Christmas at Ravencrest: A Dark Hero Christmas Short (Reluctant Heroes) (4 page)

BOOK: Christmas at Ravencrest: A Dark Hero Christmas Short (Reluctant Heroes)
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Elizabeth closed her eyes at the
thought of her beloved husband, her brothers, and what might have been if Captain Fletcher’s scheme succeeded. “So, you agree with me?”

“Yes,
my love. We will rejoice in our good fortune. Do not take his words to heart--”

Donovan’s valet
entered the room as summoned. Donovan glanced at his servant as he continued to hold Elizabeth in his arms. “My lady and I will be unavailable for the next hour or so. See that we are not disturbed.”

“Yes, sir.”  The man backed out of the room without question. Elizabeth heard the distinctive click of the lock as the valet locked the
door to the hallway, locking them inside.

“An hour or more?” She chastened, gazing up i
nto his tanned face. Try as she might, Elizabeth found it hard to maintain a severe expression with her beloved. Donovan was grinning at her, and the look in his eyes told her that his plans for an afternoon tryst would not be rushed.


You’ll thank me for this, later.” He boasted, sliding a light finger over her spine. “In fact, you’ll be in raptures over it soon, I guarantee it.”

“We shall see about that.” Elizabeth teased, running her hand up his chest, over his scars as his shirt lacings gaped open. “You’re terribly confident. One might th
ink you had this planned.”

Donovan always had a plan. At times, Elizabeth found it vexing that he felt the need to plan everything
out so methodically. As his wife she was coming to understand that as a scientist, his exhaustive intellect would allow nothing less.

A
t this moment he was carefully unlacing the back of her gown. She could feel the loosening of the fabric along her back.  His lips grazed along her neck and over her shoulder after his hand had pushed the fabric down to expose her tender flesh. “A successful outcome to any experiment demands extensive planning and preparation.”

“Am I an experiment, my lord?”

“No. You are my obsession.” His tongue slid lightly along her collarbone and drew tantalizing, moist circles along the base of her neck.

Elizabeth’s skin came alive under his careful attentions. She squirmed
a little, unable to stop as his darting tongue brought shivers of delight. Her dress dropped to the floor. She was standing before him in only her camisole and petticoat. It was a delightful situation to be in. And knowing the door was locked against intrusion gave her some respite from her more reticent inclinations.

Donovan lifted her
into his arms and carried her across the room.  He slipped through the side door leading to a small, windowless room where two cots awaited. It was a room set up for his patients as a place for recovery after surgery. Lacking patients at the moment, Donovan had set up the small interior room as a meeting place for them.

“You even
lit a candle.” She noted as he set her gently onto the cot.

He removed his shirt and
joined her on the narrow bed. “It’s a sad day when a man has to kidnap his wife just to enjoy a few stolen kisses.”

His lips devoured her mouth
. As his tongue teased hers, Elizabeth moved her hand over his long, muscular thigh to the large mound straining his breeches.


I believe your plan goes far beyond kissing, my lord.”

*   *   *

Elizabeth awakened suddenly with her head nestled on her husband’s bare chest.

She eased up on one elbow and gazed about the room with uncertainty until she recalled her surroundings. She’d fallen asleep in her husband’s arms after their lovemaking. And
Donovan, being ever the gallant one, did not disturb her repose.

“What time is it?” She asked, feeling a sense of panic as she realized there was still much to do this day. “How long was I asleep?”

“An hour, maybe more. Relax, love. Nothing is so urgent that we cannot lose ourselves in each other before tea time.”

Elizabeth sat up, and started to lace together
the opening of her camisole. Donovan’s hand prevented her progress as he deliberately reached beneath the fabric to cradle her breast. “Why did Pearl lock us in your laboratory?” She asked, recalling the oddness of the situation just now.

“To give us privacy. To assure
you that no one could disturb us.” Donovan’s hand brushed the fabric away from her breast. He sat up, and began suckling her nipple in a leisurely fashion.


But . . . Pearl is forgetful. You do have key to the hall door?”

“Yes, but there is
always the greenhouse. You could escape me through there if that were your desire, my love.”

“I ha
ve no desire to escape, as you say, but duty doesn’t pause because we wish it to.” She still had so much to do before the day was finished. There were gifts to collect for the staff. She must wrap them and label them accordingly. Between the preparations for the servant’s party, the family feast on Christmas Day and managing the care of her wounded and ailing family, Elizabeth had much work ahead of her.

Donovan
placed his arm about her waist as he lay back down on the pillow. He pulled her down with him and nuzzled the crown of her head with his lips.  The peacefulness of moments ago returned to her as she allowed him to hold her for a little longer. His skin was warm against her back and his warm hand on her belly formed a cradle over their growing child. He kept brushing soft kisses along her temple and through her loosened hair. “You said earlier you had bad news to deliver. Surely you didn’t mean your little disagreement with your grandfather?”


That news did take precedence, but no, the bad news is that we won’t have ham or beef for Christmas. It is to be pork, poached fish, crab, lobster cakes and turtle soup for us, I’m afraid.”

“I favor
turtle soup. And pork is the main source of meat on the island. There is always monkey,” He leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “However, I cannot recommend it.”

“Ugh.”
Elizabeth wrinkled her nose. His valet had a pet monkey. She couldn’t imagine eating monkey any more than she could eat a beloved cat for Christmas dinner. “My family is accustomed to Roast Goose, Duck or at least a ham for our Christmas dinner. And cherry tarts, not ones made with mangoes. We prefer mince pies and Christmas pudding to cornmeal porridge and we like English beef instead of fish, fish and more fish for
every
meal. Fritz even suggested using goat as a substitute for beef--“


Lizzie, my love, did you invite your family to spend Christmas with us?”

“You know I didn’t. They
decided to surprise us.”

“Well
, then, I suggest that they should be grateful to have barbequed goat and marinated monkey shanks provided for them at my expense and not complain. If they wanted Roast Goose, mince pies and cherry tarts they should have stayed in England.”


I’m happy they came. We have much to be grateful for . . .”

“My lord?” Pearl’s high nasal voice called from the outer room. “The workmen
from the docks await your approval on the delivery of your new equipment.”


Excellent, tell them I will be right there.” Donovan shouted over his shoulder as he rolled off the bed and reached for his shirt. “And as for your dilemma, my darling Mrs. Beaumont, you might send a note to Captain Rawlings requesting his assistance in the matter. If any man can find a stray ham or a rogue goose in the Indies, it would be Black Jack Rawlings.”


Truly? Do you think he could find suitable meat for our table at such late notice?” Elizabeth sat up on the bed with excitement. She laced her camisole, this time without any interference from her adoring spouse. Captain Rawlings was Donovan’s friend. He lived in Basseterre. More to the point, he and Donovan had been pirates together some years ago.

If anyone could help her acquire rare goods here in the Indies, it would be a former pirate.

 

 

 

Chapter Three

 

 

“My lady?” Giles, the butler, intercepted Elizabeth as she made her way to her sanctuary, the library, after repairing her appearance and looking in on her younger brother. Michael. “Lord Greystowe is being particularly fractious this afternoon. He’s asking for you. I believe he might rest easier if you looked in on him.”

Oh, bother. Elizabeth did not relish having to deal with Grandfather when he was in a mood. Yet, his heart condition meant he should not be agitated. She had little choice but to attend him.

After nearly an hour of listening to his complaints, most of them minimal, she headed for the stairs, determined once more to steal a quiet hour in her library before dinner and the duties of hostess claimed her attention for the remainder of the evening.

She descended the stairs
and was next met by Chloe Ramirez, her female companion.

“Oh, Madame. Please, you must he
lp us sort this out.” Chloe cried with her usual penchant for the dramatics. “The footmen are idiots. I told them to put the kissing ball in the doorway as you instructed. They hung it from the chandelier in the foyer instead. And Maria and Sally won’t help me make more bows. They claim there is too much to be done in the kitchen. We’re short several bows for the greenery . . . oh Madame? What am I to do? You have a broken wrist.
You
cannot help me tie the ribbons.”

Elizabeth rose to the challenge. She
sat at the small worktable in the parlor and tried to twist the red ribbons into the shape of a bow. She wanted to prove to Chloe and to herself that she could tie a bow, even with one hand. It was folly; trying to draw the loop tight with two fingers while tugging at the opposite loop with her thumb proved impossible. She attempted the feat several times, even using the elbow of her arm tied in splints to hold the bow down while trying to pull the loops with her good hand, only to swear under her breath as she tossed the fourth messy bow aside. It was a waste of half an hour before she finally stood and went to the bell pull, yanking it with vigor to summon a maid to help Chloe finish her decorating project.

A
fter quelling the minor storm that buffeted her friend’s afternoon, Elizabeth once again attempted to escape to her beloved library for a few moments peace. She’d just begun to read a new book that morning,
The Italian
by Mrs. Radcliffe, another Gothic delight recently published from that worthy lady.  Elizabeth wanted to find out what was going to happen to the heroine.

“My lady?” Sally, the head maid below the stairs, intercepted her. “Could you come to stables, we’ve a serious prob
lem? Its little Gavin. He’s got spots on himself, Mum.”

Oh, for heaven’s sake
! Why was it every time she attempted to gain a quiet moment in her private sanctuary someone required her attentions. If she didn’t know better she’d think the household were plotting together to keep her from obtaining the solitude she craved.

“Why haven’t you sought out
his lordship? He is a physician.” She countered.

“He’s out
at the moment, mum. I didn’t know what to do. Johnny’s awfully scared for his little brother.” Sally, surprisingly, sounded as if she might start to cry.

“Does he have a fever?”
Elizabeth asked, concerned for the child.


I believe so but it’s so hard to tell, mum. He has red spots, though, all over his face, his arms, everywhere, my lady.” Sally’s voice rose and trembled. “Oh, mum. Johnny’s parents died of the red fever. He can’t lose little Gavin, not after all they’ve come through.”

The news made her hea
rt grow tight. Gavin was the youngest stable boy. He was held hostage by her stepfather last week and had as yet not spoken a word since the incident. Now he was sporting a fever and mysterious spots? Following Sally, she hurried out to the stables and up the stairs to the loft where Johnny O’Reilly and his two younger brothers resided.

The tall
young man with ash blonde hair and brown eyes was of an equal age with Elizabeth, being just eighteen. O’Reilly had worked for Donovan for several years already, having gone from stable lad to head stable master. “Oh, Madame, thank you for coming. He’s in the other room. I made him take his shirt off so you might see the spots. It don’t look good, mum.” 

She went into the small bedchamber where three cots were lined
up. Gavin was sitting on the farthest near the window. The child was eight years old. “I’m sorry, my lady.”


Gavin
!” Elizabeth knelt before him and touched his cheek. This was the first time the child spoke since that terrifying incident last week. “Oh, dear. What is this?” She gazed at the red spots on his face. They were bright red, just as the maid reported. She touched Gavin’s brow. He was cool and dry to the touch, odd in this climate.

“They made me do it.”
Gavin whispered. He was gazing at her with sad, woe filled eyes.

“What, dear
est?” She asked, cupping his cheek. “Who made you do what?”

“Johnny, and his new sweetheart, Sally. Did you know they’ve been kissing in secret?”

“No, I didn’t.” She admitted. What the servants did in secret should concern her, but at this moment, she was more concerned with Gavin’s predicament. “Are they sweet on each other?” She asked, as she rose from her crouched position to sit on the bed next to him. As she spoke, she leaned away to inspect the curious spots on his back.

“Oh, yes. They go walking in the gardens every night, they do. Holding hands, and then he kisses her.
Or sometimes she kisses him first. Isn’t that disgusting? Do you think they’ll marry? Can you tell them not to be kissing no more?”

“Gavin!
” Elizabeth chastened. “What did you do to yourself?” Some of the mysterious spots were smearing onto her hand as she touched them. They were painted on. “What is this trick you’ve played on me?”


I told you, they made me do it. She painted them speckles on me. It was to draw you out of the house, mum. They didn’t think you’d come out here to see me otherwise.”

“Of course I would
.” She stood and rumpled his brown hair. “What is this red substance?”

“Juice, from the
truckle berries out back.” The boy confessed.

Elizabeth went to the small washstand. She poured water into the basin
with her good hand and dipped a cloth into it. Returning to the bed where the boy sat, she began wiping the red berry juice from his face and neck. He sat quietly, allowing his mistress to wash his false spots away. “Why did you play such a nasty trick on me? Gavin, this was not funny. It was very naughty.”

“We
were just following orders, my lady. Don’t be mad at us. His lordship set us to it.”

Elizabeth stopped scrubbing his arm.
Donovan put them up to this
? She stared sternly at him. “You aren’t making this up. I will ask his lordship, so don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not
lying, my lady.” His lip quivered. A rush of tears rimmed his eyes.

She set the cloth asid
e, deciding it best to let his brother clean him thus. Yes, now that she remembered it, Donovan did have some berries and a bowl of red liquid on his worktable when she’d visited him a few hours earlier. What was he about? Vexing man. It was a prank, clearly.

Donovan was not the sort of man to stoop to such
antics.

“Why did they lure me out here with the pretense of you being ill?”

Gavin shrugged, and looked away from her. He seemed determined to avoid her gaze. “He just said we were supposed to keep you busy today, Madame. Don’t tell ‘im I told you.”


Put on your shirt, young man. Tell Sally she is to supervise you and Danny in your preparation for the party tomorrow night. I want you boys to bathe, comb your hair and have your face scrubbed clean. I expect you both to be wearing your best clothes. Understood?”

“Yes, mum.” Gavin quickly shrugged in
to his shirt. The freckles sprinkled over his nose and cheeks were more pronounced now that he’d had his face freshly scrubbed. “I have a surprise for you, my lady. A Christmas surprise. It’s hidden in the stables. Can I show it to you, mum?”

Despite her annoyance over the prank,
Elizabeth wanted to hug the little boy.

He was speaking again
. She wanted to cry. She wanted to laugh. And she wanted to shake him and his accomplices for frightening her so with their pretense of an impending illness.

She nodded
her agreement and followed him to the main room. The guilty couple stood side by side, looking down at their shoes so as not to have to gaze directly at their mistress.

“Y
ou two have much to account for.” She said as she stood before them.

“Yes, Madame.” Johnny agr
eed, reluctantly meeting her eyes. He looked very sorry indeed. “As my brother said, his lordship put us up to it.”


Do you have any idea how frightened I was? Good heavens, I’ve an entire family wounded or ailing and then you give me news that a member of the staff might have a dangerous illness? Have a care. And mind that your brothers are scrubbed from stem to stern for tomorrow night’s ball and presentable.”

The pair no
dded and mumbled apologies to Elizabeth.

“Now th
en, Gavin, show me this surprise of yours.” She said brightly to the child, taking his hand. Donovan would get an earful from her. The man was behaving most strangely today.

Gavin
led Elizabeth to the back of the stables to an empty stall with clean, fresh hay on the floor. “I wanted to give you something special for Christmas but I don’t have no coin and I never gets to go to the port city to shop, even if I did. But Gracie, here, she done solved it for me, she did.” He knelt before a nest made from a pile of horse blankets. The boy grinned at the contents and gestured to Elizabeth to come closer.

Elizabeth
moved away from the door to the interior stall.


Oooohhh!
” She exclaimed as she knelt beside Gavin with awe and wonder. Gracie was a lovely milky white cat with red and grey calico markings. She was purring proudly, presiding over a litter of newborn kittens. “Oh, my word, they’re adorable.”

“Yep. They were birthed
three days ago. Their eyes ain’t even opened yet.” Gavin, like Elizabeth, was staring at the delightful little fur balls. They were squirming and mewing, fighting over their mother’s teats.

He picked one up for her to hold. It was a little black kitten with one white forepaw, and a white tip on its tail. It had a white moustache as well. It meowed pathetically, distressed to be away from its mama. “Oh, you’re a sweet thing.” Elizabeth rubbed his tiny head with her thumb. The mewling stopped as the tiny creature began to purr softly. “Oh, my gracious, listen.” She held the kitten to Gavin’s ear. He grinned.

They admired the family for a time. The kittens were a mix of colors. One was striped orange with white spots here and there in odd arrangements, making him look rather comical. One had grey tabby stripes that reminded her of a tiger and little white mittens on all four paws. Another was black with one white ear and one black, a milky white chin and white whiskers peeking out of its black face. Only one kitten ended up being completely black from ears to tail.

“My goodness, Gracie, who did you meet up with to have such silly looking offspring?” Elizabeth remarked with amusement.

“Yep, Gracie’s my cat, but I’ll let you have the pick of the litter. I know you got a cat up at the house, but you can have another one out here, your own kitten waiting for you out here in the stables.”

“Thank you.” Elizabeth was
touched by the boy’s offer. Her eyes were stinging. She wanted to hug the child, but knew better. She was the mistress and he was a stable boy. Grandfather had already chided her several times during his stay regarding her habit of being on too familiar of terms with the servants. Still, Gavin was just a child and his gift was the best one she could have hoped for at Christmas. After being kidnapped and nearly choked to death, frightened out of his mind, Gavin was finally talking again. 

A
nd he was sharing his most valuable possession with her, his newborn kittens.

Giving a gift from the heart and sharing good tidings of great joy.

Wasn’t that the true essence of the Christmas Season?

 

 

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