Music and Mistletoe: A Ridlington Christmas Novella Page 3

  She watched him walk to the door and felt a tiny tremor course through her newly-awakened body.

  But nobody said it had to be this complicated, either.

  Chapter Four

  “Sounds like somebody’s in trouble, sir…” Edward was already heading across the hall as Grace and Perry emerged from the parlour.

  “Indeed, yes. Let’s see what’s happening.” Perry followed the lad, with Grace close behind. The scene that met their eyes as Edward swung the front door wide was one of utter chaos.

  Two carriages, eight horses and what seemed like a hundred children were tangled into a muddle that had the adults amongst them yelling out instructions, directions and rebukes.

  “Grab the reins,” shouted the well-dressed gentleman.

  “Mary, hold your sister’s hand and climb over it. I know you can…” A woman spoke sharply to a young girl who grabbed for an even younger girl.

  “Jonathan, Mark and Anthony. To me. Now.” A sturdy older woman addressed three young boys with a commanding tone that was instantly obeyed.

  “I got ‘em, sir. They’re free now…” The man who must have been the driver was hanging on to four of the horses for dear life, as his feet slithered and slipped in an attempt to find purchase on the icy driveway.

  “Well done.”

  He was clearly the parent of the brood, deduced Perry, observing how the others glanced his way now and again. Therefore he was the one that should be addressed. “Can we be of assistance, sir?” He shouted from the front step.

  His yell made everyone look in his direction and for a few moments things quietened down.

  “If you could melt the ice it would help,” answered the man ruefully. “I do apologise for disturbing you, but we could go no further.” He looked at the still confused chaos. “In fact, it’s a miracle we were able to travel this far. We had to get off the road…it’s quite terrible.”

  “You must come inside, sir. You and your family.” Grace stepped to Perry’s side. “’Tis cold for the children, and too dangerous at the moment.”

  Her point was ably emphasised by one of the young girls who attempted to break free of her sister’s grasp only to lose her footing almost immediately.

  The older woman reached out and grasped the child’s arm, swinging her back onto her feet with a move that spoke to decades of experience with youngsters.

  “We would be most grateful,” replied the harried mother. “Children. Listen to me now. We are going to go into this house, but you must be careful on the ice. The steps look clear, so slowly make your way to them. Do you hear me?”

  “Yes, Mama,” chorused several young voices.

  Perry sighed as he observed them heading toward him. He’d managed to avoid persons of such a tender age for most of his life. Now it looked as though this lot would be making up for his negligence. “I hope you know what you’re going to do with ‘em,” he murmured to Grace.

  “Me?” She raised her eyebrows. “It’s potentially your house, Perry.”

  “And we’ve been here all of what…an hour or so?”

  She patted his arm. “We shall manage. We’re enterprising and inventive adults.”

  He snorted. “Right now, I feel as helpless as if I were twelve.”

  The children made it to the first step and stood there, looking a little confused and slightly nervous. Their parents were sorting out bags and their nurse was making her way to them, clutching at anything that didn’t move. She slipped once, her feet flying out from beneath her, her arms hanging on to a piece of the carriage as her boots and petticoats flapped like a captured goose.

  The two older lads turned their heads away to hide their giggles and Perry did his best to hide a chuckle.

  “Twelve years old, you said?” commented Grace. “Well, it seems you’ll fit right in.”

  “Oh, my gracious,” breathed the woman, finally reaching the steps and her children. She looked up to the door where they stood. “I cannot begin to thank you for your kindness.”

  “Nor I,” added her husband, who had skated his way to his wife’s side with a surprising amount of efficiency given his boots, his heavy cloak and the large valise tucked under one arm.

  “Please do come in,” beckoned Perry, standing aside as they crossed the threshold.

  “We were trying to reach the other side of Stoat’s End,” sighed the woman. “Our home cannot be more than half a dozen miles from here. But this ice…quite frightening.” She shuddered. “A miracle the carriage didn’t slide off the road into a ditch.”

  “When we saw your entrance and the lights in the house, we did the only thing we could think of and pulled in,” finished her husband.

  “I’m glad you did,” answered Perry. “This is not a day to be abroad.”

  “Indeed not.” Grace smiled. “We should make some introductions, I believe. I am Mrs. Grace Chaney. This is my good friend Sir Peregrine Hawkesbury. We are visiting here to see if the property might suit Sir Peregrine’s needs for a country home.”

  The man blinked. “You mean this isn’t your house?”

  “Er—not yet,” answered Perry. “But the current owner vacated the house a little while ago. So it’s just us for now.”

  “We had planned on returning to London this afternoon,” added Grace. “That’s obviously out of the question now, given this miserable storm.”

  The children stood silently while this conversation took place, but only for so long. A small hand tugged on her mother’s cloak.

  The woman looked down. “Yes, Mary?”

  “I’m hungry, Mama.”

  “And I have to piss.”

  “Jonathan.” His mother was scandalised.

  His father clipped him around the ear. “You know better than that, lad. Don’t let me hear you speak like that again.”

  “Sorry Papa.” The boy looked repentant, but then started fidgeting. “But I do…really…”

  “If you’ll allow me, sir,” Edward grinned. “I can assist the young gentleman.”

  “Bless you, Edward.” Perry turned to the father. “If it’s all right with you, sir?”

  “Of course. Go with him, Jonathan. And none of your sass now. You hear?”

  “Yes sir.” The boy turned to Edward. “Please can we hurry, sir?”

  Grace couldn’t hide her smile. “You have lovely children, Mrs. …”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. What was I thinking?” She blushed. “We are the Muirs. My husband, Frederick, and I’m Georgina. And our indispensable nurse, Mrs. Godfrey. Thank you again for offering shelter.” She dipped a polite curtsey.

  Perry extended a hand to Mr. Muir. “Glad you’re safe, sir. Leave your outer garments here, and let’s warm you all up a bit.”

  Mr. Muir shook the offered hand gratefully, as his offspring babbled around him, pleased to be out of the bitter cold. “We’re in your debt, Sir Peregrine.” He glanced at the empty hall, where voices bounced off the floor and around the wooden walls. “I think you’ll be even happier to see us gone. My brood tends to prefer volume in their discourse at the moment.”

  Grace smiled. “Children need to exercise their lungs as well as their opinions, Mr. Muir. I have no doubt we shall survive the experience. Come along, all of you…there’s a fire in here, and the furniture has seen plenty of wear, so small hands cannot do much more harm.”

  *~~*~~*

  From being an empty parlour with an air of disuse, the room became transformed into a bustling space filled with voices.

  Grace blinked at the change, wondering how a few children could effect such an enormous transition. Her head told her there were five, in spite of the fact her ears were telling her there were at least twenty. She had quickly learned their names. Jonathan was the oldest, then came Anthony, and Mark—the youngest boy.

  Then there was Mary, and little Elizabeth, who might well have been the baby. Grace couldn’t guess at the age difference between Mark and Elizabeth, but they seemed very close in years.

  It
didn’t take too long to settle them all in front of the fire, and Edward promised to make sure food was served within the hour.

  That announcement brought lively cheers from the youngsters and raised Edward to hero status in their eyes.

  Mrs. Muir sat next to Grace, looking as weary as one would expect, given that she was travelling with five offspring. Mrs. Godfrey had taken a chair toward the back of the room and was busy fastening Miss Elizabeth’s ribbons.

  “A tiring trip, I must imagine, Mrs. Muir.” Grace glanced around. “They are wonderful children, but I will confess I don’t envy you.”

  The other woman shook her head. “You’re quite correct. We’re fortunate with our family, and the visit to their grandparents in London was long overdue, so it ended up being longer than usual. So much luggage, of course, meant two carriages.” She shrugged. “We’d have all been in one carriage otherwise. And at the last minute we delayed to attend early morning services in St. Paul’s cathedral, thus ending up on the road in the middle of this dratted storm.”

  “Was it worth it?”

  “Oh yes,” enthused Mrs. Muir. “St. Paul’s is everything we’d hoped, and more. They played some Christmas carols, and we all came out feeling quite jolly and ready to return home for our own little celebrations. But apparently that was not to be. Not this morning, anyway.”

  Grace’s attention was distracted by the sound of Perry’s laughter and the sight of little Mark resting against his leg as he spoke intently to the older man.

  “Young Mark seems quite forthcoming,” she observed.

  Mrs. Muir sighed. “A wee bit too forthcoming, we think, since he’s barely five years old. But then again, none of our family is shy.” She paused. “Well, except Elizabeth. She and Mark are twins, you know. ‘Tis possible she received all the shyness and he all the open and trusting exuberance.”

  Grace grinned. “Or he could just be a typical boy with a sunny nature.”

  “Indeed. I do hope that may be the case.”

  As if she’d heard her name, Elizabeth walked shyly over and stood close to her Mama, looking at Grace.

  “Hello Elizabeth,” she smiled. “Have you warmed your toes yet?”

  The little girl nodded, and stepped closer to the chair. “What are those funny marks?” She pointed at Grace’s face.

  Mrs. Muir gasped as her daughter stared at the scars marking Grace’s cheek. “Elizabeth, no. That is very rude of you…” Anguish and embarrassment flooded her voice.

  “’Tis all right,” reassured Grace, although inside she wanted to seize the nearest shawl and wrap it around her head. She’d forgotten—forgotten—the damn things.

  How could she?

  Her mind flashed back to what she and Perry had done in this very room, and how distracted she’d been when the carriages collided outside the window. She hadn’t been thinking about her scars at all at that moment and it seemed the events that followed had continued to distract her.

  Damn it, damn it.

  She fought down her ingrained urge to cover the marks with her hand, and dredged up a smile for the innocent little face looking at her. “They are scars, Elizabeth, from something that happened a long time ago.” She took a breath, feeling that the whole room had stilled in order to listen.

  “If you’ve ever skinned your knee or accidentally cut your finger, you’ll understand what I mean. Sometimes, the marks left behind go away. These didn’t.”

  “Do they hurt?”

  “Elizabeth, I swear I shall put my hand over your mouth any moment,” squawked Mrs. Muir, flushed and reaching for her blunt-spoken daughter.

  “Hush,” Grace lifted her hand. “Children deserve honest answers to honest questions, Mrs. Muir. I’m sure you believe that as much as I do.”

  She returned her attention to Elizabeth who was now standing at the arm of the chair and leaning over it, curiously examining the side of Grace’s face.

  “When it happened, yes, Elizabeth. It hurt quite a bit. But now? No, I do not feel them at all.”

  “You have a pwetty smile,” commented the little girl. “I’m glad they don’t hurt because you wouldn’t smile if they did, would you?”

  “No, that’s quite right. And thank you for saying such a kind thing.”

  Elizabeth pirouetted on her toes and danced over to her Mama. “Don’t you think she has a pwetty smile, Mama?”

  By this time, Mrs. Muir didn’t seem to know how to reply, or what to do with her little daughter. She nodded, agreed and then grabbed Elizabeth’s arm, suggesting in no uncertain terms that she return to Nurse and sit quietly for a while.

  Grace was amused at the mix of love and menace in the words; a balance that only a mother could achieve.

  She caught Perry’s eye, noting his subtle wink of approval.

  For once, her scars hadn’t caused any whispers, or looks of pity. In fact, they’d been mentioned, discussed, and dismissed, as the conversation in the room had now moved on to other things.

  She wished she dared believe that they were as unimportant to the rest of the world as they were to this tiny gathering. But that was a step she couldn’t find the strength to take.

  Not yet, anyway.

  Chapter Five

  How the kitchen staff managed it, Perry didn’t know, but within an hour of the Muir family arriving on the doorstep, the dining room table was laden with stout country fare, and both children and adults were able to feast on the bounty provided.

  “Jolly good pie,” observed Jonathan, casting wistful glances at the last piece on the dish.

  “Everything is superb,” sighed Mrs. Muir, touching her napkin to her lips.

  “It is,” agreed Sir Peregrine. “I am becoming more and more inclined to seriously consider an offer on the property, as long as the Cook and Edward are included.”

  Grace chuckled. “You could do worse.”

  Mr. Muir looked around. “It has good bones, Sir Peregrine. Forgive my expression, but my father is an architect. I grew up amidst a variety of schematics, so although I’m not an expert, I can tell when a house is solid and can stand the test of time.”

  Perry smiled and nodded his acknowledgement. “Then I will take your commendation into account, sir. And I thank you for the observation. Did you follow in your father’s footsteps?”

  Mr. Muir shook his head. “No. The business of building houses wasn’t appealing to me, although I enjoyed watching my Papa work on his designs.”

  “Papa has a bank,” said Mark with pride. “He has lots of money.”

  Mrs. Muir laughed. “Well, I suppose that makes sense to a little one.” She turned to Grace. “What he means is that my husband manages several of our local banks from his office in Stoat’s End. He does not, unfortunately, have access to all the funds in the bank, just our own.”

  “So how is business in the area?” Perry leaned back in his chair and watched the other man’s expressions.

  “It’s as good as can be expected right now,” answered Muir. “I cannot say thriving, since this year has been one disaster after another.” He sighed. “We’ve seen so many loan applicants; farmers, dairies, anyone and everyone whose lives have been affected by the weather. It’s been difficult to make sure we help where we can, without reducing our assets beyond what is secure for the bank itself.”

  Perry nodded. “I do understand. There have been many discussions in London about how best to keep the country afloat, yet none have had a practical impact so far. It’s a national problem, sir, not just a local one. And I applaud your efforts to help.”

  Elizabeth yawned, a jaw-cracking gape that attracted her mother’s attention. Since Nurse Godfrey had joined them for the meal, Mrs. Muir nodded across the table at her. “I think we might need to settle our little ones for a nap, Goddie,” she said.

  Perry blinked as the implications of that comment sank into his brain. “Um…I should mention that Mrs. Chaney and I haven’t had chance to go upstairs yet.”

  Grace widened her eyes. “O
h dear, that’s true. We must remedy that situation immediately.” Pushing away from the table, she stood and shot Perry a quick look. “If this storm doesn’t let up, we’ll have some rooms prepared to welcome our guests overnight, and that means sleeping accommodations for everyone. I think we’re overdue for an upstairs inspection?”

  “Indeed,” Perry rose as well. “But no guarantees on what we may discover…”

  “I understand,” said Mr. Muir. “No matter what, you have our gratitude, Sir Peregrine. I’m sure we’ll make do until the storm has passed.”

  Perry could only hope that would be true, since the thought of a family of seven sleeping on the floors or whatever couches they could find, did not fill him with enthusiasm.

  The children, ready for the next adventure, were eager to explore, so—under the watchful eye of their Goddie—the entire troop ascended the curved staircase and reached the upper floor.

  Perry found himself pleasantly surprised.

  Signs of wear and tear were present here as well, in the faded carpet, and the walls bearing the evidence of years of handprints. But the wood wainscoting glowed, and the windows, though a bit dirty, held the cold at bay.

  The master suite still retained its beds, and Grace declared it would suit the Muirs. There were two adjoining rooms with a small sitting room in between, which allowed parents and children to be within earshot of each other. A pleasant addition was a maid’s room off one bedroom—obviously meant for the lady of the house and her attendant.

  “Oh this will work so well,” Grace smiled at Mrs. Muir. “The bedding might be a bit dusty…”

  “We can’t…this should be for Sir Peregrine, surely…” The woman looked distraught.

  “Of course you can.” Perry walked over to them. “It’s ideal. And I’m sure there are other rooms we can make do with for a night if it comes to that. As soon as the weather clears we’ll be heading back to town, so please…let’s all be warm and safe for the moment?”

  “Mama, I’m tired.” Elizabeth whispered to her mother.