The Earl's Christmas Delivery (10 page)

She seemed to still hate him as they rolled through the beautiful gates of Bexley Manor. Myserleigh had not gotten her to say more than ten words for the rest of their journey. He asked how the pony appeared to be doing, she said "Fine." He asked if the
piano-forte
seemed to have shifted in its secure tethers, she said "No." He asked if she was hungry or thirsty or needed another blanket to wrap in. No, no and no.

How the devil was he going to get around to asking the woman to marry him if this was how things were between them? His only hope was that once they were here, inside the manor with Estelle and her family, Miss Meriwether might warm just a bit. She might see him with new eyes as he did everything in his power to prove he was a decent man, a man capable of looking after her as she so clearly deserved.

For now, that meant he had to ignore her pouting mood and behave as if all was right with his world. After all, if not for the one single detail of the woman he loved not loving him back, all
was
right with his world. It was a damn shame that one detail had the power to cast a black shadow over everything else.

"Here we are," he announced. "Bexley Manor. We should have plenty of time to settle in and refresh ourselves before dinner. I suppose you and Estelle will have much to catch up on."

"Most likely."

Well, at least he got two words from her that time. How his heart would overflow if he managed to get three. He was hesitant to push his luck, though, so he stayed with simple topics that he knew she would have to respond to.

"Will you wish to accompany the grooms to the stables to oversee their care of the ponies?" he asked.

"Unless you feel that such show of concern is
unsuited to me, my lord."

By Jupiter, that was
nearly a whole sentence! A rather snippy one, at that. What the devil could she mean by it?

"Of course not, Miss Meriwether. Your compassion and concern are some of your most endearing qualities, among many others."

"Then I suppose I will go to the stables with them. It is my duty, after all. I am here to provide a service for the family."

A ruddy paragraph from her this time, but it was still just as snippy. Perhaps he should go back to accepting single word answers. What on earth could be plaguing the woman? Did her breakfast not sit well? Had he done something more, something he was not aware of?
Or perhaps it was just nerves for seeing her friend after all these years.

"If you'd like, I will go to the stables and tend to the ponies
," he suggested. "If you trust me to see to them, that is. Perhaps after the days we've had you'd prefer to be in the comfort of a warm house with your nattering friend. And Estelle will natter, you know. I hope you're up for that."

"I'm very eager to see her again
, when she has time for me."

But she was not eager to raise her eyes up to meet
Myserleigh's, apparently. Footmen dashed out of the house to meet them as they pulled to a stop before the wide front doors. The house was decked in greenery for Christmas and looked festive and inviting. Miss Meriwether did not gaze in wonder at it, though. She would not look at him; she did not look at the house. Instead, her hands were folded primly on her lap and she stared at them.

Myserleigh
leapt out and came around to help her before a footman could take over the task. She hesitated. When she finally did take the rug from her lap and allow him to help her alight he was able to catch a glimpse of her eyes.

Were those tears? Good God, had he somehow made the woman cry? He couldn't for the life of him think how. Perhaps it was simply the emotion of realizing she'd be seeing Estelle soon. He sincerely hoped that was all.

He held her by the waist as he lifted her down, sheer force of will the only thing keeping him from pulling her into an embrace and begging her to tell him what caused those tears. Given her attitude over the past two hours, however, he had no reason to believe she'd have welcomed that. A swift kick to his person might be more likely.

Patience
. He would recite that over and over until eventually it came naturally to him. Miss Meriwether was worth whatever time it might take to win her.

She left him immediately, rushing to check on the ponies and giving careful instructions to the grooms who appeared to look after them. The sudden squealing that came from the direction of the front doors could now only mean one thing: Estelle had spotted them.

"Carole Meriwether! My gracious, you are finally here!" she called, rushing out to them and passing Myserleigh as if he were invisible.

Miss Meriwether's face took on a rapturous glow and she turned to greet her friend. The two women nearly threw themselves at each other, caught up in a mass of fringed shawls, wilted bonnets and glass-shattering giggles.
Myserleigh made sure to keep clear out of the way, since it was obvious they were not paying him any attention and he was likely to get swatted if he happened too near.

"Estelle, you are as lovely as ever!" Miss Meriwether gushed.

Estelle daintily disagreed. "Pooh, I'm an old married woman with three children. But look at you! Still as radiant as ever, but... good gracious, have you been crying?"

At that Estelle turned a furious glare instantly at
Myserleigh.

But Miss Meriwether rescued him. "I'm just so happy to see you after all this time, Estelle. Can it really have been so many years since we left school?"

"Sometimes it seems like yesterday, doesn't it? Oh, but look, is this the pony you found?"

"Yes, and there's a surprise," Miss Meriwether grinned. "Look in the wagon."

Estelle did, and then the squealing and giggling started all over. Miss Meriwether briefly explained how the foal arrived unexpectedly in the storm and Estelle assured her this was the most wonderful Christmas gift ever. The children would be so surprised when they woke from their naps. Much of what the women said after that registered in tones too high for Myserleigh to comprehend, but perhaps the Bexley dogs sniffing and dancing around their feet could hear them quite plainly.

When he could get a word in edgewise he shuffled the ladies indoors, out of the damp cold. He promised them both that he'd see to the ponies and have the gifts taken into the drawing room. Estelle barely heard him, fussing over her friend and ushering her inside, eager to show off her house and brag over her children. Miss Meriwether seemed entirely thrilled to participate in that so there was nothing more
Myserleigh could do but what he had promised.

"Mind the young foal," he said as the grooms carried it out of the wagon. "He was just born last night and still a bit unsure on his legs."

"He'll be glad to stretch 'em again, sir," one of the grooms said, gently depositing the foal near his mother where they could happily nuzzle each other.

Myserleigh
was glad to stretch his own legs, too, although he had to admit, the biggest part of him would have much rather left this all to the servants and gone indoors. Even with the squealing and incomprehensible chatter, he would have much rather been watching Miss Meriwether's smile than tending ponies again. For her sake, though, he'd tend them as if his life depended on it.

His future happiness certainly did.

"The room is lovely," Carole said, gazing in amazement at the lush drapery and bed coverings of the rose colored room Estelle had shown her to.

"I hope you'll be comfortable here. It's a sight better than our rooms at Mrs. Plimple's School for Young Ladies, isn't it?"

"Good heavens, yes!"

They laughed and shared a few remembrances of their time there. It was so good to be out of the weather and to be here with Estelle, someone who knew her not as an impoverished orphan, but could remember her from years ago when she'd been someone's daughter, someone with a future ahead. Someone not to be pitied.

"But tell me," Estelle went on. "What do you think of my brother? Isn't he simply dreadful?"

Gracious, how could she answer that? Fortunately she knew Estelle was just teasing. She would not need to give a perfectly truthful answer.

"He was not so entirely bad," she assured her friend. "He got us here in one piece, and given the weather we encountered, I was not always convinced he would do that."

"Oh, but that wagon! Dear goodness, he made you ride in that?"

"Apparently when he made arrangements for the wagon, he was somehow unaware that he'd be transporting me."

Estelle laughed. "Yes, am I not terrible? I knew he'd complain so I rather accidentally did not give him the full information."

"Honestly, Estelle, you are wicked. How could you not tell him? You should have seen his face when he realized I was the item to be delivered. With a pony, no less!"

They nearly laughed themselves into hysteria as Carole tried to describe the scene back in Cheapside when he insisted her name must be Carl. What a rascal Estelle was to arrange things that way, and what a dreadful position she'd put Carole into! But how could Carole be angry? She was here now, she was warm and she was welcome
d by a dear friend. In truth, she could see the full humor of the situation and her laughter was quite genuine.

"So was he the curmudgeon for all of your journey?" Estelle asked.

"Most of it, but truly, is isn't so bad as you say. He got me hot tea and kept me well fed, even in the worst of it."

"Did he?"

"And when we found some students inured by an overturned carriage, he went in and freed the horse, then carried the students on to get medical attention."

"He did that? I've never known
Miser to put himself out for anyone."

"And that wasn't all! When the storm hit and we were nearly overrun by a flock of panicking sheep, he made room for the shepherds to carried their injured lambs on to the village."

Now she could see there was actual astonishment on Estelle's face.

"My brother transported shepherds? And their sheep?"

"Without batting an eye. And then when there was no room for us at the inn and we found out the foal was on its way, he stayed all through the night in the stable watching over all of us."

But here Estelle's astonishment turned to something more like horror.

"Stayed in the
stable
? Wait, you cannot mean to tell me... he could not get you a room so you slept in the
stable
?"

Oh, but that did sound bad, didn't it? And explaining the particulars of their sleeping arrangement would likely not make it any better.

"For the ponies," she said quickly. "We stayed in the stable to be close to the ponies. The shepherds were there and it was quite, er, proper."

"Heavens, you must be exhausted today. You must have left
Basingstoke very early to get here at this hour."

"Oh, but we did not stay in
Basingstoke. That was the plan, I believe, but the young men we rescued needed to get to their Nana for... Oh! I very nearly forgot! Please, tell me about Mr. Bexley. How is his condition?"

Estelle seemed surprised by this sudden change in the topic and she stammered a bit before giving answer. "His condition? Oh, well... he's been very ill, of course, but we have hope he'll recover."

"I'm so happy to hear it. We stayed at an inn in Newchild-on-Bourne and the woman there is known in her village as quite a good healer. She gave us a package with items she swears will make Mr. Bexley better."

"She did?"

"Oh yes! The earl was quite careful to describe his condition in detail, as much as he knows of it, of course. Mrs. Hark said her poultice will draw out his infection and allow Mr. Bexley's bones to knit properly."

"Er, how nice of her."

"It was your brother who encouraged it, of course. When the young men begged us to take them as far as Newchild instead of stopping in Basingstoke, they told us of Mrs. Hark's abilities. The earl insisted we travel the extra distance even though it meant driving into the night and facing the storm. I believe he's been far more concerned about Mr. Bexley than he's probably indicated."

"You believe so, do you? Apparently you have quite an insight into my brother."

"He attempts to be cold and hard-hearted, but I think there is more to him than that."

"Do you?"

"Well, I barely know him, of course, but—"

Mercifully her mutton-headed rambling was cut off by a knock at the door. A maid announced that the gifts were all in place and that hot water was being brought up for baths for their guests. Carole felt her face go to flame at the thought that she might be in her room bathing while the earl was off doing the same in his. Heavens! She ought to be ashamed of herself for such thoughts.

Worse than her thoughts, though, were the accompany images. Good lord, but what a wanton she'd turned out to be! Even furious at him, she still could not seem to help but praise him to his sister and think inappropriate thoughts of him regarding a bath. Heaven forbid that Estelle ever found out she harbored such feelings. She'd best take extra care to keep her thoughts and her emotions well guarded on that count.