The Duke's Christmas Greetings (Regency Christmas Summons Book 3) (2 page)

Grace snorted. “If I had ever heard something like that, the two of you are the first ones I would have gone to.”

“I wish Quent was here,” Hope said, scooping Ashes up in her arms. “He would tell us.”

And their more jovial brother would tell them anything if they asked, but he was still in Cumberland with his new bride. And the odds of sending a letter to Quent in Ravenglass and getting a response back before they had to head for Yorkshire were slim, indeed. But going to Yorkshire might be a benefit at the moment… “Perhaps while we’re away, it can buy us the time we need to figure out how to save Ashes.”

“I’m all for saving Ashes,” Grace replied, “but if the Duke of Danby thinks he’s going to sort me out, he is in for a rude awakening.”

“Perhaps,” Hope replied. “And perhaps we’ll find out what scandalous thing Mama might have done.”

A fortnight later

Mullins’s Cottage ~ Danby, Yorkshire

Doctor Matthew Campion wiped the blood from his hands and then closed Mrs. Mullin’s eyes. At least the child had made it, given that his mother had not. He straightened the woman’s clothing and then turned to offer a sad smile to her husband. “I am sorry, John,” he said softly. “If there’s anything I can do…”

The farmer’s rigid face showed no emotion as he stared at his wife’s lifeless body. “I’ll send your fee as soon as I’m able, Doctor Campion.”

Dear God. The last thing Matt was thinking about was his fee. John Mullin had six children under the age of ten, the last one having come onto this Earth not an hour before. “There’s no rush,” he said, as telling the man to forget about his fee when he had so many other worries would be the same as taking a swipe at the farmer’s pride.

Then Matt shrugged into his greatcoat, nodded briefly to the orphaned Mullin brood, and stepped out into the wintry Yorkshire wind. Damn if it hadn’t been the coldest year he could ever remember suffering through. Snow crunched beneath his boots as he started for the lean-to where he’d left his stallion many hours earlier. Once he reached his horse, he smoothed his hand over Sanus’s neck, then slid up into the saddle.

The wind was biting and even through his gloves, his fingers felt numb. The faster he got home, the better. Matt pulled his greatcoat tighter, tucked his chin to his neck and raced directly for Allwynds Cottage, happy to see the warm glow of candlelight emanating from both the first and second floors once he reached his home. He couldn’t wait to have dinner and then fall into bed after a most exhausting day.

He left Sanus in the stables and then hurried inside his home. A warm fire blazed in the hearth and for the first time in several hours, Matt sighed with relief. What a bloody awful day. Thank God it was nearly over.

“I do hope Cook has some warm cider,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and handing it to his housekeeper, Mrs. Henderson, in the foyer.

“Doctor Campion, a footman from Danby Castle came to retrieve you just a while ago.”

From the Castle? That didn’t bode well. Matt blinked at his loyal servant. “Is His Grace all right?” Danby was quite an old fellow, but he had seemed in good health the last time Matt had seen him.

Mrs. Henderson nodded quickly. “It seems one of His Grace’s guests was bitten by a kitten and her hand has swollen up.”

A kitten? Honestly? Matt heaved a sigh. It seemed his day wasn’t even close to being over and the sun was already setting. “And I’m needed right away?” he asked.

“The duke sent for you, sir.”

And the duke was Matt’s most important benefactor. “Very well.” He took his coat back from Mrs. Henderson and shrugged back into it. “Will you ask Cook to have some warm cider for when I return?”

His housekeeper smiled sympathetically. “Of course, sir. Warm cider and a hearty dinner will be waiting for you.”

Matt winced as he returned to the bitter Yorkshire wind and started once again for his stables and for his beleaguered stallion.

Where was that blasted doctor? It had been an hour since the duke had sent for him.

Patience’s hand throbbed like the dickens as she crawled into her bed, upon her mother’s orders, which was the last thing she wanted to do. Poor Ashes hadn’t meant to bite her. He’d just been playing with the ball of thread she’d brought along for him, and she’d startled him when she went to pick him up. It wasn’t his fault at all. She’d just been so stunned when he bit her, that she’d let out a yelp, terrifying him and sent him scurrying off somewhere through the castle. Poor little kitten, lost in an unfamiliar place filled with a plethora of strangers.

Luckily Hope and Grace were searching everywhere for him. And Patience could only pray that they found the little ball of fluff sooner rather than later.

A scratch sounded at her door, signaling that Sarah was checking on her again. At least this time her mother’s lady’s maid could report back that she was, in fact, in bed as she’d been commanded.

“Come,” she called.

Sarah pushed the door open and ushered in a rather handsome fellow, honestly. Dark as midnight hair and eyes as warm as molasses.

“Doctor Campion,” Sarah said in way of introduction.

Doctor Campion was the most handsome man Patience had ever seen, despite his rumpled cravat and stained waistcoat. Her mouth went slightly dry at the sight of him. He looked like a rugged knight from a long ago era.

“Lady Patience, is it?” he asked, his Yorkshire accent rumbling over her, and she’d never heard a voice that was quite so captivating. At least, she didn’t think she had.

“Yes.” Patience cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter. But then winced when she put pressure on her hand and the throbbing from her bite intensified.

“All right,” he said, the warm sound of his voice rumbling over her. “Let me see your hand.”

Patience lifted her right hand out to him and nearly sighed when he took it in his and then brushed his fingers across the back of her knuckles near the kitten bite which was glowing slightly red. The feel of his fingers against her bare hand made tingles race across her skin and heat pool deep in her belly. Heavens, what was wrong with her?

“Definitely, infected,” he muttered. “I’ll give Cook a recipe for a poultice to draw the infection out.”  Then he glanced from her hand to her eyes and Patience felt it in the depth of her soul. “I will check on you tomorrow to see how it’s doing, my lady.”

“Thank you, Doctor Campion,” she breathed out. And what a delightful name that was. Campion, almost like Champion. And he had been that, hadn’t he? Her champion, come to save the day...or at least treat her wound. “I don’t know what I would have done without you.”

His brown eyes widened at bit at that, then he placed her hand back on the counterpane. “You might want to stay away from cats in the future,” he said and then turned to go.

But her door burst open in that minute and Hope stood there, cradling Ashes in her arms. “He, um,” she began, then glanced at Sarah who would most likely run to Mama with whatever was said. “I, um, found him.”

“Shouldn’t have even brought that thing with you,” Sarah grumbled under her breath.

And though Patience heard the maid, she ignored the comment as Sarah was rarely in a sweet disposition. Besides, whether or not Patience had brought Ashes with her to Yorkshire or not was none of Sarah’s concern. “Oh, give him to me,” she said, reaching her hands out for the little ball of grey fur.

Doctor Campion looked from Hope to Patience, his eyes finally settling on Ashes as Patience cradled him against her cheek. “Is this how well you listen to directions, my lady?”

He
had
said to stay away from cats, but Ashes wasn’t just some random cat. Ashes was the most precious kitten ever born, and Patience loved him dearly. “He didn’t mean to bite me, Doctor,” she said. “He was just frightened. He’s the sweetest little thing in the world. Truly.”

Doctor Campion’s warm gaze met hers once more and he sighed, softening his features slightly. “I will check on you tomorrow, but do try not to have other injuries by then.”

Sarah cast the sisters a censorious expression before leading the country doctor from Patience’s borrowed bedchambers.

As soon as they were gone, Patience fell back against her pillows with Ashes and pressed his little head against her cheek. She smoothed her hand over his fur and couldn’t help but smile when he started purring. “Where did you find him?” she asked once Hope had closed the door to keep anyone from overhearing their conversation.

“Well, he soiled one of the duke’s slippers, Patience.”

Oh good heavens! She lifted Ashes out so she could see him better. “We’re trying to find a way to save you, naughty boy.”

“I took the pair and am hoping His Grace won’t notice they’re missing as he
does
have quite a few pairs.” She dropped onto the edge of Patience’s bed. “What did the doctor say?”

The doctor.
Doctor Campion
. Patience couldn’t hold back a smile as she glanced at her sister. “He was handsome, wasn’t he?”

Hope blinked at her. “Ashes?”

Well, Ashes
was
handsome but in a completely different way than Doctor Campion. Patience shook her head. “No, no, no, the doctor. Wasn’t he handsome?”

Hope shrugged. “I didn’t notice, honestly.”

Heavens! Had Hope gone blind after Lord Kilworth’s untimely death? “How could you not have noticed?” she asked. “He was the single most handsome man I’ve ever seen.”

“I suppose I prefer men who don’t sport blood stained waistcoats.” Her sister shrugged again. “Anyway, his handsomeness aside, what did he say about your hand?”

“Something about a poultice and that he’ll be back tomorrow to see me,” she sighed that last part.

Hope rolled her eyes. “I suppose you could always twist an ankle or break an arm to get him to come back sooner.”

Patience laughed in response. What a silly suggestion…She might consider it.

“They’re twins?” Matt asked as the slightly annoyed maid led him back toward the grand staircase. Though it was a ridiculous question to ask. After all, the two pretty blondes
were
identical, except for their smiles. Lady Patience had a slightly crooked smile that was rather endearing.

“Triplets,” the maid grumbled. “Three times the trouble, sir. Of that I can assure you.”

“Triplets?” Matt stopped where he stood. “And they each survived birth?” He wasn’t familiar with even one case of such a thing. His class had studied the corpses of a mother and her three infants at Edinburgh, which was rare enough, but not even one of the four of them survived childbirth.