Timeless Regency Collection: A Country Christmas Part 17

"Come on into the kitchen, then." She led them down a few steps into a low-ceilinged room and indicated a scrubbed wooden table with a bench on either side. Jane sat, sliding over to make room, then nearly slipped off the end when Kathleen scooted in beside her, followed by Maryann. The men sat across from them, their backs against the stone wall.

Jane studied the kitchen. It was well used, just like the outer room, and very tidy. Eliza Cringlewood obviously took pride in her home. On one side of the room, their cloaks were laid over wooden drying frames, hats and bonnets beside them. Everything was clean and neatly in place. Curtains with yellow flowers hung over the window, the colors faded irregularly with the folds in the fabric, and above the table was a small painting of a seascape in a simple wooden frame. She saw a red ribbon tied around a sprig of mistletoe hanging over the doorway. Jane had come from a modest background, but her father had employed a cook, and they'd always taken meals in the dining room. She thought this humble kitchen was extremely cozy and liked the simplicity she saw around her.

Eliza stirred a pot hung from a metal arm over the hearth, then ladled soup into bowls. She set a basket of sliced peasant bread onto the table as well.

Jane inhaled. The food smelled delicious.

Eliza curtseyed again when she set a bowl in front of Archie. "I apologize, my lord. We've only simple fare, and no fancy dishes to serve such important guests."

"This is perfect, Mrs. Cringlewood. Thank you," Archie said and lifted a spoonful to his mouth.

"If ya please, my lord," Simon said, "I'll say grace first."

Once he'd finished praying, Simon bid them eat. He fetched a straight-backed chair from the other room for Eliza and helped her sit.

Jane was touched by the thoughtful gesture. Watching the couple warmed her heart. They were much like Maryann and Jonathan in the concern they showed for each other, even though their stations in life were so different. How would it be to have a partner to look after her-and whom she could look after in return?

"My lord, we've not much to offer," Simon said. "But the lot o' you are welcome to sleep here tonight." He glanced at his wife, who nodded her a.s.sent to the proposal.

"Your offer is very generous," Archie said, "but I'd not dream of imposing on you more than we have already. We'll either risk the road back to town and find an inn or make the manor habitable for the night." Archie rubbed his face again, and the room was silent except for the sound of wooden spoons sc.r.a.ping against crockery bowls.

Jane wanted to tell him the situation wasn't as bad as he thought. They were warm and safe, with two kind people caring for them.

Archie stared at a spot on the table, lines of worry pressed between his brows. He looked up, catching Jane's gaze.

She gave a smile.

Archie grimaced. I'm sorry, he mouthed.

She let her smile grow, hoping it looked encouraging. She reached across the table and squeezed his hand, then returned to her soup, surprised at herself for such a forward action. But it seemed important for him to know he had her support.

After a moment, Archie turned to their hosts. "This supper was just the thing for cold, weary travelers, Mrs. Cringlewood. You are a marvelous cook."

Her face reddened at the compliment. "Eliza, my lord."

Archie dipped his head in acknowledgment.

"I concur. As fine a bowl of onion soup as I've ever had," Kathleen said, and the others chimed in their agreement.

Eliza's face grew even redder. She cleared her throat. "My lord, if ye'll permit a suggestion?"

"Yes, of course," Archie said.

"Th' gardener kept a cottage 'fore 'e moved into town to care for his mum," Eliza said. "'Tisn't grand like your lords.h.i.+p's used to, but perhaps 'twill do for one night . . ."

Simon bobbed his head. "Don' know why I didn't think o' it earlier. Much quicker to heat and put in order than the manor house."

"And where is it?" Archie asked.

"Just a little ways off, down near the pond in th' forest," Simon said. He stepped past his wife and opened a cupboard. "I've a key 'ere somewhere. . . ."

Jane felt the others tense at the word forest, and she knew her bouts of panic were the reason. She felt a rise of defensiveness inside. She was not going to succ.u.mb to panic. She'd not had a spell for months.

Archie grimaced, looking as if he were preparing to reject the idea. He looked to Jane and raised his brows, as if asking for her advice.

She couldn't imagine it was truly the case. She just must have been the person whose eyes he met first. Nonetheless, Jane leaned forward, and he did the same. "I think it's a fine idea." She spoke in a quiet voice, even though the others could certainly hear everything she said in such a small s.p.a.ce.

His eyes tightened as if he were uncertain.

"And it is only for one night. We'll make do," she said.

Archie brushed her hand with his fingers, and a small smile pulled at his lips. He looked at the others, whose expressions likewise conveyed their agreement. "Very well." He lowered his shoulders and gave a determined nod. "Simon, if you please, my coachman is in the manor stables. I'm certain you could reach him faster than I. Would you make certain the horses have sufficient feed and take some soup to him? He should be fine staying in the grooms' quarters tonight."

"Yes, my lord." Simon bowed his head and left the room.

"And, Eliza, if we might intrude on your hospitality a bit longer, we will await Simon's return and then set off for the gardener's cottage."

She nodded. "Yes, of course, your lords.h.i.+p." She left the room as well, presumably to help her husband don his outer clothing.

Archie turned back to the table, his brows pinched together. "I-"

"Do not apologize. I forbid it," Mother Kathleen said.

Archie's mouth snapped shut.

She rose, and the men attempted to stand, hunched beneath the low ceiling, their legs bent by the bench pressed against the wall. "I have enjoyed every moment of this trip so far, Lord Symons," Kathleen said in her most authoritative voice. "And I am determined to continue to do so."

She exited the room. Jonathan and Maryann followed.

Archie scooted along the bench until he stood, head bent forward beneath the low ceiling. He offered his hand, and Jane took it, sidling along the bench to join him.

She took a step toward the stairs, but he stopped her with a tug on her hand.

"You are certain the gardener's cottage will be all right?"

She knew what he was asking. Would the forest frighten her into having an attack? "It will be all right, Archie."

"How do you always remain so calm, Jane?"

She looked away, not meeting his eyes. "You know I do not, sir." Archie had seen her in the midst of one of her panic spells, and the knowledge was humiliating.

He stepped close, keeping hold of her hand and closing the distance between them, forcing her to tip back her head to look up at him. "This turn of events has made me angry and frustrated, but right now I feel calm. When I am with you, weight rolls off my shoulders. Somehow, you ease my troubles."

"I am glad that I can be of some use, then." She knew her answer sounded trite, but with him so close, she had trouble thinking. Her heart pounded so forcefully that she felt her pulse p.r.i.c.kling in her fingers.

Archie's eyes flicked to the doorway overhead.

She glanced up and saw the mistletoe. Her breath caught, and the air between them felt hot.

His fingertips brushed her chin, and his eyes darkened as he studied her, bending forward.

Jane closed her eyes, every nerve tingling in antic.i.p.ation as Archie pressed a very gentle, very chaste kiss . . . on her cheek.

She drew in a breath and opened her eyes, then smiled in an attempt to conceal her disappointment, even though her heart felt like it was shrinking.

What did I expect?

She scolded herself for her misplaced hopes and turned away, feeling childish at the tears that gathered in her eyes. For a moment, she thought she'd seen something different in Archie's expression, something more than simply friends.h.i.+p, but she was mistaken. She'd seen what she'd wanted to see. I am a fool, she thought. She pulled her hand free and hurried up the steps.

Chapter Three.

The sound of knocking roused Archie from a fretful night's sleep. He rolled from the cot in the loft, rubbing his eyes and wincing at the feel of rough wood beneath his bare feet. Below, he heard voices, and so he dressed quickly, wis.h.i.+ng he had hot water for a shave. With no mirror, he tied his neck cloth by feel alone, hoping he looked remotely presentable. What must his friends think of him after spending the night in this cold, dusty old house?

He moved to the edge of the loft and, seeing no one below, determined the voices must be coming from the kitchen area directly beneath him.

When he descended, he saw that Eliza Cringlewood and Mother Kathleen tended to a pot of porridge hanging over the fireplace, and Jane was placing bowls and cups on the round wooden table.

Jane looked up when he stepped off the ladder. "Good morning."

Her smile lacked its usual warmth, and Archie kicked himself for his actions the night before. What was he thinking, acting so presumptuous as to kiss her like that? He'd quite obviously upset her but didn't know what to say to make it right. Telling her the kiss didn't mean anything would, of course, be a lie, and saying it had happened by accident was actually rather insulting.

"Good morning, Jane." He took two cups from her hands and placed them on the table. "Did you sleep well?" He grimaced, thinking of the small, dingy room with the straw mattress that she'd shared with Mother Kathleen.

"Quite well, thank you." She turned away toward the cupboards.

"Good morning, Archie," Kathleen said.

He would have to make another attempt to regain Jane's good favor at a later time. He turned toward the other women. "And good morning to you, Mother Kathleen, Eliza."

Eliza curtseyed.

"I hope we didn't wake you," Kathleen said. "We tried to keep quiet."

He put his arm around the older woman. "I am utterly ashamed that you were all awake and dressed before me. What kind of host am I?"

She rolled her eyes. "A tired man who spent the whole of the night making certain his friends were comfortable. I do not know how many times you and Jonathan trekked back and forth to the manor house for luggage and blankets."

"Only a few." He yawned. The company had not gotten to sleep until well into the early morning hours, and he could not imagine how the others were awake so early.

The door opened, letting in a blast of frigid air and a burst of snowflakes. Simon entered, his cheeks and nose red and his arms full of firewood. "Brought ya some more wood, my lord." He closed the door with his foot and set the logs onto a pile beside the fireplace.

"Thank you. But that is beyond what we will need. Remember, we are leaving after breakfast."

"I'd not recommend a journey just yet, my lord. The snow's not stopped fallin' all night. Don' think a carriage will make it to town. Yer 'ere for another day, at least."

Archie's heart dropped, and he closed his eyes, taking a calming breath. I have ruined Christmas for all of us. The five of them could have been at this very moment warm, well-rested, and happily preparing for his mother's holiday party.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Jane and Kathleen looked particularly unaffected by the p.r.o.nouncement, which was shocking to say the least. Maybe they a.s.sumed he and Jonathan would figure a way out.

"Come have some porridge, Archie," Kathleen said. "And thoughtful Eliza brought b.u.t.termilk as well." She waved away Eliza's attempt to lift the pot, taking the cloth from her, and wrapping it around the hot handle. Then she brought the steaming pot to the table and motioned for him and Jane to sit.

The Cringlewoods bid them farewell, promising to check on the horses and take food to Tom in the grooms' quarters.

Kathleen ladled porridge into a dish and poured in b.u.t.termilk, then sprinkled sugar over the top. Archie had always been impressed by the woman's self-sufficiency. She had grown up under very different circ.u.mstances than his own, and seeing her stir the porridge reminded him that she had not always been waited on by servants.

Jane stood and reached for Archie's bowl. "May I?"

"Thank you." He pa.s.sed it to her, but she still avoided his eyes while she served him.

They ate in silence, Archie trying to come up with a strategy to get five people and their luggage, six horses, and a carriage driver out of Chiddingfold Forest. He devised and then dismissed scenario after scenario, feeling more hopeless with each attempt.

Jane's spoon clattered into her bowl, and she jumped up, startling him out of his pondering.

She hurried around the table. "Mother Kathleen!" In an instant, her arm was around the older woman's shoulders.

Tears ran down Kathleen's face.

Archie moved to her other side, offering a handkerchief. "My dear, what is the matter?"

She took the handkerchief and waved them away, wiping her eyes and making a very wet sniffing sound. "Oh, you must forgive a silly woman. Back to your breakfast, you two."

Jane looked at Archie, her brows pinched together in worry.

He lifted his shoulders, not sure whether to obey.

Kathleen waved her hand again. "I am not weeping out of sorrow. Please sit down."

They exchanged another uncertain glance, but returned to their seats.

After a moment, Kathleen took in a jerky breath and blew it out slowly. "Oh, what happy memories this morning has brought. The taste of the porridge, the smell of wet firewood and dusty stone walls. It reminds me so very much of my grandparents' house in Northumberland. My grandfather was a tailor, you know. And their little cottage was very much like this one." She dabbed her eyes again and smiled sheepishly. "I did not mean to be such a watering pot."

"This cottage is very pleasant," Jane said. "Simple and quiet."