by Heather Boyd
“I’d find you,” he promised. “But you really should visit again in the summer. The paths are quite extensive. You can go all the way up to the highest ridge. The views take your breath away.”
“You like it here?” she asked, realizing he spoke so fondly of the place.
He shrugged. “I suppose I do. And I’m not one for rusticating.”
“High praise indeed then.” She watched him warm himself by the fire for a while. She’d been hoping she would meet him again today. She found herself almost as restless as her son. And curious about the boy she’d once known and bickered with. She wanted to know if he really had changed--beyond the improvement of his looks. He was much more handsome now than when he’d been a boy. Talking with him also gave her the chance to learn more about society and the common view of world events from a different angle. “Where is your estate located?”
“I don’t have one. I live in London year-round.”
“I thought all titles came with entailed property.”
“Not in my case, which was something of a relief. I never liked the estate my father lived in.”
“Too many bad memories?”
“Not enough good ones,” Hector told her, and then came to sit in a nearby chair. “But I want to hear about you, Mrs. Roper. Where has life taken you in recent years?”
Uncle Vyne had suggested she keep her history to herself, but hiding her marriage went against the grain. “To Scotland, a little village over the border.”
He nodded. “I thought I detected a trace of an accent.”
She put her fingers to her lips in shock. She hadn’t realized her time away from England had affected the way she spoke.
“Don’t worry, I find the inflection charming,” he promised. “The boy’s is stronger, though.”
“I will endeavor to diminish that as soon as possible. I want him to fit in.”
“I’m sure he will,” Hector promised. “Was his father from Scotland?”
“Yes, but we met at home.”
“Where was home again?”
“My father’s estate is to the south,” she told him.
“That’s right. I remember now. You have a sister who is newly out in society.”
“You met Helen?”
He nodded. “At a ball. Clement introduced us, though I don’t believe we danced.”
Ruby rubbed her hands together, noticing her palms had become damp. She was anxious still about whether her sisters would accept her back into their company again but excited to hear anything of them. If her father really had disowned her, she might never know them again. What Ruby had done in running away might have reflected badly on them for some time. She hadn’t considered that possibility until months later, when her letters to them had gone unanswered. “I haven’t seen Helen since my marriage.”
“She’s lovely, but,” Lord Stockwick smiled slowly, “not as lovely as you, I think.”
“You’re very kind.” Ruby’s face warmed in a blush. “I hope the weather will clear soon. I should have liked to take Pip off for an adventure to see more of my grandfather’s home.”
“That’s a fine idea.” Hector stood. “Shall we go exploring together now?”
“I don’t think we should go outside in this weather.”
“Not out, but up and around,” he said, twirling one finger about. “There’s plenty to see inside The Vynes. How about we start upstairs in the nursery? Find the boy something new to play with.”
Ruby was tempted, especially so when Stockwick gallantly held out his hand to help her rise. She slipped her hand in his and allowed him to bring her to her feet. There was a certain excitement in his gaze when their eyes met. Feelings she hadn’t experienced in a very long time stirred in her belly. Not since her husband had she experienced anticipation and perhaps a not-so-innocent desire to be close to anyone. Ruby was definitely drawn to Hector which was ridiculous given how slight their acquaintance.
“A quick jaunt upstairs and then back here to warm up again,” he promised with an eager smile, unaware of her inner thoughts.
Ruby’s pulse quickened. “We could remain here and have tea instead.”
“Only if you’ll allow me to slip brandy into mine,” he murmured, with a look she could only describe as seductive.
Ruby knew how other widows behaved with handsome men. For the first time, she understood their desire for a little attention too. In Scotland she would never have encouraged a flirtation. But she was in England now and bound to marry a man she might never have chosen for herself. She arched her brow. “How else do you drink it on a cold day?”
“Exactly.” Stockwick grinned…and something inside her shifted again. It occurred to her that she was enjoying his company very much. She hadn’t spoken to anyone so friendly since her husband had died, and she had certainly missed it. She hadn’t been allowed to be herself in a very long time. Ruby Clement had run off to marry a man because of love. Ruby Roper could do as she pleased, too.
Ruby rushed to Pip and dressed him in his warm coat, soft cap, and scarf. “Time for an adventure, little man.”
“Yay!” Pip cheered, jumping up and down.
Ruby rugged herself up, too, and they ventured out into the hall together. “If memory serves, the nursery is one floor up and to the east, isn’t it?”
“That’s right.”
Taking her son’s hand in hers, they climbed the steps together, with Lord Stockwick bringing up the rear. Inside was cold, and the vast room had obviously been deserted for some time, too. She brushed her fingers over the wood of a rail and came away with a thick layer of dust on her fingertips.
Everything she touched was the same, dirty and uncared for, but Pip hardly seemed to notice. To his delight, he found toys belonging to his absent cousins to play with, and even a rag doll of a solider. He brought each discovery to Ruby, and she meticulously cleaned each one before allowing him to play with it.
Although it was cold in the nursery without a fire lit, she allowed her son to explore the chamber as long as he liked. She soon drifted to the window to look out at the view. The storm was still upon them. “I fear this won’t end soon.”
“Likely not,” Stockwick agreed, coming to stand by her side. “We’ll just have to make the best of it, use the time to get to know each other again.”
She glanced up at him, wondering how much time they would have together. Her uncle wanted her to marry, and she didn’t believe that he’d meant her to charm Lord Stockwick. But this might be her last chance to make peace with Hector over her lost silver bell. After she married, she may never come across him again. “I’d like that.”
“Will you play with me?” Pip asked suddenly.
Ruby spun around from the scene outside—but it was to Lord Stockwick to whom her son had posed the question.
Stockwick went to the boy and peered down at what he was holding out. “What have you got there?”
“A horse. I found two of them.”
“He’s a fine-looking steed, isn’t he?” Hector remarked, seemingly quite happy to indulge her son in conversation. To Ruby’s surprise, he picked up the second horse and waved it about as if playing. Pip joined in, following Hector’s movements but neighing, too.
Hector passed the second horse back to Pip then ruffled the boy’s hair. “You’ll take good care of them, won’t you?”
“I will,” the boy promised as he went back to his own game, galloping the toy about the room as if it were real.
She watched him for a few moments, her fingers at the base of her throat. Pip was so sweet and innocent and Hector so unexpectedly kind. She couldn’t imagine life without Pip, and Ruby would do anything to give him the life he deserved. She hoped the man her uncle wanted Ruby to marry might play with Pip like this too.
“Gads, it’s freezing up here.” Hector left Pip and drew closer, rubbing his arms briskly. He was a very well-dressed gent, quite tall and slender, prosperous and at ease with himself around her. He smelled very nice too
. She started blushing when he suddenly caught her eye and winked. “What’s on your mind, Ruby Roper?”
That made her blush even hotter. She glanced at her son to hide his effect on her sensibilities. She ought not reveal her real thoughts to him. “I was wondering if anyone would notice if I borrowed a few things from the nursery to keep Pip amused until he can meet my cousins,” she said, rather than the truth.
“I doubt anyone would care,” he said, then shivered. “Find what you need, and I’ll help carry it all downstairs. Do it quickly before we catch our death.”
Grateful for the distraction of the task and for his offer of assistance, Ruby rushed around gathering up slate and chalk, and a box of toys, and handed them off to Hector. Then she ushered Pip back downstairs into the warm parlor.
Stockwick delivered everything she’d gathered to Pip—and then pulled something brown out of his pocket.
She frowned at his hand. “Is that…”
“Mistletoe. Last year’s pickings, I’m afraid. But still if one pretends it does the trick and offers an excuse for what I’m about to do next.”
He held it up over her head—and then swooped in to deliver her first kiss since her husband had passed away.
For a moment, Ruby was quite shocked and didn’t know what to do, but soon instinct took over, and she kissed him back.
They kissed for quite a while and then he drew back slowly. “That had to be better and longer than the first time I kissed you.”
She frowned. “You’ve never kissed me.”
“When we were children, I certainly did,” he promised. “Right upstairs, outside the nursery we just visited. You were the first for me.”
“I…” Ruby froze, startled that he even remembered that brief indiscretion. She’d been too young then to understand what he was about until much later. “So you did.”
Hector smiled, his cheeks dimpling. “I was young then, and not very good at it most likely. The kiss we just shared was nice.”
It certainly had been. Ruby could still feel the effect over her emotions, and her body, too. But she drew back from him. She shouldn’t encourage him to imagine she’d fall into his arms every time there was mistletoe about. Her uncle expected her to behave, and her son was in the room.
Ruby turned toward Pip quickly, but he appeared to have noticed nothing that had gone on between her and Lord Stockwick. He wouldn’t understand.
Lord Stockwick moved close behind but stopped short of touching her. She nearly shivered with the need to be held and kissed again. His nearness made her remember how close a couple could be. The press of a naked male body against her skin. The stroke of a hand along her inner thigh. She shook the memory away, blushing furiously.
Stockwick sighed. “I swear the next time I hold mistletoe over your head, it will be in a more private setting with no small person potentially listening or watching what we do,” he promised. “Maybe then you won’t feel as if you’ve betrayed him.”
Before she could say she hadn’t even thought of her husband, Hector went to the fire to play games with her son.
Ruby turned away to the window, confused by her feelings. Should she even feel guilty over a simple kiss delivered under mistletoe from a childhood friend?
Chapter 9
Hector tossed the lad up over his shoulder. “Young man, you are in danger of becoming lost in all this snow,” he warned.
Pip giggled, kicked his legs, then thrust out his arms wide. “Look at me! I’m flying!”
“Yes, but backward.” Hector kept a firm grip on the boy as he trudged through the deep snow until they reached the stables, and then sat him down safely.
Pip was devilishly keen to see the horses today. Hector had seen the signs that his mother was fast losing her composure with the way Pip was carrying on inside and had offered to take the boy out to give her breathing space. Of course, the boy, unfamiliar with The Vynes, had run off immediately when they’d set foot outside and found the deepest patch of snow to become mired in. Hector had fished him out, and saved him from the next danger, too. Carrying him seemed the most expeditious way to get to where he wanted to go before they froze.
They quickly slipped into the stables and shut out the cold. The Vynes’ stables were extensive and heated by regularly spaced, enclosed fires, but it was his men that Hector was interested in seeing first. He put a steadying hand on Pip’s shoulders, so he didn’t run off. “Hello,” Hector called.
Twelve men suddenly appeared from the shadows from all parts of the stable. “Yes, my lord?”
“Franklin Jones?” he called out.
“Here, my lord.” Hector’s coachman pushed through the crowd. “Do you need the carriage made ready to leave?”
“Not in this weather. I wouldn’t do that to you again so soon.” Hector laughed. “Actually, what I have in mind is something that will require minimal effort on your part.”
“We are at your service, of course.”
Hector looked down at the boy. “Do you happen to know the location of a pile of clean hay the boy can jump about on? In?”
Franklin Jones grinned. “Indeed I do, and likely I have someone who might be very willing to join him, too.”
He turned away, spoke to someone inside a chamber, and returned with a boy a few years older than Pip. The boy had an unusual scar across one side of his face and a wide smile.
“This is Allan. He’d be pleased to play with the young master for a while.”
Allan rushed forward to claim Pip by the hand, and they ran off together to an empty stall.
Mr. Jones shrugged. “He’s a good lad, but not too bright.”
Hector kept track of where Pip went. “What happened to his face?”
“A horse kicked him when he was younger. It doesn’t seem likely he’ll ever grow up completely now.”
“Ah,” Hector said with a sigh. “That is unfortunate.”
“A momentary distraction and the boy fell into harm’s way. It happens all the time, but at least here, he’ll always be cared for.”
Hector heard Pip squeal and moved closer to the stall to see what was going on. The boy had straw on his clothes already and was reaching for another handful to throw up into the air.
Hector relaxed. “I’m surprised Lord Vyne was so generous as to house him.”
Jones joined him. “He wasn’t. Lord Vyne has little idea of what goes on beyond the great house anymore.”
“So I gather,” Hector said with a laugh as he pulled a small flask of whiskey from his coat pocket. “For your aches and pains. To help you sleep.”
Jones beamed. “Thank ye.”
Hector poked his head over the stable wall again, only to find Pip starting to tunnel into the hay pile. Young Allan raced around to the other side and started his tunnel, too. “They look to be well matched for their game.”
Jones nodded. “Who is the young one?”
“I would have thought you knew more than I?”
“Never seen him before in my life.”
“This is Lord Vyne’s great-nephew. Mrs. Ruby Roper’s son.”
“Is that right? Hadn’t heard anything about another relative come to stay.”
That was odd. Servants always knew everything.
There was something about Ruby Roper that didn’t sit right with Hector. It was strange how little she’d spoken of her life in Scotland. It was clear that she loved her son and thought well of her late husband, though. If Clement were here, Hector would ask him about his female cousin’s marriage. As he was not, Hector was left to get his answers from the lady herself. It was unlikely that Vyne would tell him anything useful.
Hector allowed Pip a good amount of time to play and wear himself out, and then dressed him back into his warm and rather thin coat he’d thrown off. He hoisted Pip onto his shoulders for expedience and returned to the manor as quickly as he could walk that distance safely. Pip was a great deal more subdued when he greeted his mother in the upstairs parlor and happily returned to his t
oys to play.
She smiled. “Would you care for tea, my lord?”
“Yes, indeed, but only if you will call me by my given name when we are alone.” Hector was on a first-name basis with all members of Meg’s new family. It wasn’t that scandalous, really, especially not here. “We are family now, in a way.”
“I shouldn’t do that.”
“Well, the offer is made.” He slipped another flask from his pocket, tipped some brandy into his cup—and Ruby’s, too—and then sat back to sip his. “How long will you be staying at The Vynes?”
“I’m not certain,” she said, eyes lowering to her cup.
He watched her mouth, became fascinated by the gentle curve and pout of her lips as she blew across the hot liquid. He thought of the pleasure of kissing her and if he might have another chance to kiss her again. The woman was indeed quite lovely, and he wanted to know all about what brought her here. He had a feeling it wasn’t for a holiday. “Lord Vyne is not known for his generosity, even with his wife. I’m sure your visit here has an end date. My departure is imminent, I think.”
Ruby’s lips parted in surprise. “So soon.”
“I came to see m’sister Meg. If she doesn’t arrive soon, I will set off for Cornwall for our planned Christmas reunion.” He smiled. “May I ask where you are bound for when you leave The Vynes?”
“Why?”
He smiled even more warmly. “Well, perhaps I should like to see you again.”
Ruby glanced down at her hands. He noted the cup she held trembled as she put it aside. “I don’t know where I’m going yet,” she admitted.
Hector waited, hoping that if he gave her an opportunity, she might divulge her secrets.
She was wearing the same gown she’d worn for several days. The only dress he’d ever seen her wear was dated and fraying at the seams. Her marriage had not provided for her needs very well. He suspected she was in desperate straits and had come to her uncle hoping for his assistance. That could only be a mistake. “What you say to me goes no further,” he promised.
A tiny shuddering breath left her. “My husband died nearly a year ago. He was a good man, but he wasn’t a wealthy one as you must have already determined. He was my father’s servant. My father disowned me when it became known I had given my heart to someone of his lesser importance than expected.”