A Christmas Affair (7 page)

Amanda collapsed against the door, her defiance melting like the morning dew under a summer sun. She closed her eyes briefly and then opened them to send Linsley an apologetic smile. “I am sorry, Linsley,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I hadn’t meant to include you in all this.”

“Nonsense, miss.” The old man drew himself up proudly. “As butler, ’tis my duty to show undesirable persons the door. And in the case of your esteemed aunt, ’twas also my pleasure.”

Amanda’s smile softened and then disappeared. “She is the new owner of Lawrence Hall.”

“I know, miss.”

Of course he knew, she thought, turning back toward the parlor; Linsley knew everything. The man was a veritable fount of information, and the oddest thing was that he had never once been caught listening at keyholes. She closed the door quietly behind her, Linsley’s acuity forgotten as she resumed her seat. What was she going to do?

It was the middle of December, and if Aunt Elizabeth adhered to her promise to return at the end of January, that left her less than seven weeks to find a new home for her family. She’d contact the solicitor at once, of course. She’d sent him a note inviting him to Daniel’s memorial service, so he already knew the worst.

Perhaps he might know of some house she might hire, she thought hopefully. It needn’t be anything grand, just clean and sturdy, with enough room for the children and perhaps a few of the servants as well. She doubted any of them would wish to remain in her aunt’s employ, even if the old harridan would have them. And perhaps they might even arrange to sell the horses and ancient carriage sitting in the stables. They’d belonged to her stepfather and so were not entailed with the house.

Then there was the money Daniel had given them. One hundred pounds, if spent judiciously, could last months, longer even, if she practiced every economy. The thought spurred her on, and she grabbed a piece of paper, adding figures in a desperate attempt to solve her family’s current dilemma. But no matter how often she added them, or how many items she subtracted as unnecessary, the result was always the same. Two hundred and fifty pounds per anum was simply not enough to keep so large a family in anything approaching style.

Tears gathered in her eyes as she stared down at the
last column of figures. Stephen would be arriving home tomorrow; how was she to tell him there was no money for him to return to his beloved school? Thank heavens Christmas was so close. School would be closed for the holiday and she could. . . .

Christmas. She groaned, covering her face with her hands. What was she going to do about Christmas? Naturally with Daniel’s death they wouldn’t entertain as lavishly as they usually did, but the children, especially the younger ones, would still be expecting the usual trimmings. Presents, a fine dinner, and the
tannenbaum
that was part of the family tradition. How could she deny her family these things?

Suddenly Amelia knew that she could not. This could well be their last holiday as a family, and she was determined it would be the best they had ever known. She thought of the one hundred pounds that was Daniel’s last gift to his family, and a slow smile spread across her face. Foolish or not, she knew what she was going to do.

Chapter Four

“Shhh! You’ll wake him!”

“Will not, you old bossy! I just want to look at him.”

The quarrelsome voices edged into the thick mists filling Justin’s head, drawing him slowly out of the darkness. The speakers were young, male, and he was vaguely aware that he knew them. He frowned, trying to think of any drummer boy or powder monkey in his regiment daring enough to slip into his tent. Most of them seemed terrified of him, although God only knew why; he’d never spoken so much as a cross word to one of them. Before he could puzzle the matter any further, the voices drew closer and increasingly strident.

“Stop pushing! You almost made me spill it.”

“I’m telling Mandy! You know she said we wasn’t to come in here.”

“Well, since you’re in here with me, you’ll be in just as much trouble, so you’d best keep your tongue between your teeth. Now, you hold his nose and I’ll stick the spoon in his mouth.”

Seconds later Justin felt his nose being tentatively pinched, and then a spoon was thrust between his lips. At the sharp bite of raw spirits in his throat, he gave a choking gasp, sputtering indignantly as his eyes flew open to focus on the two wide-eyed youngsters standing beside his bed.

At first he thought he was seeing double, for the two were virtually mirror images of each other. He blinked his eyes to clear his vision, but both boys remained where they were, their expressions avid with curiosity as they gazed at him. They were twins, he realized with mounting confusion. What on earth . . . and then he remembered.

“Hello, Colonel Stockton,” the boy standing nearest the bed spoke first, taking a cautious step to bring him closer. “How are you feeling, sir? I trust you are more the thing?”

“Indeed,” Justin answered, sizing up the lad with a judicious eye. Unless he was much mistaken, he knew who had forced the foul medicine down his throat. His eyes flicked from the boy’s face to the brown bottle sitting on the bedside table, and a reluctant smile touched his mouth. Much as he disliked the notion of being drugged against his will, he couldn’t help but admire the imp’s pluck.

“Have I the honor of addressing Mr. Jeremey Lawrence, or Mr. Jocelyn Lawrence?” he asked, settling back more comfortably against his pillows.

“I am Jeremey; I’m the oldest.” Jeremey snapped to attention, preening with self-importance. “This is Jocelyn.” His brother was indicated with a casual wave of his hand. “But our last name isn’t Lawrence, sir, it’s Blanchford. Daniel was our half brother.”

“My apologies,” Justin murmured, recalling that Lawrence had said something about his mother remarrying. And last night at dinner hadn’t that disagreeable old witch made some mention of the matter? At least, he thought it was last night. His brows gathered together as he realized he had no idea what day it was or how long he had lain ill.

“Are you really better now?” Jocelyn crowded in beside his brother, his light blue eyes resting on Justin’s face. “Ain’t going to stick your spoon in the wall, are you?”

“I am completely recovered, Master Jocelyn, I promise you.” His mouth quirked in amusement at the lad’s suspi
cious regard. “The . . . er . . . medicine you gave me seems to have done the trick, thank you. May I ask how long I have been here?”

“Just one day,” Jeremey answered for his brother. “You was sick as a cat last night, but Mandy sent for the doctor and he dosed you.”

Justin had no recall of the doctor’s visit, but there was a vague memory of a soft voice and the soothing touch of a feminine hand stroking his face. Miss Lawrence? Or was it just a trick of the fever? He remembered the nightmares he’d had and without conscious thought his right hand reached out to touch his left arm. Still there, thank God.

“Will you be attending Daniel’s services, sir?” Jocelyn prattled on, unaware of the colonel’s dark thoughts. “It’s to be held in two days’ time, and Jeremy and I think it would be most splendid if you was to come.”

“And wear your uniform,” Jeremey added, his eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. “That would be ever so grand!”

Justin’s chest tightened at the boys’ eagerness. The bout of fever must have left him weaker than he realized, for he found himself blinking back tears at their earnest expressions. Had he ever been that young, he wondered, striving to control his voice.

“It would be my honor, gentlemen,” he said, clearing his throat. “Thank you for the kind invitation.”

The twins beamed at his acceptance and drew closer, their wariness forgotten as they began quizzing him. Justin answered their questions with an openness quite unlike his usually reticent nature, enjoying the demands of the lads’ bright conversation. He had just launched into a description of the siege of Cuiad Rodrigues when there was a loud gasp from the doorway.

“Joss! Jeremey!” Miss Amanda Lawrence stood in the doorway to his room, her hands on her hips and an aggrieved expression on her face. “Just what are you two do
ing in here?” she demanded, her brown eyes flashing as she advanced toward the boys. “I thought I had made it clear you were not to disturb the colonel.”

“We wasn’t disturbing him, Mandy!” Jeremey denied, and Justin had to hide a smile at the look of angelic innocence that flashed across the lad’s face. “We were giving him medicine.”

“What medicine?” Amanda knew her younger brother too well to be taken in by his sophistry. Jeremey was aware of the fact too and hopped off Justin’s bed (where he had been sitting for the last quarter hour), obediently retrieving the bottle from the table and handing it to his sister.

She opened the bottle curiously, her nose wrinkling in distaste at the strong smell of spirits. “Where did you get this?” she asked, returning the stopper to the bottle.

“From Linsley’s room,” Joss volunteered manfully assuming his share of guilt. “It was in his cupboard, but we was able to reach it by standing on a chair.”

“I see.” Amanda was aware of the colonel’s amused stare, and she was determined not to crack so much as a smile. She repressed her natural inclination to laugh at the twins’ antics, and fixed them instead with her most reproving look. “And did Linsley give you leave to enter his room and ferret through his belongings?” she asked her slippered feet tapping out an impatient tattoo as she awaited their answer.

Twin blond heads were hung in shame. “No, ma’am.”

“I thought not. Well then, you may return Linsley’s medicine to his room, and then you are to go and apologize to him for trespassing on his privacy.”

But, Mandy—”

“And once that is done, you are to go to your rooms and remain there until dinner.” she continued, ignoring their cries for clemency. “Am I understood?”

Jeremey and Joss exchanged speaking glances with one another before shuffling away with a muttered “Yes,
Amanda.”

She waited until the door had closed behind them before turning a knowing smile on Colonel Stockton. “My true name, you will note,” she said, advancing into the room and settling on the chair beside his bed. “Now I know I am in their black books. I hope they haven’t been pestering you. They are the dearest boys alive, but quite mad when it comes to the army.”

“Not at all, Miss Lawrence. In fact, I found them quite charming. A family trait, it would appear,” Justin answered, eyeing her with cool skepticism. He was unaccustomed to the presence of a lady — at least, a respectable lady — in his bed chamber and could only wonder at her lack of propriety. For a brief moment he wondered if she was attempting to compromise him.

“Cut line, sir!” Amanda laughed at his flattering words. “I saw your expression when I was giving those scamps the dressing down they deserved. You looked as if you thought me the cruelest sister alive!”

Her words reassured Justin to such a degree that he felt a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well,” he conceded with a wry drawl, “perhaps I did think you a trifle hard on them. No man likes having a peal rung over him in the presence of other men, you know, especially by an older sister. And they really weren’t bothering me.”

“Perhaps not, but I left strict instructions that you were not to be disturbed, and like all good commanders, I expect my orders to be carried out without question,” Amanda answered with a ready smile. She was usually not so bold with men, but for some inexplicable reason, she found herself able to relax in his presence. Perhaps it had to do with the fact she had helped nurse him, she decided with a sudden flash of intuition. It was really rather hard to be intimidated by a man after one had spent several hours bathing his fevered brow.

She was aware that her remaining in a bachelor’s bedchamber would doubtlessly shock the local gentry senseless, but she didn’t care for what they thought. Propriety, while it was something she always tried to instill in her recalcitrant family, was something she seldom troubled herself with. Why should she? At six and twenty she was an acknowledged spinster and, as such, safely immune from the strictures that applied to marriageable females.

“But enough of that, sir,” Amanda continued briskly, aware of the silence that had fallen between them. “How are you feeling? You’re looking much better, I must say.

“I’m feeling much better, thank you, ma’am,” he replied, feeling a sudden awkwardness. He had a faint memory of collapsing in the parlor room and was mortified by his lack of control. He shifted restlessly on the bed forcing himself to meet her velvet brown gaze.

“I hope you will accept my apologies for causing you such inconvenience,” he said, his voice stiff with formality. “It was not my intention to land myself on you when I arrived, I promise you.”

“I’m sure it was not.” Amanda had to hide a laugh at his rigid expression and the hard line of his mouth as he offered the oh-so-proper apology. Heavens, what a prig he was, she mused, although she was careful to keep such thoughts to herself. She remembered how unbearably prim Daniel had been after returning home from his first posting, and how she and the others had teased him out of what they called his starched collar period.

“You have only yourself to blame for it,” she admonished in a rallying tone, waggling her finger at his recumbent form. “Williams told me the ship’s surgeon warned you against undertaking so arduous a journey.”

Rather than responding to her teasing scold with a smile as Daniel would have done, Justin’s brows rose haughtily. “That was quite impossible, Miss Lawrence,” he informed
her in his most superior tones. “I had given your brother my most solemn vow that I would deliver that packet to you, and a Stockton always keeps his word.”

“That may as be, sir,” Amanda continued, still hopeful of jollying him out of his present mood, “but after so long a time, a delay of a few more days would not matter. Williams told me you were badly wounded at Vitoria and have only now recovered from those injuries.”

“Williams seems to have told you a great deal,” Justin responded coldly, annoyed by his valet’s loquaciousness. “Which reminds me, where is he? ’Tis not like him to be so derelict in his duties.”