The Duke's Christmas Greetings (Regency Christmas Summons Book 3)

by Rose Gordon

  “Grace.” Patience heaved a sigh. “Doctor Campion was just telling me how Ashes is getting along, and he is spoiling him quite unashamedly.”

  A wicked gleam flashed in Lady Grace’s eyes. “Poor Ashes. He probably thinks you abandoned him.”

  “I’m certain he misses you,” Matt said. “But we are keeping him entertained at Allwynds, not to worry.”

  “It’s a shame you can’t visit him yourself and reassure the little devil of your devotion to him.”

  Lady Grace just became Matt’s favorite of Patience’s two sisters. Knowingly or unknowingly, she’d given him the perfect opportunity to spend a little time with Patience, and not be under the duke’s watchful eye. “I, um, that is…You’re welcome to come visit him, my lady.”

  Patience pushed up to her feet beside Matt and grinned at her sister. “You won’t tell Mama where I’ve gone?”

  Lady Grace snorted. “I shouldn’t tell her that you were feeling so much better after your bandages were removed that you thought a ride would lift your spirits even more?”

  “What would I do without you?” Patience asked.

  “Be stuck at the castle when you could be at—” she glanced back at Matt “Where did you say again? All something?”

  “Allwynds,” he replied.

  “Yes, Allwynds,” Lady Grace added. “I’m sure you won’t be gone so long your presence would be noted, however.”

  “We won’t be too terribly long at all,” Patience vowed.

  Patience pulled the edges of her pelisse tighter as she followed Matt’s stallion atop one of His Grace’s borrowed mares. She hadn’t ventured at all beyond the walls of Danby Castle, but the terrain was beautiful, all blanketed in snow. It looked almost like a magical fairyland.

  Or perhaps everything just seemed more magical ever since she’d met Matt. Matt. She couldn’t help but smile at the sight of his greatcoat flapping in the wind. And cold as she was, the memory of holding his hand warmed her all the way to Allwynds, which truly was delightful. Or magical. It was the perfect cottage, not too big, not too small…just perfect.

  After leading the horses into Matt’s small stables, he quickly dismounted from his stallion and then turned to help her down from her borrowed mare. His dark eyes met hers as he smiled and his strong hands gripped her waist. Heat coursed through her, washing away the chill that had seeped into her bones during the ride.

  Matt lifted her from her horse, never taking his eyes from hers. “You are an excellent rider,” he said. “I didn’t realize how treacherous the terrain had become.”

  Patience smiled at the compliment. “I was raised in a saddle. My brothers are permanent figures on the racing circuit.”

  He offered her his arm and then led her quickly for the side door, snow crunching beneath their boots the whole way. “I wasn’t thinking properly or I’d have never put you in such danger. I am sorry, Patience.”

  She shook her head as he reached out to open his door, prepared to tell him that she was happy to have come when…

  …A sheet of snow from his roof slid over the edge crashing down onto both of them.

  Patience lost her balance and fell onto her bottom, her surprised scream drowned out by the snow that suddenly filled her lungs. Panicked, she started to cough, and then before she knew how it happened, Matt had scooped her up into his arms and raced her into his cottage.

  “Oh, Patience,” he said. “I’m so, so, sorry. Are you all right?”

  “Doctor Campion?” a woman asked, holding up a squash in her hands.

  Where were they? His kitchen? She’d never seen a kitchen before. She’d never had a man scoop her up in his arms before. She couldn’t help but stare up at his chiseled jaw and sigh.

  “Hot cider, please, Cook,” Matt said, rushing Patience into a hallway and then into a cozy parlor, where he gently placed her on a cushy settee and knelt before her. “Are you hurt?” he asked, panic in his voice as he ripped his gloves from his hands and touched them to her frozen cheeks.

  “I’m fine, Matt. Really.” Then she shook her head. “But I’ll leave a puddle of water on your settee when this snow melts if I don’t take this off.”

  He heaved a sigh of relief and raked a hand though his hair. “As long as you’re not hurt, I don’t care.”

  “I’m not hurt,” she promised. “Just cold.”

  “The cider will help when—”

  A tiny meow echoed from the doorway.

  Patience sucked in a breath and grinned. “Ashes!”

  The kitten meowed again and then jumped up on the settee beside her. He rubbed his head against her arm, but finding snow there, he sneezed and shook his head. She couldn’t help but laugh. “You don’t like snow, huh?”

  “Doctor Campion, is everything all right?” A portly woman bustled into the parlor, wringing her hands nervously.

  Matt pushed back to his feet. “Everything is fine, Mrs. Henderson.” He shrugged out of his snow-covered greatcoat and offered it to the woman. Then he tugged Patience’s hand, pulling her back to her feet. “Let’s get you out of your coat.”

  Patience began to unbutton her pelisse as Matt turned back to the portly woman.

  “Lady Patience came to visit her kitten, Mrs. Henderson, but an avalanche found us out of nowhere.”

  “Good heavens!” The woman’s eyes rounded.

  Patience finished with her buttons and Matt helped her slip her arms free from the coat, which was still covered in snow.

  “I asked Cook for some cider,” he said as he handed Patience’s pelisse to his servant.

  “Yes, of course, Doctor. I’ll go see about that now.”

  And then it was just the two of them…Well, the two of them and Ashes who meowed again. But Patience’s full attention was on her doctor who looked so concerned, her heart squeezed for him. To lighten the mood just a little, she glanced around the parlor. It really was cozy, especially with a lit fire in the hearth. It was nicely apportioned with a pair of comfortable looking chairs and a slightly damp chintz settee. There was an open book on a table with a lamp and a pipe on the bookshelf. She smiled at him. “I don’t picture you smoking a pipe.”

  A quizzical expression settled on his face. “I don’t. It was my father’s.”

  Hmm. “I don’t have anything of my father’s.” Other than the occasional thrill for adventure, however she thought the better of mentioning that. “Though Mama still keeps a miniature of him in her reticule at all times.”

  “She keeps it with her at all times?”

  Patience shrugged. “Grace says it’s to remember what he looked like, but Hope thinks Mama still misses him terribly and it’s a way to keep a part of him with her.”

  “And what do you think?” he asked, focusing those warm eyes of his on her.

  “I don’t know.” She shook her head. “Honestly, I don’t usually have any idea why my mother does anything, and I’m sure she feels the same way about me.”

  He smiled at that, as though he understood what she meant, and that warmth in her belly deepened. She hadn’t ever felt as though any man understood her in that way, not even her brothers whom she adored most of the time.

  Afraid he’d see her blush again, Patience glanced around the room once more. “You do have a lovely parlor.”

  He tilted his head to the side, an expression of disbelief settled on his face. “It’s nothing like Danby Castle.”

  Hardly! This parlor looked lived in. It looked as though it was loved and cherished and…Well, maybe a little magical. “It’s so much better.”

  “You can’t mean that.” He snorted, glancing around at his own walls, clearly not seeing the charm she saw, the touches of him throughout the room.

  Then with a bit of brazenness and urged on by that thrill of adventure, she slid closer to him and touched a finger to the back of his hand. “It’s perfect,” she promised.

  Matt intertwined his fingers with hers and tugged her even closer, his other hand coming to settle on her hip.
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  Then Matt’s warm eyes dropped to her lips and Patience’s breath hitched. “I’ve wanted to do this since the moment I met you.”

  Before she could even reply, he dipped his head down and gently pressed his lips to hers. Oh! She’d never experienced anything like that in her life. Her eyes fluttered closed, she slid her arms around his neck, and she kissed him back, breathing in the sandalwood scent of him, and as lost as she’d ever been.

  “Two mugs of cider,” Mrs. Henderson almost sang as she returned to the parlor. “Oh, my!”

  What awful timing his housekeeper had!

  Matt lifted his head and cast Patience an apologetic smile. Damn it all. “Just on the table please,” he said, releasing his hold on Patience and taking a step away from her, even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.

  “Yes, yes, of course.” His housekeeper hurried to the table he’d indicated and then bustled quickly from the parlor, looking quite embarrassed.

  Patience blushed slightly and then started for the table in question. She retrieved one of the mugs and then offered it up to him. “Matt,” she whispered.

  His gaze locked with hers and his heart expanded in his chest. Never in a million years would he have ever expected to find a lady as charming, as lovely, as kind standing in his parlor, looking at him as though he was her own personal Sir Galahad, and appearing so comfortable in his surroundings. Matt took the mug and then lifted it to his lips. The warmth took the chill from his bones, but it didn’t warm him nearly as well as Patience had.

  Once she had her own mug, he led her to one of his soft leather chairs. “Will your brothers leave Danby Castle in search of you?” he asked the question he probably should have asked before they departed, before he’d kissed her, before he’d gone and lost his mind.

  She dropped delicately onto the edge of the chair and grinned up at him. “Braden is back home at Highfield Park in Buckinghamshire. And Quent is in Cumberland with his new bride at his haunted castle. So you’re safe for now.”

  A haunted castle? “You don’t believe in ghosts?” he asked, as he didn’t believe in any such ridiculousness in the least.

  “I don’t think I did before I stayed a night at Marisdùn.” She took a sip of her cider as he found his own seat. “But now he’s had it blessed or something,” she continued with a shrug. “So they’re supposed to be safe. Honestly, I don’t know what’s happened there. It’s one of those things my brothers think we’d be better off not knowing.” Then she smiled at Ashes who had started to give himself a bath in the middle of the floor, and Matt smiled too. Such a lovely profile she had. So delicate, so feminine, a more beautiful sight he’d never seen.

  Still, he had gone and lost his mind. Stealing the duke’s great-niece from Danby Castle, racing along a treacherous terrain, nearly killing her at his own home in an avalanche and then inadvisably kissing her. If Danby had him strung up at the gallows, he’d deserve the punishment. But he wouldn’t change a thing.

  The kitten sneezed.

  “Oh!” Her eyes lit up. “Matt, my sister-in-law has the most curious condition.”

  “Well, she does live with ghosts,” he teased before taking another sip of his cider.

  “No, no, no.” Patience shook her head. “Not Lila. Callie, Braden’s wife. She’s expecting and…”

  “Do you find pregnancy a curious condition?” He couldn’t help but laugh.

  Her green eyes danced with merriment. “Will you let me finish?”

  He bit back a smile. “Apologies. Do continue.”

  “Ashes makes her sneeze.” She glanced back at the little kitten. “Whenever she’s near him she suffers the worst sort of sneezing attack. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

  He nodded. “It’s an asthmatic attack. It’s not uncommon. Many people suffer such things. But if she’s expecting, she shouldn’t be around Ashes at all, not if that’s her reaction to him.”

  Patience’s face fell. “Isn’t there some remedy? Something? Anything?”

  There were many things people had tried. Stramonium, Lohoch of Fox lungs, and Spirit of Hartshorn. But nothing Matt would recommend for a woman in her condition. So many times the cure was worse than the affliction. “I wish there was. I’m sorry.”

  “Well, is it because she’s expecting?” she asked, looking most pained. “I mean, if I managed to keep him away from her during the duration of her confinement, would she still have these asthmatic attacks? Or after she has the baby would…”

  “Her reaction to Ashes might be more pronounced during her pregnancy, but it wouldn’t disappear after she has her babe.”

  Patience’s shoulders slumped forward. “I don’t know what I’ll do then. I’ve been trying so hard to figure out a way to keep him. But if there’s no hope, Braden will never allow that.” She glanced back at Matt, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re certain there’s nothing we can do?”

  He wished there was. He wished there was something he could offer, something he could tell her that would dry her tears and wipe away her miserable expression. “There’s a physician from Saxony who’s written something on healing arts, but I don’t have a copy of the work and even if I did, I don’t read German.” And even then, the work was highly questionable.

  “So I’ll have to give up my kitten.” She swiped at a tear, and nearly broke Matt’s heart.

  He’d do nearly anything to keep her from crying. “I’ll keep him,” he offered, without thought. “I’ll…”

  She glanced up at him, the tiniest fragment of hope in her eyes. “I couldn’t ask you to do that.”

  “I don’t mind,” he said softly. And he didn’t, not really. Ashes was a scamp, but he’d grown on Matt. And the truth was, he’d do anything in his power to keep the enchanting Lady Patience Post from worry. “Perhaps you could visit from time to time and make certain he’s doing well,” he suggested, even though the idea was ludicrous. The duke’s great-niece wasn’t going to visit him in Yorkshire just to see her cat.

  Before she could respond to that, a loud banging came from the front door. “Doctor Campion, are you here?”

  It was a familiar voice. Mr. Gibson? The proprietor of the Sword and the White Rose? What in the world did the innkeeper need?

  A harried older man hobbled into the parlor, relying heavily on a cane for assistance, and Mrs. Henderson followed closely in his wake. “Oh, Campion, thank God,” the man heaved.

  “Good God.” Matt pushed to his feet. “What’s wrong, Gibson?”

  “Please hurry,” he said. “It’s Robby. He fell. His leg’s not right.”

  “Yes, of course.” Matt started for the threshold and then stopped suddenly. He looked back over his shoulder and his eyes met Patience’s. “Wait for me and I’ll return you to the castle as soon as I’m back.”

  Patience pushed to her feet as well. “I’ll come with you.” She certainly didn’t want to sit around his cottage, just waiting for him, not when she could be with him instead.

  He frowned slightly. “His Grace will have me hung if anything happens to you. It’s too dangerous out there.”

  The duke could care less about Patience, she was sure. “I’m coming, Matt.”

  “I brought the carriage,” the older fellow said. “I wanted to make sure you’d be able to bring anything you might need.”

  “See,” she smiled, her gaze never waiving from Matt’s, “plenty of room.” Then she turned her attention to his servant. “We’ll need both of our coats, Mrs. Henderson, while Doctor Campion retrieves his things.”

  A spark of admiration lit his eyes as he nodded and Patience felt it all the way to her toes. Then he started from the room as Mrs. Henderson went to grab their coats. Patience smiled at the older man who looked very distraught. “How did Robby fall?” she asked, stepping towards him. Not that she had any idea who Robby was, or who Mr. Gibson was for that matter, but it seemed like the thing to ask.

  “We were hanging greenery in the taproom.” He winced. “The boys were tr
ying to out do each other. See who could hang it the highest.” He shook his head, looking truly anguished. “I should’ve put a stop to it. But they were having so much fun and…”

  Patience squeezed his arm. “I’m certain Doctor Campion will be able to help him.”

  Mr. Gibson nodded in agreement. “Best doctor we’ve had in these parts, Miss…”

  “She’s Lady Patience Post, one of His Grace’s relations,” Matt said, re-emerging into the room, carrying a large black bag. “And she really should stay here and wait for me.”

  She probably should. But she didn’t want to be away from him. Besides, she could make herself useful. “We’ve already settled that, Doctor.”

  “Ah, I see that Whitton stubborn streak,” Mr. Gibson said. “Makes for a strong character.”

  “Here are your coats,” the housekeeper called from the corridor. “I hung them by the stove and most of the dampness is gone.”

  Matt was about to insist she stay one more time, she could see it in his eyes. So Patience hurried into the corridor and retrieved her pelisse before he could mutter the words she didn’t want to hear. She slid her coat on, buttoned it up and stared right out the front door with Matt and Mr. Gibson following behind her.

  A young coachman scrambled from the box, a very young coachman. He was more than a few years younger than Patience, which was something she’d never seen. “Thank you, Doctor Campion,” the lad said, opening the coach door.

  “Good God, Timmy!” Matt gasped. “What are you doing driving this thing?”

  “Grandpa’s been teaching Robby and me. I’m real good. We won’t slip off the road or anything.”

  Patience hurried into the old coach and settled against the thinnest set of squabs she’d ever seen. She glanced around the coach and thought perhaps it might have been in use during the Reformation, or it might have already been retired by that time. It was anyone’s guess.