His Housekeeper's Christmas Wish Page 6
‘Do you want to eat or shall we wait until we can find a decent inn?’
‘Wait,’ Tess said with decision. She felt all right now, but there was no point in tempting fate, especially when she had to venture below decks again. That couldn’t wait, but she lingered a moment, hand braced against the mast, looking down on Alex’s tousled head as he bent over the kitten. Such a kind man.
‘I’ll just…’ She waved a hand towards the companionway. ‘I won’t be long.’
It was much worse below decks now after a rough, crowded night. Even the smartest passengers looked haggard and unkempt. The first-class saloon was crowded and difficult to negotiate and, when Tess emerged from the room assigned to ladies, she turned to see if she could make her way forward and up through a different hatch.
She skirted the second-class cabin, an even more unpleasant sight than the first class, and tried a narrow passageway with a glimmer of what looked like daylight at its end. It opened out into a small area at the foot of another set of stairs so she gathered her skirts in one hand, took the handrail with the other and started to climb, one step at a time.
‘What we got ’ere, then? You’re trespassing into the crews’ quarters, sweetheart. Lost, are you? Or looking for some company?’
A sailor, big and burly, was descending the steps towards her. Tess retreated backwards, away from the smell of tar and unwashed man, the big hands, the snaggle-toothed smirk.
‘I want to get back on deck. Kindly let me pass.’
‘Kindly let me pass.’ He mimicked her accent and kept coming. ‘I don’t take orders from passengers.’ His eyes, bright blue in his weather-beaten face, ran over her from head to foot and a sneer appeared on his face as he took in her plain, cheap gown. ‘I can show you a good time.’ He put out a hand and gave her a push towards a door that was hooked open. Inside she could glimpse a bunk bed.
Tess turned, clumsy with her painful ankle, and he caught her by the shoulder. ‘Not so fast, you stuck-up little madam. What the—?’
He broke off as one elegantly gloved hand gripped his shoulder. ‘You’re in the way, friend,’ Alex drawled, his tone suggesting they were anything but friends. His gaze swept over Tess and she stopped struggling.
‘And something tells me this lady does not welcome your attentions.’ His voice was low, almost conversational, his half smile amiable. ‘I suggest you remove your hand from the lady.’ Alex was as tall as the sailor, but looked about half his weight. The man shifted his stance to face him, his posture becoming subtly more threatening as he dropped his hand from Tess’s shoulder.
Tess looked at the great meaty hands and the knife in his belt and swallowed. Then she began to pull off her gloves. If he attacked Alex, her only weapons were her nails and her feet. ‘This brute—’
‘This little lady came looking for some company.’ He leered at Tess. ‘Then the silly mort got all uppity on me.’
‘And you are?’ Alex sounded almost comatose with boredom as he drew off his right glove and tossed it to Tess.
‘I’m the second mate of this ’ere ship and I don’t take any nonsense, not from bits of skirt what don’t know their place and not from passengers, neither.’
‘Hmm. I wasn’t intending nonsense,’ Alex remarked, the last word almost a growl. He bunched his fist and hit the man square on the jaw. The sailor went down like a felled tree, hitting his head on the handrail as he went.
‘Damn.’ Alex shook his hand. ‘I hope I haven’t killed him. It means such a fuss with the magistrates.’ He sounded like himself again.
He gave the unconscious man a nudge in the ribs with one booted foot. ‘No. He’s breathing.’ Alex stepped over the sprawled figure and frowned down at Tess. ‘Are you all right? Did he do more than touch your shoulder? Because if he did he’s going to wake up minus his wedding tackle.’
‘No.’ She blinked at him, trying to square the carefree figure in front of her with the dangerous-sounding man who had delivered that sledgehammer of a blow. ‘You hit him very hard.’
Alex shrugged. ‘He deserved it and if you give a lout like that a tap, all you do is make him angry and more dangerous. Now, where can we stow him?’
‘In there.’ She pointed at the open door.
Alex dragged the unconscious man inside, then hunkered down, felt the sailor’s head, rolled back an eyelid and pushed him onto his side. ‘He’ll do.’
Tess sat down on the bottom step. It felt safer down there, less as though the deck was going to come up and hit her. She wasn’t used to violence, and facing that leering creature had made her stomach heave, but Alex… Alex had been wonderful.
She should have been appalled and frightened by the violence, but it had been thrilling, that explosive, focused power. Tess looked at Alex. Most of the time he was so kind and carefree, but she now knew he was capable of behaving like a storybook hero. She had forgotten those muscles.
‘Let that be a lesson to you,’ said her hero flatly as he pulled on his glove and shut the cabin door. ‘Do not go wandering off, do not speak to strange men.’
Tess felt her warm storybook glow vanishing. ‘I didn’t wander off. And I did not speak to him. He accosted me.’
‘You are far too trusting—as bad as that blasted kitten. You let yourself be carried about Ghent by a strange man, you spend the night with four of them…’
‘That is totally unfair! You knocked me down, you assured me I’d be safe!’
‘Not so much trusting as gullible,’ Alex snapped. The image of Sir Galahad wavered and vanished altogether. There were shouts on deck; the motion of the ship changed. ‘We’re coming into harbour.’ Alex climbed up the companionway and looked round. ‘We’d better get on deck before someone removes our baggage.’
Tess stalked after him with as much dignity as she could manage with a limp. As they made their way past sailors hauling down sails and securing ropes she saw that the harbour was getting closer by the second. England. Home? It will be in time, she reassured herself, trying not to glare resentfully at Alex’s back.
He reached their place under the mast and turned, flexing his hand as though reliving that blow. ‘I’m sorry, I should not have snapped at you. I was concerned when you did not come back.’ When she did not speak, he shrugged. ‘Look, I wanted to tear his head off and I couldn’t, not once he was unconscious. I was…frustrated.’
‘That’s a very primitive reaction.’ And an exciting one, I fear. When Alex simply grunted Tess smothered her smile and picked up Noel’s basket. ‘There’s a good boy. Did you miss your uncle Alex, then?’ There was a yowl and a ginger paw shot out of a gap in the weave and fastened on Tess’s sleeve. ‘Poor little chap, you want to get on dry land, don’t you?’
*
‘I have not made any promises about that hellcat,’ Alex said. ‘Any more nauseating baby talk and Uncle Alex will start thinking about glove linings again.’
Tess slanted a look at him that said she knew perfectly well he was bluffing. Minx. She seemed to be all right after that unpleasant scene. No vapours, no wilting into his arms at the most inconvenient moment. In fact, he had a strong suspicion that she would have had a go at the man herself, given half a chance. He managed to suppress a grin and checked their bags. ‘Don’t try to carry the cat basket. Wait there and I’ll get someone to fetch the lot.’
He walked to the rail and waited while the ship bumped against the quayside and the gangplank was let down, then he hailed a porter and made his way back across the now-crowded deck to Tess. She was sitting patiently where he had left her, looking around with intelligent interest. Drab, neat, brave little nun, he thought. She looked serious, a little anxious. Then she saw him and her face lit up in a smile that held nothing but pleasure at his return and something inside him went thud.
To have a woman smile at him was no novelty. The respectable ones were always glad to welcome him to their homes and their social events; the unrespectable ones greeted his interest with attention that flattered his title
and his pocketbook, if nothing else. But Tess’s warmth, her lack of artifice, were like an embrace. He was going to miss the chit when he handed her over, and he never thought he’d feel that about a respectable female. Or a lightskirt, come to that.
‘Those bags there.’ He pointed them out to the porter, who reached for the cat’s basket, as well.
‘Oh, be careful!’ Tess caught it by the handle.
‘I’ll carry it.’ Alex picked it up, gave Tess his other arm and offered up a silent prayer of thanks that no one he knew was likely to be around to view one of the ton’s most stylish gentlemen in a travel-stained condition and escorting a nun and a ginger kitten off a cross-Channel ferry.
‘Thank you.’ She was still limping a little and he tucked his arm close, trapping her hand against his side to make sure she was safely supported. She was just the right height for him. ‘You are kind, Alex.’
‘No, I am not.’ He steadied her down the gangplank, then directed the porter to follow them to the Red Lion. ‘I’m too selfish to be kind.’
‘Nonsense.’ She gave his arm a little shake.
‘I am. And too indolent to make the effort to be unkind,’ he added.
‘I don’t believe that, either. Perhaps you don’t care enough,’ Tess murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.
‘Care? Of course I care.’
‘What about?’ She tipped her head to one side to look up at him. ‘Other than your comfort?’
‘My friends.’ He’d die for them if he had to, not that he’d ever say so. A man didn’t need to; friends just knew. ‘Hunting down art and antiquities.’ My honour. That was something else you didn’t talk about, but it was why he lived as he did now.
‘Your family?’
Damn it, she was as persistent as that little cat once she had her claws into something. ‘No.’ Tess gave a little gasp and it stuck him that he might have been tactless. She had lost her own family and she probably did not need telling about someone who would mourn his mother and his sisters if anything happened to them, but who would be quite happy never to set eyes on his father and brother again.
‘Here we are.’ The open door of the Red Lion was a welcome sight and a distraction from uncomfortable thoughts. Alex dealt with the landlord, checked that the chaise was waiting, ordered hot water and a meal and paid the porter.
‘There’s your chamber over there.’ He gestured towards the door out of the private parlour as they found themselves alone. ‘They’ll bring some hot water in a moment.’
Tess ignored the gesture and suggestion. ‘I’m so sorry.’ She stood in front of him, her face a picture of concern.
‘Why? What for?’
‘I’m sorry that you are estranged from your family and that I raised the subject. It must be so difficult.’
‘Don’t be sorry.’ He shrugged. ‘Certainly it isn’t difficult. I just ignore them, they ignore me. They say you choose your friends but not your family, but you can choose how much you see of any of them.’ Had home ever really felt like a good place to be? It must have done once, before his father had decided that he was so utterly unsuitable to be his heir, such a disappointment to him.
‘But what if something happens to them?’
‘It won’t.’ He took her by the shoulders, turned her around and walked her to her chamber door. ‘My father’s like an ox.’ Certainly has the sensitivity of one. ‘Now freshen up, then we’ll eat and be on our way.’
Chapter Six
‘Goodbye and thank you so much for your assistance, my lord. For looking after me and for Noel.’ Tess stood outside the gates of the convent, her bag and the cat’s basket at her feet. Would a curtsy be appropriate? He was an earl… On the other hand she would probably fall flat on her face, and what she wanted to do was certainly not to make a formal gesture. Not at all. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him on that wicked, mobile, mocking mouth.
She managed her best smile instead. Chin up, back straight. Fairy-tale adventure over.
‘You’ll be all right now?’ Alex frowned at the metal-studded black oak of the door. ‘This doesn’t look like the most hospitable of places.’
‘Convents don’t, from the outside.’ Or the inside, in my experience. ‘And I will be perfectly fine. Thank you again.’ She put out her hand, brisk and impersonal, and when he took it and gave it a quick squeeze she tried not to think about how his arms had felt around her.
Alex pulled the iron chain beside the door. Somewhere far away a bell clanged. ‘I’ll wait in the carriage until you are safe inside. Goodbye, little nun.’ He stooped, dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and strode back to the chaise.
‘Yes?’ enquired a disembodied voice from behind the darkened grille while Tess was still fighting with a blush.
If she had only moved her head a fraction that brief kiss would have fallen on her lips. It would have been her first kiss. ‘Teresa Ellery. Mother Superior is expecting me.’
The door swung open and she stepped inside. It banged closed behind her and she heard the sound of hooves on the cobbles as the chaise moved off. The prison gates slammed behind the doomed woman… Stop it! The effect on the imagination of reading Minerva Press novels, smuggled in by the boarders, was exceedingly unwelcome just at the moment.
She limped after the silent nun down a dark, tiled passageway to a door. The sister knocked and opened it, urged Tess in with a gesture, then closed it behind her.
Offices in convents must be all created from the same pattern book. Dark walls, small fireplace, solid, plain desk placed uncompromisingly in the centre of the room with the chair turned with its back to the window and any possibility of a distracting view. It was all safely, depressingly, familiar.
‘Miss Ellery. I confess I am most surprised to see you.’ From behind the desk Mother Superior studied her, unsmiling. She was thin and pale and Tess thought she looked unwell.
‘Good evening, Mother.’ She bobbed an awkward curtsy, hampered by her sore ankle. ‘I was delayed on my journey—’
‘So I understand.’ The nun glanced to one side and Tess realised they were not alone. Seated against the wall was a middle-aged woman who looked vaguely familiar. ‘Delayed hardly seems adequate to cover your…activities. Mrs Wolsey was on the same boat as you from Ostend.’
Of course, this is the disapproving matron who glared at me.
‘Mrs Wolsey has a niece boarding at the convent. She recognised the clothing of the Ghent house orphans and then she recalled seeing you there.’
It began to dawn on Tess that all was far from well. ‘I missed the canal boat. I had a fall and hurt my ankle and—’
‘And took up with some rake. Yes, that much is obvious. Your disgraceful behaviour was observed. Embracing in public, sleeping in his arms, going into an inn with him. I am both deeply shocked and exceedingly disappointed, as will be my Sister in Ghent when I write to inform her of this.’
‘I can explain, Mother—’ Tess began, only to be cut off by a slicing hand gesture from the nun.
‘Enough. I have no wish to hear you make things worse by lying to me. I most certainly cannot have a woman of your character in this house. Your antecedents are bad enough, but this behaviour is the limit. You will leave at once.’
‘My character? But I have not done anything wrong. I can explain everything that occurred. It was all perfectly innocent. And what about my employment?’ The room swam with shifting shadows, flickering candlelight, waves of disapproval. It was unreal; she was bone-weary. Tess wondered vaguely if she was going to faint. Perhaps they would put her to bed if she did and she would wake up in the morning and this would all be a dream.
‘You think that I could recommend you to any decent household? There is only one kind of employment for fallen women, my girl, and I suggest you go and seek it forthwith.’
Not a dream. Fight back. ‘I did not do anything. I am not Lord Weybourn’s lover.’ Tess tried to stand up straight, find some authority in her voice. ‘I had an acci
dent, hurt my ankle. He helped me, just as I said.’ And I do not want to be here, with you, you judgemental old witch, she thought as a spark of anger burned through the confused fog of misery. My antecedents, you horrible woman? Two parents who loved each other, who loved me? I am illegitimate—how is that my fault?
‘Lord Weybourn? Hah!’ Mrs Wolsey said. ‘One knows all about the likes of him. A society rakehell, I have no doubt.’
‘How does one know this?’ Tess enquired. How dare this woman judge Alex? ‘I hardly think you would move in the same circles as he does, ma’am.’ The tail end of her temper was almost out of her grasp now.
‘You insolent girl,’ Mother Superior snapped. ‘You will leave at once.’
‘To cast a sinner out into the night is hardly a very Christian act.’ Tess abandoned the effort to be civil, hobbled to the door and, with her hands full of the portmanteau and cat basket, somehow got it open. ‘But I would not stay here now if you begged me. Good evening to you both.’
Behind her she heard a small bell ringing violently and the sound of Mrs Wolsey’s voice. She seemed to be gibbering with anger. Tess reached the front door before Sister Porteress caught up with her, flung back the bolts, stepped over the threshold and left the door swinging on its hinges. Moments later it slammed behind her with emphatic finality.
‘And I hope your righteous indignation keeps you warm at night,’ Tess muttered. In front of her was Golden Square, a white-stone statue at its centre glimmering faintly in the light from the lamps set outside the houses. Men muffled up against the dank mist hurried past, a cab rattled over the cobbles on the far side. A clock, quite close, struck nine.
Tess put down her luggage to pull her cuffs over her knuckles. Her mittens felt as though they had been knitted out of thin cotton, not wool, and her toes were already numb.
A woman walked slowly down the side of the square, so Tess picked up her things again and limped across to her. ‘Excuse me, can you tell me if there is anywhere near here where I can get lodgings? Only—’