Ghost of Christmas Past

by King, Rebecca

  “I will be back within the hour,” he murmured solemnly and watched her nod her acceptance.

  After a quick bow, he took his leave and strode to the door with determined strides. As he swept out of the house and mounted his horse he sighed with relief at just how well their first meeting had gone. He would of course have preferred to have been there to impart better tidings but there was nothing he could do about that now. At least she was back in his life. All he had to do now was keep her.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As promised, Rupert returned an hour later. Thea watched as the large carriage drew to a stop directly outside the front door. Her bags had been hastily thrown together and now stood in the hallway downstairs. She knew that it would be at least a month before she was able to return, longer if John was more seriously wounded than Rupert had told her, and had spent much of the last hour issuing orders to Agatha and Bertie. She threw one last look at her room before she made her way downstairs.

  Rupert watched her descend the narrow steps and waited. Her long hair was swept up into an elegant knot at the top of her head. Small curls bobbed gaily around her pale cheeks. Her beautiful face had a decidedly healthy glow that assured him that although she still limped ever so slightly, she had made an excellent recovery over the last four years.

  He realised that he was staring at her again and gave himself a mental shake to get on with the job at hand. The coachman was busy loading boxes and trunks into the back of the carriage and that left Rupert free to hold a hand out to Thea so that he could escort her to the carriage steps to where Agatha and Bertie were waiting to say goodbye.

  “Is that everything, Thea?” He nodded to the housekeeper once the hugs and last minute instructions were given, and helped her into the luxurious confines of the carriage with great tenderness.

  Thea settled onto the seat and took far too long smoothing her skirts out, but she needed a moment to steady herself. Her hands trembled slightly from the almost proprietary way Rupert had taken over. She nudged aside the large baskets of food and froze in the process of removing her gloves when she realised that he had followed her inside. The interior of the carriage suddenly seemed incredibly small and she found herself shrinking back against the squabs as she eyed him warily.

  “I don’t mean to pry Thea, but I need to ask you something important.”

  Thea felt her stomach tighten with nerves and nodded when words failed her.

  “How uncomfortable are your legs? I mean, will we need to stop at frequent intervals so that you can get out and walk around?” While he spoke he studied her face closely for any sign of reluctance to talk about her injuries but couldn’t see anything in the beautiful blue orbs than quiet contemplation.

  “Do you know something? I don’t really know. I have only ever travelled from Bainbridge to here. At the time I was still in considerable pain so we had to stop many, many times so that I could take laudanum to ease the discomfort. I haven’t really travelled very far since, apart from to town and back of course.”

  Rupert nodded and remembered John mentioning that he had invited Thea to visit him many times but she had refused to leave Leicestershire. “Then we will carry on until you wish to stop. I would like to travel throughout the night if I may but that would mean you will have to sleep in the carriage. Although there will be the need for changes of horses, if we don’t stop then we will be in London in a couple of days.”

  “That’s fine,” Thea assured him a little too loudly. “I really want to get to my uncle. He needs me and I have to be there for him.”

  Rupert nodded in understanding. “If you grow too uncomfortable, don’t suffer through it. I don’t want you arriving in London tired and in pain or your uncle will have more to worry about than he needs to.” He gave in to the need to touch her and stroked the softness of one cheek with the back of one finger and gave her a gentle smile before he left the carriage and stood back to hand Tilly in.

  She watched him mount his horse with effortless grace and almost sighed as the carriage suddenly lurched into action and he disappeared from sight. She barely had the opportunity to wave to Agatha and Bertie before the house too disappeared from view and she had little choice but to sit back against the seat with a sigh. Her eyes met and held Tilly’s over the width of the carriage and she smiled ruefully at the excitement her maid couldn’t hide.

  “I would settle back if I were you because we are going to be here for a long time.”

  “I am so excited mistress, I don’t mind telling you. I have never been to London before.”

  Thea sighed and studied Rupert, who was trotting alongside the carriage. She had been to London before; several times in fact but unfortunately it had never filled her with the same innocent enthusiasm that made Tilly positively wriggle in her seat. Although she tried to tell herself that this time it was different; this time she was the one in control of where she went and what she did, it did little to quell her disquiet.

  Two days later, the carriage drew to a stop outside John’s Mayfair town house, Ridings. Thea was stiff, sore and, for the last day and a half, had wished with all of her might that she had opted to stop overnight in a coaching inn. She was exhausted, dusty and so thirsty that she was certain that she could drink a well dry. They had stopped to change horses numerous times along the way and, while Thea had taken the luxury of being able to step outside and stretch her legs, it had done little to ease the gnawing ache the continual rocking of the carriage had created in her legs, her back and, well, every part of her.

  Throughout it all, Rupert had ridden seemingly undeterred by the long hours in the hard saddle and, on more than one occasion, had disappeared from view completely only to reappear as soon as the carriage had left the coaching inn yard with fresh horses. Where he had been or what he had been doing she had not been able to find out because she had barely had the opportunity to exchange more than a few words with him since they had left Leicestershire. Even then their conversations had been focused around her discomfort, the pace they had managed to maintain, and the distance they had yet to go. He always closed the carriage door on reassurance that the journey would soon be over and, if she needed anything, she was to signal to the coachman to stop. She knew that they were hurrying because of her uncle’s poorly condition but Rupert’s sense of urgency did nothing to quell the gnawing fear that he hadn’t been entirely honest about just how ill her uncle was.

  Still, they were here now. She had never actually seen Ridings because her uncle had purchased it only a year or so before the carriage accident and she had never been allowed to pay a visit. Although she had read about the place her uncle called home from his many letters, the detailing he had given her had done little to describe the luxurious splendour of the huge town house that sat amidst a long row of identical houses in an extremely expensive part of London.

  Thea was studying the huge façade of the town house when Rupert appeared by the carriage door. Apart from a thin layer of dust he looked fresh faced and completely unperturbed by the long distance they had travelled in such a short space of time. Thea, however, knew that she must look as weary and bedraggled as she felt. Rupert didn’t appear to notice though or, if he did, was too much of a gentleman to say anything. Instead, he handed her down from the coach with the same gentle consideration he had shown back in Leicestershire.

  Rupert studied the dark shadows beneath her eyes and bit back a curse. He wished now that they had stopped at a coaching inn overnight at least once while they had been travelling. She looked exhausted, with dark circles beneath her eyes and a wan complexion that was vaguely alarming. She very fragile as she stepped out of the carriage that he wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her inside. He could only hope that the news was good when they got there.

  He glanced up and down the street as he escorted Thea up the freshly swept steps toward the front door. The knocker was missing as he had instructed, and he was pleased to note that the shutters on the front face of the house were all c
losed. Only the gentle waft of smoke from the chimney pots gave any hint that someone was at home.

  They were half way up the stairs when Argus opened the door.

  “Good morning, Argus.” Rupert nodded to the efficient butler as he swept Thea into house. From their position inside the cool shadows of the entrance hall, he knew that even the most determined gunman wouldn’t find her as a target and visibly relaxed now that the first phase of his job was complete.

  His eyes met and held the butler’s in silent enquiry. In deference to Thea’s presence, he didn’t ask the question in case the news was not good, however Thea pre-empted him and asked anyway.

  “I am John’s niece, Theadora,” she declared quietly as she removed her dusty gloves.

  “I am pleased to be able to welcome you to Ridings, Miss Weatherby. I am your uncle’s butler, Argus.”

  “How is my uncle?” Thea glanced around the entrance hall but saw very little of the plush splendour. The coachman and Tilly were busy carrying the trunks and boxes into the hallway, but the noise didn’t distract her from witnessing the unspoken exchange that passed between Rupert and Argus.

  “He is doing as well as can be expected, ma’am. He is sleeping right now but should wake up soon. I have prepared room for you if you would like to rest and freshen up. I am sure that your uncle will be delighted you are here.”

  “Oh, I should like to see him now. I don’t mind if he is asleep, I just need to see him with my own eyes.” Relief washed over her and she felt some of her initial fears start to ease. However several doubts still lingered and they were doubts she knew wouldn’t be assuaged until she actually saw him with her own eyes.

  Rupert sensed an argument brewing when the butler opened his mouth to put forward another suggestion, and decided to intervene.

  “Thea, I hate to say this because I know you are worried, but you are tired and dusty and it is evident that the last couple of days have been arduous. I promised your uncle that I would bring you here, but he is going to be distressed if he sees you like you are now. You need to get something to eat, at least take a short nap and get rid of this layer of dust. Your uncle is alive and resting. Please don’t distress him by letting him see you this way.” He kept his voice low and quiet but the calm assurance underlying his steady tone was enough to make her glance down and take a good look at herself.

  She couldn’t argue with him. She looked a fright and, as if to support Rupert’s argument, her wayward stomach took that moment to rumble loudly. Colour immediately flooded her cheeks and she coughed uncomfortably to hide her embarrassment. The male superiority in the look Rupert gave her made her smile ruefully and turned to look at Argus, whose face was just a little too blank.

  “I think that might be a better idea,” she sighed.

  “I have taken the liberty of preparing a room for you as well, sir. Your man from the War Office has left a note for you, and your associate said that he would be back later.”

  Rupert nodded and pocketed the note the butler held out to him. He sensed the questions in Thea’s gaze but carefully avoided looking at her in case she decided to stay in the hallway and she press for more information. It wasn’t that he had no intention of telling her, he just wanted her to be fed, rested and reassured about her uncle before he told her about the work he really did, and who he suspected had shot her uncle.

  A couple of hours later, Thea had been fed, bathed and was now neatly dressed in her best walking dress. She didn’t even bother to try to lie down on the huge four poster bed that sat in the middle of the room because she knew that she couldn’t rest just yet. Now that she was a little more presentable, nothing was going to prevent her from seeing her uncle.

  When she had been shown to her room, Argus had told her where to find her uncle’s master suite, and she had no problems finding her way there now. She stood outside the highly polished mahogany door with her hand on the knob and took in a deep breath. Her hand physically trembled and she took a moment to compose herself. Tears beckoned as the realisation of what had actually happened began to sink in. Until now events had changed too quickly for her to stop and consider them too much. Now that she was here, outside of her uncle’s room, the startling swiftness of her change in circumstances left her reeling.

  “Are you alright?”

  She squeaked and spun around at the low rumble in her ear. It was the first time she realised just how tall he was up close and she was acutely aware that she had to tip her head right back to look into his wonderful eyes.

  “I am just -” she shook her head, unable to find the words to explain the mixed emotions that tumbled through her.

  “You won’t find out how he is by standing outside, now will you,” he prompted gently and reached around her to open the door. It swung silently open to reveal a huge room that was lavishly furnished with several chairs, two dressers and a massive bed against the far wall. It wasn’t the furnishings that drew her attention though; it was the man who lay in the centre of the vast expanse of bed.

  Her uncle had always been such a vibrant man, so full of vim and vigour that it was difficult to ever consider him being vulnerable in any way. It shook her more than she cared to admit to see him so lifeless and pale against the crisp white sheets. He had lost a lot of weight since the last time she had seen him, and she knew that the liberal smattering of grey at his temples was considerably whiter than before. However, although he had aged well in the several months since she had last seen him, what shook her most was the cadaverously grey colour of his skin: an indication of just how serious his condition really was. She couldn’t remember crossing the room but she found herself standing beside the bed anyway.

  “Uncle John?” Thea whispered. She carefully picked his hand up in hers, relieved that it was at least warm and dry, rather than cold or clammy. She glanced at his body, and realised then that she had not asked Rupert where her uncle had been shot. The sharp sting on her lip from her teeth was the only outward sign of the internal battle that raged within her as she sat carefully on the bed and settled their clasped hands on her lap.

  She wasn’t sure whether he was still sleeping or able to hear her. It bothered her more than she cared to admit that he hadn’t responded to her. She desperately tried to keep her fear at bay and focused on what she needed to say as she studied the wonderfully dear lines of his face.

  “Uncle John, it is Thea. Rupert brought me to see you.”

  It hurt to see her usually vibrant and agile uncle so helpless, and it brought forth so many memories for her that she struggled to keep the tears at bay. He had done so much to help her in her hour of need that the physical toll it had cost her to spend nearly three days in a carriage was a small price to pay for being able to at least start to repay the huge debt she owed him. He was without doubt the one; the only; constant in her life and she adored him.

  Silence settled around her that was broken only by the steady ticking of the huge grandfather clock in the mantle.

  “Amen,” she whispered to conclude her prayer. She opened her eyes and gasped as she looked straight into the slightly slumberous gaze of her uncle.

  “Thea? Thank heavens you got here,” he whispered in a voice that trembled with emotion. “I am so glad you could make it.”

  “How could I stay away?” She swiped at the tears on her cheeks that escaped in spite of her best efforts, and tried a wobbly smile.

  “Rupert found you then?”

  She nodded, unable to speak for a moment past the lump her throat.

  “Is Rupert still here?” He asked hopefully, and gazed at the ceiling while trying desperately not to give in to the sleep that threatened to pull him under again.

  “He is,” Rupert announced from beside the door. He hadn’t intended to stay once he had let Thea into the room, but had felt driven to make sure that she was alright. He wanted to be around to support her if emotion got the better of her and had found himself watching her every moment as she had sat with her uncle and wept. />
  He slowly walked across the room, relieved to see calm acceptance in the steady gaze John levelled on him. “I have sent for reinforcements who are here and looking after everything for you while we try to find out who hurt you and why.”

  Thea squeezed John’s hand gently in silent support. “I need to ask you, Uncle John; have you had any threats or arguments with anyone of late? Is there anyone who may wish you ill?”

  John shook his head. “I have thought about this over and over, when I am not rendered useless by that blasted laudanum, but I cannot conceive of anyone who would do such a thing.” He glanced at Thea. “You know what Rupert is involved in?”

  Thea frowned and shook her head before she turned slightly wary eyes on Rupert. “No. Why, what is he involved in?”

  “I haven’t told her yet,” Rupert sighed. “I was waiting until she had been to see you and reassured herself that you were as well as can be expected before I explained everything.”

  “See that you do, Rupert. It is important,” John replied in a voice that was firm in spite of his weakness.

  “How do you feel? Do you want me to get you anything?” Thea had never felt so helpless in her life and struggled to find something useful to say, or do. Was this what it had been like for her uncle after her accident?

  “I would have preferred to have been given a chance to duck, but the doctor said the bullet grazed my ribs. I lost a bit of blood but am starting to feel a little better now. If it wasn’t for that damned laudanum Argus insists on force feeding me, I should feel a darned sight better,” John grumbled and shot her a disgruntled frown. “At least it got you here,” he added gently moments later, and kissed the back of her hand in a gentlemanly fashion that befitted a ballroom rather than a sickbed. It had the desired effect and brought a smile to her pale cheeks.