The Last Chance Christmas Ball

by Mary Jo Putney

  Roxie froze and stopped breathing. Then, very carefully, she pushed herself up to a sitting position and stared at him. Her face was so white that a faint haze of golden freckles was visible across her cheekbones. “Why?”

  “The army is a traditional choice for a younger son.” Striving for levity, he added, “Surely you can’t imagine me entering the church!”

  “You don’t have to do either!” she retorted. “Haywick Grange is almost as large as Holbourne Abbey. There is quite enough work for both of us.”

  “I could keep busy,” he agreed. “But you run Haywick Grange as well as your grandfather did. You don’t need me for that.” With a pang, he had a new realization. “You don’t need me at all.”

  “How can you say that?” she whispered. “I love you. I need you every day, every hour. Your absences tear me apart. Again I ask, why?”

  He hesitated as he sought for words to explain what he hadn’t clearly articulated even to himself. “I’ve had a charmed life, Red. Being raised at Holbourne Abbey, a wonderful family with health and wealth. Most of all, you. I know I’ve been blessed.” He hesitated again. “I feel that I must do something challenging and difficult and selfless to be worthy of all that I have. I need to prove myself.”

  “You don’t need to prove yourself to me!” Great tears were forming in her eyes. “I’ve always loved you exactly as you are.”

  “It isn’t you I must prove myself to,” he said gently. “It’s me. And this isn’t just about me. Napoleon must be defeated. He’s conquered most of Europe, and he wants nothing more than to add Britain to his empire.”

  He braced to withstand her pleas that he change his mind, fearing that she might be able to break his will. Instead, she sat up fully, her face like carved alabaster as she began refastening her bodice. “Then we’d better not become officially betrothed.”

  Her pain echoed in him. “I was hoping we could marry before I leave. Then you’ll be an official member of the Stretton family.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How lovely. You’re giving me the opportunity to become a widow when I’ve scarcely become a wife. No, thank you.”

  “Then follow the drum with me. You love discovering new things. Wouldn’t you like to come with me to Spain?”

  “The idea is not without some appeal,” she said reluctantly. “But Haywick Grange needs me. I have a responsibility to the servants and tenants as well as the estate. I can’t just go away for God only knows how long.”

  “Any more than I can leave other men to fight my country’s battles.” He sighed, knowing that she was right to stay, just as he was right to go. “It won’t be forever, love. Two or three years, perhaps.” He reached for her hand. “I promise I’ll come home to you.”

  Avoiding his hand, she got to her feet. Her red hair was a blazing cloud that framed her pale face and bleak eyes. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

  “I will return,” he insisted as he stood.

  And he had. But he’d never dreamed that he’d come home a broken shell of the man who’d left.

  Roxie joined the countess and the dowager in what was usually the morning room. It was one of the spacious connecting chambers that ran along the south end of the house. When the sliding doors that separated the rooms were opened, the space became the grandest ballroom in this part of Northumberland. While servants removed furniture and carpets to make way for dancing, the countesses squabbled amiably over the decorations for the ballroom. Unsurprisingly, the countess preferred elegance while the dowager’s taste was far more colorful.

  Roxie loved them both, but she wondered about living under the same roof with them. Three strong-minded women at Holbourne was at least one too many! Particularly since Roxie had been mistress of her own household for several years.

  Perhaps Roxie and Edward could live at Haywick Grange until he inherited? They’d have more peace and privacy, and she’d not have to leave her home.

  As she wrote lists for the countesses and made notes of what needed to be done, she silently plotted how she might get in to see Kim. She’d made attempts before, but she’d stayed within the bounds of good behavior. Like his family, she’d reluctantly accepted that he needed time. Now time had almost run out.

  A heavy, locked medieval door was the only entrance to the small apartment at the top of the tower. Kim talked to Edward through the peephole with some regularity, and she knew Kim had sometimes spoken with his parents, but he’d never talked to her. When she tried, Welles would say apologetically that Captain Stretton was indisposed.

  Did Kim think that if they actually talked to each other, she might persuade him to come out? That suggested she still had some power over him, and she might have more if they met face to face. If only she could touch him!

  Pain ached through her as memories of touch and taste and sound sparkled through her mind. The memories were particularly acute when she thought back to those stolen hours in their private retreat by the river. Everything she knew of passion and satisfaction came from those wicked, wonderful interludes.

  Only the final consummation had been missing, During long, lonely nights in the years since, she’d dreamed of lying with him in the soft open air, the river flowing serenely by a dozen feet away while they feverishly explored each other’s bodies.

  As she lay sleepless, she also wondered if she should have married him before he left. If she had, she’d have more memories and perhaps a child. But his departure would have hurt even more, and it had been nigh unbearable as it was.

  She didn’t think she’d been wrong to refuse to marry then. But she was no longer sure that she’d been right.

  “We’ll need more scarlet ribbons,” Lady Holly said. “Make a note of that, Roxie.”

  “We’re already purchased every inch of scarlet ribbon in Bellsburn,” Aunt Elizabeth said mildly. “Surely we have enough. There isn’t time to send away for more.”

  “The greens need more red to set them off,” the dowager said firmly. “If there’s no red ribbon to be had, we’ll need more holly.”

  “We harvested most of the Holbourne holly on Christmas Eve,” her daughter-in-law pointed out. “By now the bushes whimper when the gardeners approach.”

  “There are a number of holly bushes near Haywick Grange that haven’t been cut, and they have a fine crop of scarlet berries,” Roxie said. “Adding those to the greens will brighten the ballroom nicely.”

  “A good thought,” Lady Holly said approvingly.

  Lord Gabriel Quinfroy chose that moment to peer into the morning room. The dowager’s eyes lit up at the sight of his golden head. “We can send my scamp of a godson to collect them.”

  “What am I being enlisted for?” Lord Gabriel asked warily. “I stopped by to say hello to Roxie, but I don’t trust that glint in your eyes, Lady Holly.”

  Roxie smiled. If the Strettons were her family, Gabriel was surely a cousin. As the dowager’s godson and a friend of both Stretton brothers, he’d visited the Abbey often over the years. His blond good looks and lighthearted charm were always welcome.

  “You are to be sent into battle with fearsome holly bushes, Gabriel,” she explained. “Your mission is to collect shiny, spiky branches with lots of red berries. They’re intrepid north country holly with many stabbing leaves. Expect to bleed.”

  Gabriel groaned theatrically. “Danger! Blood on my immaculate white linen!” He bowed, one hand over his heart. “But I shall not fail to fulfill my ladies’ wishes.”

  Amused, Aunt Elizabeth said, “Enlist the head gardener. He and a couple of his men can go with you, and he’ll have leather gloves you can use.”

  “There is less honor to be won, but my linen will be spared. My valet thanks you,” he said grandly.

  As Roxie sketched a simple map to the holly bushes, she suddenly thought of a way to conquer the tower so she could confront Kim. And once she was finally face to face with him—well, she’d see.

  CHAPTER THREE

  It was time for Kim to sta
rt the day’s round of exercises. This apartment at the top of the tower was mostly one large room, and now it looked like a combination of gymnasium, bedroom, and sitting room. Setting aside his cane, he began to walk the perimeter, his left hand skimming the wall to steady himself if his balance failed.

  In the agonizing days after Waterloo, when he was half out of his head with pain and despair, he remembered begging the surgeon to let him die. The surgeon, a Scot with wise, tired eyes, heard him out.

  Then he said thoughtfully that because Kim’s battered body seemed determined to survive, he must consider his future. If Kim didn’t want to spend the rest of his days in a bed or a wheelchair, he’d need to push his body ruthlessly. He must endure pain while forcing himself to move in ever more demanding ways.

  Kim had asked if he’d ever be able to walk again. The surgeon had said that perhaps he could, but only after great effort. There were no guarantees.

  His honesty had been refreshing, though at first Kim thought the surgeon had lied about the chances of walking again. He’d barely been able to wiggle his toes, much less lift his right leg from the mattress. But doggedly he wiggled his toes, and painfully attempted to lift his leg until the day when he could.

  Similarly, he’d worked his damaged hand until he could squeeze the fingers shut. Being able to pick something up took longer.

  Every day, with Welles’s help, he’d pushed himself as far as he could, then a little further. His life was reduced to pain and exhaustion. When Kim had been improved enough to be moved, Welles, God bless him, had managed to get him home on a small ship that sailed into the fishing port closest to Holbourne.

  Here in the Lucky Tower, he’d managed to master walking. Not well, but walking badly was infinitely better than not walking at all. With the aid of newly installed railings on both sides of the tower stairs, he’d managed to descend and ascend the tower, though at first he’d needed Welles’s aid to ascend the last few steps. Now he could manage on his own, barely.

  How many times had he circled the room this morning? Often enough that his muscles were shaking and he was close to collapse. He collected his cane and continued to walk, leaning on it as necessary.

  Though he could now walk and had regained much of the function of his right arm and hand, he’d also accepted the harsh truth that no matter how hard he worked, he would never recover all he’d lost. Some damage was too great to be repaired.

  There were no mirrors in the tower because he couldn’t bear to see his own face.

  After Lord Gabriel left to enlist his holly hunters, Roxie glanced at the clock. She’d have to move quickly to set her plan into motion. Rising from her chair, she said, “I need to stretch my legs. Lady Holly, Aunt Elizabeth, would you like me to perform any errands while I wander for a bit?”

  Both declined, and then returned to discussing how to arrange their guests at the dinner that would precede the ball. This was a monstrously complex task that would keep the countesses happily occupied for hours as they weighed precedence, friendships, romantic possibilities, gender balance, and more.

  Roxie strolled from the morning room, but she accelerated as soon as she was outside. She knew that Welles descended to the kitchen three times a day to collect meals for Kim and himself, and it was time for him to pick up the midday meal. Reverting to her tomboy ways, Roxie raised her skirts a few inches so she wouldn’t trip and raced down the steps to the kitchen.

  She was almost too late. Welles had already returned the morning tray with its dirty dishes and was leaving the kitchen with a new, heavily laden tray. The cook and her maids did their best to tempt Kim’s appetite and tantalizing scents wafted from the covered dishes.

  Jamie Welles was a fair, strongly built young man who’d grown up on a farm near Bellsburn. As a younger son with a yen to see the world, he’d followed Kim into the army, and their relationship ran long and deep. When Welles was struck down by a dangerous fever in Spain, Kim had personally nursed him back to health. They were friends, and utterly loyal to each other. Getting around Welles would be almost as difficult as changing Kim’s mind.

  Roxie intercepted Welles in the corridor that ran from the kitchen toward the back of the house, saying, “I need to speak with you.”

  He regarded her warily, having dealt with her many attempts to storm the tower and see Kim. “The captain’s lunch will get cold.”

  “It’s cold by the time you’ve climbed the tower anyhow,” she said. “Please. This won’t take long.”

  She opened the door to a storeroom where they’d have privacy. Since he couldn’t very well refuse her, he entered and set the tray on the worktable in the center of the room. “The captain still doesn’t want to see you, Miss Roxie. Or anyone else.”

  Roxie swallowed hard. She should be used to hearing this. “What is his condition now? You’ve said he’s improved.”

  “He has. More than the surgeons thought he would.” Welles sighed. “But he’ll never be the man he once was.”

  “Does he look like a monster? So hideous that women faint and children cry when they see him?”

  “He’s no monster,” Welles said firmly. “But he’s scarred and crippled, not that handsome lad you sent off to war.”

  “I didn’t send him,” Roxie pointed out acerbically. “He left all on his own. Now he’s home, and he’s cut off his whole family. The Strettons are good people, and they love him dearly. Do you think he’s right to withdraw like this?”

  He hesitated. “ ’Tis not my place to say, Miss Roxie.”

  She snorted. “Don’t hide behind a servant’s façade, Jamie Welles. We all played in the same muddy creek as children, and you didn’t lack for opinions then.”

  Welles exhaled roughly. “I understand why the captain has wanted to hide himself away, but I think it’s time he faced the world. He can’t hide forever.”

  “Lord Brentford told me that Kim is planning to move away from Holbourne soon. Is that true?” When Welles nodded, she continued, “Will you go with him? Leave Northumberland forever? I hear you’ve been courting Maggie Haines. Are you going to leave her? Or ask her to leave all her friends and family to move to a strange far place?”

  Expression miserable, Welles said, “I couldn’t ask that of her, and I don’t want to leave, either. Bellsburn is home. I’m thinking I’ll go with the captain, help him find a place, and hire a few servants. Then I’ll come home.”

  “And Kim will lose his last connection to Holbourne,” she said softly. “Do you think that will be good for him?”

  Welles looked even more unhappy and didn’t reply, which was answer enough. Changing her tack, Roxie asked, “Now that your soldiering days are behind you, how do you and Maggie want to spend the rest of your lives?”

  Readily accepting the change of subject, he said, “First thing I want is to marry Maggie. My older brother will take over Hilltop Farm, but there are other places.” He looked wistful. “Sure would be nice if Maggie and me could have our own farm someday.”

  Perfect. She said, “The tenancy of Shepton Farm will be available soon.”

  Welles looked startled, intrigued, and then wary. “Are you trying to bribe me, Miss Roxie?”

  “I would if I thought it might work,” she said candidly. “But you’d spit in my eye before you’d accept a bribe to do something you think would be against Kim’s best interests.”

  Welles grinned involuntarily. “Yes, Miss Roxie. But I’d spit politely.”

  She smiled back, relieved. Her key words were “against Kim’s best interests.” Since Welles agreed that it was time for his master to return to the world, he’d probably help her if she handled this well.

  “I’ve been considering who to choose as a new tenant ever since the Dodds told me they were getting too old to keep up the farm and they wanted to move in with their daughter and her family,” she explained. “I thought of you immediately, but I didn’t want to mention it while Kim needed you so much. If he’s leaving and you want to live here, it’s ti
me I asked. I think you and Maggie would make splendid tenants. I also think you deserve a reward after all you’ve done for Kim. Even if he never speaks to me again, you still deserve this. Talk it over with Maggie and let me know.”

  “Oh, she’ll want this right enough!” he said, his face glowing. Then his expression turned thoughtful. “But even if this isn’t exactly a bribe, I’m thinking you want some help.”

  “You’ve known me too long, Jamie Welles! Yes, there is something you might do.” How should she phrase this without causing him to dig in his heels? “You’ve made some good improvements in the tower. The railings on both sides of the stairs. The new lock that you installed on the apartment door.”

  He nodded. “The old lock was simple and too easy to open. The captain thought family members would want to visit, and he was right. Don’t know how many times there was a rattling at the door as someone tried.”

  “Imagine that!” Roxie said with feigned innocence. “He’s so lucky to have you. But you do go out sometimes. There’s always a holiday assembly in Bellsburn the same night as the Holbourne ball. Are you going to attend?”

  “Yes, the captain said I should go and enjoy myself with Maggie.” Welles scratched his chin thoughtfully. “I’m thinking that I’ll be so excited about the news I have for her that I might not lock the door properly. No real harm in that, though, this being Holbourne Abbey and safe as a church.”

  “No harm at all,” she agreed. “Give Maggie my best wishes. I know the two of you will prosper at Shepton Farm. Sorry to slow the food delivery.”

  Now that they’d reached an understanding, he nodded politely and picked up the tray as she opened the door for him. When he was gone, she closed the door again and leaned against it, her eyes squeezed tight with relief.

  The first essential step had been taken. The bigger question was how Kim would react when she forced herself into his lair.

  With Holbourne Abbey packed to the rafters with guests, Roxie stayed at her own home, but she was invited to all the house party meals and events, so the next morning she set off early to ride to the Abbey for breakfast. After several days of uninspiring weather, this day dawned bright and crisp and invigorating. Her enjoyment helped reduce some of her tension.