to the news that she was now living in a boarding house.
She straightened her back and steeled herself for the inevitable conversation. “I have taken a room at number sixty-two Market Street, and I plan to tutor students from there during each college term,” she replied, nodding toward the green door of her new lodgings.
His eyes narrowed. She could almost hear his brain processing her words. When he looked at the bag containing all her worldly goods which she clutched in her hands, Mary held her breath.
“But they threw you out? Put you on the street without a thought for your future?” he said.
“Not in so many words, but yes, I was asked to vacate the rooms. The new professor will be coming sometime after Christmas,” she replied.
Hugh’s face darkened. “Your father gave the university thirty-three years of faithful service, and yet they cannot even see their way to allow his daughter to remain in the only home she has ever known. And to top it all off, it is Christmas!” he said.
Mary sensed one of Hugh’s rants about the spirit of Christmas and the true meaning of the holy celebration was imminent. When she saw Charles Alexandre climb down from the coach, holding his infant son in his arms, she almost cheered. No matter how angry he was, Hugh would not dare make a scene in public, and especially not in front of his family.
She was wrong.
Hugh immediately turned to his brother-in-law. “Do you know what those cads at the university have done, the week before Christmas?” he said.
Charles looked from Hugh to Mary, then down at his sleeping son. He stopped and kept his distance a yard or so away.
“They have thrown her out!” bellowed Hugh.
Charles took a step back. “Yes, you had already mentioned that. I might just leave this to my wife.”
Charles retreated back toward the peaceful sanctuary of the coach. Adelaide’s head appeared in the doorway and the couple exchanged a few brief words. Even from where she stood, Mary could see that the news of her changed abode had not been well received. Bless the Radley family and their need to preserve the sanctity of Christmas.
Adelaide hurried down from the coach and marched over to where Hugh and Mary stood.
“Is it true? They have evicted you?” asked Adelaide.
Mary lifted her travel bag and held it close against her stomach. Hugh and Adelaide were her friends, but even as they both rose in her defense, she felt the need for protection. “Yes. No. I mean. Oh.”
If she didn’t take the heat out of the moment, the pot was about to boil over. She had a vivid image of both Hugh and Adelaide marching up to the faculty dean and giving him a piece of their collective mind. Charles and Will would no doubt be pressganged into service to support the cause.
Mary took a deep breath and summoned her courage. The last thing she needed was for the Radley siblings to stir up a fight with the head of the school whose students she was relying upon to make her future living.
“They asked me to vacate some months ago. I dillydallied about it until they were forced to send me a second letter earlier this month. It is all my fault I am having to make the change so close to Christmas,” she said.
The truth was, she had ignored much of what had happened during the year; her father’s sudden passing left her numb to nearly everything other than the absolute necessities of marking overflow exam papers, some sleep, and bringing Hugh his supper each night. She had not had the strength to consider leaving the only home she had ever known. To know that she would no longer be counted as a member of the university family was beyond her grief-clouded mind.
Adelaide, bless her, was having none of it. While Hugh seemed to have calmed down a notch, his sister was just getting riled up.
“So, what you are saying is that you will be spending Christmas alone in a boarding house room with no family,” said Adelaide.
Mary clutched the bag tighter to herself, suddenly feeling very alone in the world. She should have written to her mother’s family in Devon and asked to visit for Christmas. Not that she actually knew them, but still, she chided herself for the oversight.
“Hugh, take Mary’s travel bag. Mary, come with us and get into the coach. You are coming to Scotland. We will not allow you to spend Christmas on your own.”
Words of feeble protest struggled to her lips, but when Mary saw Hugh’s tight-set jaw as he stepped forward and took a hold of the bag, she knew they would be to no avail. She released her grip on the travel bag, giving him a wan smile as he tucked it under his arm.
“Good. That is settled. When we return after Christmas, I shall have a word with the dean,” he said.
Mary followed Adelaide and Hugh back to the coach. As she took her seat inside, Charles leaned forward. “You weren’t seriously thinking that they were going to let you spend Christmas on your own, were you? The Radley family’s Christmas motto is that no one gets left behind.”
“Unless of course you are a bloody stubborn duke,” muttered Adelaide.
Chapter 6
With Mary now on board the travel coach, and Hugh’s missing book safely in his hands, they set out across country to meet the Great North Road and continue their journey to Scotland.
While Adelaide and Mary were making polite conversation about the baby and how well he was doing, Hugh was lost in his own thoughts, most of which consisted of him raging at himself. By the time they made their final stop for the day at the Bell Inn in Stilton, he had worked himself into such a foul mood that he cried off supper and went for a long walk instead.
With his hands stuffed deep into the pockets of his greatcoat, he trudged through the snow-covered streets of the town. There were only so many ways a man could be angry with himself, but Hugh Radley was determined to work his way through the list. He passed several taverns on the road and was tempted to go inside and have a pint, but he knew he would need more than alcohol to take the edge off his self-loathing.
The walk finally began to have its desired effect and his mood lifted. As he turned and started to head back to the inn, his thoughts returned to Mary. It was a relief to know that she would not be spending Christmas on her own, that she was coming to Scotland with him. He had much to atone for when it came to her.
Mary had not only been dealing with grief over the death of her father, but the impending loss of her home. He, meanwhile, had been so preoccupied with his final exams and career progression that he had failed to see what was happening under his very nose. He had not been there for her when she needed a friend.
“And to top it all off, you forgot to get her a Christmas present. Hugh Radley you are a selfish blackguard,” he muttered.
Back at the inn, he found Charles rugged up in a greatcoat and seated in front of an open fire outside in the rear mews, his back against the wall of the stables. His head was buried in a newspaper. He didn’t look up until Hugh sat down beside him.
Hugh glanced at the newspaper. It was the L’Ami du Peuple; a radical popular newspaper from Paris. With the French king in custody, and the whole of France in turmoil, émigrés such as Charles were constantly in search of news from their homeland.
“What is happening in France?” asked Hugh.
Charles folded the paper up and sat it on his lap. While his hands remained steady, his boot was tapping hard on the stone ground. He sighed. “They have given all French citizens who are living abroad a deadline to return home or f
orfeit any land that they hold in France. I shall have to sell everything I own within the next twelve months or lose it all. I tell you, Hugh, France is going to hell.”
For the second time that day, Hugh was sharply reminded that the world did not revolve around his studies or himself. Charles had been an open supporter of King Louis, but with the king and his family now under arrest, Charles dared not return home. His brother-in-law was trapped in exile in England.
Charles pulled two cheroots from his pocket and lit them using a lighted taper from the fire. He handed one to Hugh.
“I’m sorry, Charles. It must be so hard to be this close to home but know that you cannot risk going back.”
“If it was only me, I might chance it, but I have a wife and a child to consider now. I would never put Adelaide through that sort of worry, knowing that I might never return. People have started disappearing in France, and I have a feeling that we are only just at the beginning of something terrible,” he said.
Hugh drew back deeply on his cheroot, then held the smoke in his mouth for a moment before pushing it out with his tongue. A pale gray smoke ring formed and hung in the still night air. Charles snorted his appreciation of the trick.
“Astuce,” he said.
Hugh settled back against the stone wall of the stables. It was good to be headed home to Scotland. He had missed Christmas the previous year, being too busy with exams and preparation for his last year at university, and he had spent the last twelve months regretting it.
“I hope you didn’t mind Adelaide and I inviting Mary to come with us. We both got a little riled up over her having to find a new home after all those years living at the university,” he said.
Charles was a decent man, his calm nature a balm to his wife’s sometime skittish behavior. His sister had chosen her partner in life wisely.
“Is that what you are telling yourself? That the only reason you raced after Mary in the middle of Cambridge was out of some sense of righting an injustice? Please, let me know when you actually start to believe that coq et taureau story,” replied Charles.
Hugh didn’t answer. He could proclaim his actions were all in aid of a young woman unfairly treated, but they both knew there was more to it than that. He and Adelaide could have gone to speak with the dean before leaving Cambridge; matters could have been resolved. But that would have left Mary still in Cambridge, and he on the road to Scotland.
He drew back once more on the cheroot, silently grateful when Charles opened his newspaper once more and went back to reading.
Today had been a day of unexpected revelations. He’d experienced genuine fear when he discovered that Mary had been evicted from her home. Of greater concern was the fact that she had not confided in him. That she had decided her own overwhelming problems were too insignificant to share.
That she somehow thought he didn’t care.
“How long are you planning to stay at Strathmore Castle?” asked Charles.
“Christmas, then Hogmanay, finally finishing up on Handsel Monday.” Hugh counted the days out on his fingers. If they arrived on the twenty-third of December, then stayed to Handsel Monday on the seventeenth, he would have just under a month in Scotland.
He wanted to get back to England earlier, but knew his older brother, Ewan, would insist he stay for the annual handing over of gifts to all the castle staff on Handsel Monday.
“I will be leaving early on the eighteenth of January,” he replied.
Charles nodded. “Well, dear brother, you may think you have plenty of time in which to sort out the Mary Gray situation on your own. But I would counsel you to make haste if you want the decision to be yours alone.”
Hugh understood the underlying meaning of his brother-in-law’s words. The previous year, the dowager duchess, Lady Alison, and Great Aunt Maude had shamelessly played cupid. On Christmas Day, the Duke of Strathmore had made Lady Caroline Hastings his wife.
Knowing his mother and great aunt, as soon as they set eyes on Mary, they would be looking to replicate their success. Two Christmases; two weddings. He couldn’t fault the logic. He wouldn’t be disappointed if indeed that was what transpired, but only if Mary was willing to take a chance with her heart.
Hugh broke off the burning end of his cheroot, and after butting it out in a small patch of snow, he put the remainder in his coat pocket. He got to his feet.
“I shall bid you a good night, Charles,” he said.
“I won’t be long out here. Adelaide is settling William down, and I shall go up to our room shortly. Good night, Hugh.”
Hugh snorted. Charles would do anything to avoid being exposed to the smell of his son’s soiled linen clout before bedtime.
As he walked back into the inn and sought the warmth of his bed, Hugh Radley was struck with a thought. Earlier in the day he had sent prayers to heaven about finding his book and they had been answered. With the unexpected addition of Mary to the group headed for Scotland, perhaps another of his longtime entreaties had finally been heard.
Chapter 7
Mary looked at the price tag on the long emerald and blue scarf and put it back on the table. It was beautifully made, the thread around its edges no doubt real gold. The silk scarf was worth more than the cost of all the clothes on her back.
“That’s nice. It suits you—it matches your enchanting green eyes.”
Mary saw the smile on Adelaide’s face. Her remark about Mary’s looks was the latest in a slowly growing list of small kind ones Adelaide had been offering since they’d left Cambridge.
Mary nodded, then turned to look at another shelf of goods in the shop.
They were in High Street, Edinburgh, along the Royal Mile, undertaking a morning of shopping before leaving on the last leg of their journey to Strathmore Castle.
Mary wasn’t particularly interested in shopping; the small number of coins in her possession had all been earmarked for living expenses. She could not risk spending money on non-essential items until she had managed to secure a regular group of students in need of her tutoring. Building that client base, however, would take time. And in the meantime, she still needed to pay rent and feed herself.
Still, it was good to be out of the travel coach. Three days from Cambridge to Edinburgh in even a spacious coach, such as the one hired by Charles Alexandre, had played havoc with her back and hips.
Hugh had not helped matters either, constantly asking her how she was to survive going forward. Making lists of people he would speak to on her behalf at the college to get her old living quarters back. Then a shorter list of people he would speak to if his first overtures failed. By the time he had finished mentioning yet again that his brother was the Duke of Strathmore and his brother-in-law the Duke of Mowbray, Mary had developed a headache which lasted two whole days.
She quietly chided herself. At least she wasn’t spending Christmas alone in the bedsit of a boarding house. Hugh and the Alexandres had no connection to her beyond mere friendship, and they were under no obligation to render her assistance. She should be grateful that they wanted to help at all.
“So where else do you have in mind to visit today?” asked Mary.
Adelaide shrugged. It was the first day she had let Charles take their son off her hands for more than an hour. Mary had noted that every so often, Adelaide would look down at her empty arms and sigh. She was missing her baby.
“We will be leaving early tomorrow for Strathmore Castle, so if you wish to walk the street at the bottom of Edinburgh Castle and wander into a few more shops, I can meet you back at the inn in time for supper. I have a private errand to undertake in the meantime; I have something to collect,” replied Adelaide.
Having never visited Scotland before, Mary was keen to take in a few more of the sights of the great city of Edinburgh. There was every chance she may not get the opportunity again.
With Adelaide off on her secret mission, Mary was surprised as to how quickly she welcomed the time alone. The one thing she did not welcome, however
, was the biting wind which pierced her coat. Cambridge was cold in winter, but a thick scarf and her trusty red coat had seen her through the worst of the chilly days. Here in Scotland, her English attire failed against the onslaught of an icy Scottish breeze. Standing outside a drapery, peering in through the window, she hugged herself in an effort to stay warm.
“Stockings—that is what I need. Thick wool ones,” she muttered.
Hugh dropped the last of his Christmas gifts into his leather satchel and gave himself a silent cheer. “Ewan, Caroline, David, Mama, Great Aunt Maude, Adelaide, Charles, and William. Not that the baby will actually do anything with his gift, but it’s the thought that counts,” he said.
His Christmas shopping was complete. At the bottom of the satchel lay two other gifts. One was a special Christmas present for Mary, the other a small box.
It was the item inside the small box which had taken Hugh most of the morning to choose. He had thought to ask Adelaide’s opinion, but decided it was best if he kept his own counsel. He had already failed Mary enough times without adding the pressure of his family’s expectations to her worries.
When the time was right, he would speak to her.
Stepping out into High Street, he turned in the direction of the inn and began to walk. His morning had been a success. Apart from all the gifts, he had also bought two new bottles of black writing ink and some extra parchment. He had even remembered to get the small silk bags that Ewan had requested for giving coins to the castle staff on Handsel Monday.
He was quietly pleased with himself; for once he was organized for Christmas. He did, however, make a mental note to write out a long list once he got back to the inn—just in case he had stayed true to form and forgotten something of importance.
Crossing over High Street, he spied McNally’s sweet shop. His stomach rumbled at the thought of Scottish tablet, and he made a beeline for the front door.