The Earl's Christmas Delivery (5 page)

Myserleigh
had little use for these so-called healers and their magical potions, but he found it impossible to sneer at Miss Meriwether's eager compassion. She truly wanted to help this young man, and she wanted to believe his Nana—whoever that was—might provide miracles. Of course, it was not very sensible to believe things like that. Myserleigh knew better than to get his hopes up. Still, the young man appeared very sure. What if perhaps this Nana was... Bah. Flights of fancy, all of it.

What he needed, what this young man needed, and what Estelle needed was to see things as they were, not as they might wish them to be. That was the sensible way, the way
Myserleigh always lived his life. Strange, though, that it seemed the longer he was around Miss Meriwether the more he had to remind himself to be sensible.

"My sister has employed the best physicians available to help her husband," he assured them all. "
I am not interested in prolonging our journey today. I think it will be best if we simply carry you all to the nearest village and then find a proper conveyance to take you the rest of the way, as you suggested."

"Suit yourself," one of the young men said, bending to help his injured friend up onto his feet. "We'll be thankful for the ride to any place just now."

Myserleigh glanced over at his own traveling companion. She seemed a bit downcast at having not gotten her way, yet she kept a calm demeanor and even smiled sweetly as she did her best to help guide the men out of the ditch where their carriage had overturned and then lead them toward the wagon. She fussed over them all, helping to assure the weaker one had the most comfortable seating arrangement and warning the young men to keep their hands off the mince pies when they began commenting on the heavenly scent. She made certain everything was quite secure before she came up to the front of the wagon to climb into her own seat.

Myserleigh
made sure he was there this time to help her aboard. She'd proven she did not need his assistance, but he'd be damned if he let these careless whelps watch him allow a lady to make her own way up into his rugged wagon. They already must wonder what manner of earl he was to arrive dressed in ill-fitting clothes with a conveyance better suited to farming needs than carting gentility, but he would not give them any reason to question Miss Meriwether's position here. She was not some uncared for servant they might consider taking advantage of, just in case that is what had begun to cross their minds.

They were, after all, three
otherwise healthy young men, clearly some sort of well-bred, and she was quite an attractive young lady. It would be only natural that they might notice this and get some ideas. Myserleigh would keep a close watch over them and be glad to be rid of them at the earliest possible moment.

For Miss Meriwether's sake, of course.

"So you've come from the east?" Carole asked, twisting around in her seat to continue conversation with the
three young men.

She'd found them immensely entertaining so far. The earl, of course, had been his usual, brooding self, but the young men were quite engaging. Of course their friend Jasper was a bit quieter than the others, but once they
made rags from one of the shirts packed in their traveling bag and got his head to stop bleeding, it seemed he might be just fine. They found a relatively secure way to prop his arm and he was even able to add to the conversation from time to time.

The three of them, Jasper, Basil and Mel
King, were brothers on their way home from school for the holiday. Quite the enthusiastic scholars, too, from the way they spoke of their favorite studies in science and astronomy. They spoke enthusiastically about their Nana, as well.

Apparently
she was not actually a relative of theirs, but the old woman who had nursed all three of them as babes. To hear them speak, this Nana had raised every baby in their village and was revered as some sort of saint by one and all. She seemed to have nearly magical skills and an understanding of herbal remedies that could cure any disease imaginable. Carole believed next to nothing that they were telling her, but she found them highly amusing, nonetheless.

"Yes, we've
been traveling far," Basil said. "And I can tell you I'm eager to get home for good old cook's pudding."

"You're always eager to eat anyone's pudding," Mel chided.

"Well, sitting next to these mince pies is making me hungry!" Basil defended himself. "They smell like ambrosia for the gods!"

"Well, you
ain't exactly no god," Mel assured him. "So keep your paws off the lady's fragrant pies."

The two young men jostled each other in mock battle
and bumped against Jasper in the process. He grimaced. Carole wished she could do more for him than offer the last wadded handkerchief from her reticule.

"Is the pain very great,
Mr. King?" she asked him.

"Not enough to kill me and put me out of my misery, I'm afraid," he replied. "But bad enough. I'll surely be glad when we get home to Nana and she can brew up one of her concoctions."

"Is she really so very accomplished? Caring for the sick is a wonderful talent."

"Oh yes, she's amazing," Basil answered. "Everyone from miles around comes to her for the least little thing. She always knows just what to do."

"It's a shame you don't have time to come see her," Mel added. "I know she'd want to help you out for your brother, after the kindness you've done us on the road."

It was pointless to correct his misunderstanding. They must not have heard clearly when she mentioned that Mr. Bexley was the earl's brother-in-law, not hers. Mostly she was interested in keeping the injured Jasper comfortable and the others distracted from eating those pies. It was true; they did smell amazingly good.

"I'm sure your Nana is everything you say that she is," Carole conceded. "Perhaps once we've made it to our destination and ascertained Mr. Bexley's current condition then his lordship might send someone to see Nana."

"Oh, she doesn't often talk to the servants people send," Basil said. "She likes to see the
patient himself, or the direct family if he truly can't travel. Says the healing works better that way."

Carole thought she heard the earl grumble something under his breath
about payment working better that way, too. She didn't ask him to elaborate, though. Clearly he was skeptical of the young men's claims regarding Nana's healing abilities. To tell the truth, she was, too. No doubt the young men's stories were greatly exaggerated, but she also knew there must be some grain of truth to them. Why else would poor Jasper sit here in such agony and swear over and over that he wanted no local doctor but would wait until he reached Nana? There must be some reason he held such deep faith in her competence.

It was a shame the earl was
unwilling to consider it.

"She must be a great blessing to everyone who knows her,"
Carole said, directing her words at their new friends but knowing full well the earl heard everything that she said. "Pity we won't get to see her. I hope Estelle isn't too disappointed when she hears of our adventures. I know she's got excellent physicians at her disposal, but surely she'd be happy for anything that might give added hope. I know that when my mother was ill, I would have welcomed any help that I could."

"Your mother was ill?" the earl said, surprising her by actually joining in rather than just offering
another snort or dubious grumble.

"She was. A few years ago."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Did she recover?"

"No.
She finally went to her reward after suffering far too long."

"I'm sorry. And your father?"

"I believe he stopped living the day she died. It was nearly a year, though, before I could lay him to rest beside her."

And she'd been on her own, life getting more and more dismal every year since then.

"I see," he said softly. "Please forgive me for bringing up such a difficult subject."

"I don't mind talking about
them. It's just that... sometimes it's easier not to."

He nodded and she thought perhaps he truly did understand. He had, after all, lost his father
at a young age. He seemed cold and unaffected, but deep inside he must know the pain of loss and heartache. If his heart ever thawed enough to recall it.

"I'll bet Nana would say there's some hope for this Bexley fellow," Mel offered.

The others agreed. Carole risked a sharp rebuke by turning back to the earl and making her plea. Perhaps this Nana person might be all that the young men insisted. It just didn't seem right to ignore what Fate had so clearly dropped in their lap, not simply for the sake of saving a few hours.

"Don't you think Estelle would welcome any ray of hope, my lord?" she asked him carefully. "Her husband is so dear to her, and if there is any chance
this old nurse might have something to offer, could we not at least make the tiniest effort? Think of the children. What would they give to keep their father with them?"

He looked at her and she forced herself not to shift her gaze away. It was a challenge, though. The man's blue eyes were cold like
January ice over a pond. They searched her for something but she couldn't quite comprehend what. Just when she'd begun to prepare for a rebuke, he seemed to have found what he was looking for and turned those cold eyes away.

"Very well, Miss Meriwether. For the sake of the children, I suppose it will not be the end of the world if our journey is delayed by a few hours. We will simply hope there are decent lodgings for us tonight in
Newchild-on-Bourne."

"That's the spirit, sir!"
Mel called up to him. "You won't regret it."

"But of course we will have to let
your nurse-maid tend to Jasper first," Carole said. "We would not want to be in the way of his treatment."

The young men all agreed that this was the
knackiest notion and Jasper settled in to endure the rest of the afternoon's journey. Carole couldn't help but smile at the earl.

"Thank you. The fact that you were willing to take a chance will be the greatest gift ever for Estelle."

"We'll see what comes of it all," he replied.

It was a cool, detached answer, but he didn't roll his eyes or grumble under his breath. Apparently the earl did have
a heart under his iceberg exterior. She wasn't sure what surprised her more about this, that she discovered his heart or that the discovery was clearly doing something to her own.

His stomach rumbled and he wished he'd not let Miss Meriwether talk him into passing through
the last village along their route rather than stopping to rest themselves and get some supper. But she was concerned that the Jasper fellow was not looking very good and she insisted they continue on. They'd stopped early on after they met up with the young men and collected additional rugs to cover them and something more to bandage the one's head, but even though the earl strongly suggested calling a physician then, they refused. The whole lot of them insisted the best thing to do was to hurry for Newchild-on-Bourne so that is what he'd been doing.

He wished
Miss Meriwether hadn't given the last of her sticky buns to the young men, though. She could have used a few more meals and he hated to think that she must be as hollow as he was feeling just now. Clearly she'd been thrilled to have something to share, but Myserleigh would have much rather watched her eat the buns than to hear the smacking lips of the raucous young men behind him.

He'd rather hear their smacking lips now, however, than the rumbling sound of thunder
rolling in the distance. The sun was resting just above the horizon but it was rapidly being swallowed up by the next wave of clouds. These not only threatened rain, but a full-fledged storm, it appeared.

He pressed the
hefty draft horse to move just a bit faster. Near as he could tell, they had an hour yet to go before making it to this Nana person's house. From the looks of things, darkness and storm would be hitting just about exactly at that time. Poor Miss Meriwether would likely be frozen by then. She'd lapsed into silence, not even her teeth chattered now. It had likely been a mistake to add these extra hours onto their travels today. Even the fat little pony seemed to be just barely dragging along.

"I wonder if they've found our horse yet?" one of the young men pondered aloud.

When they'd stopped briefly in that first village they'd left word of the escaped beast, promising a reward to anyone who should find it and allow them to collect it at a later time. The earl thought it unlikely that anyone would go to the trouble of keeping the flighty creature for the petty reward they offered, so he privately added to the reward being offered. Apparently the horse actually belonged to the one called Basil and he wanted it back. Along with the carriage, which they'd also made arrangements for someone local to collect and look after for them and for which the earl also left private assurances of payment if things were handled properly.

"I hope wherever
your horse ended up, it finds a secure place from the elements," Miss Meriwether said. "It looks as if we're to be getting a storm."

"I'm trying to get us to our destination as quickly as possible," the earl said.

"Of course you are. We'll be fine. My bonnet can only be ruined once, after all."

She tried to speak lightly, but of course he could hear the bone-weary exhaustion in her voice. The day's travel had used up every bit of her
, yet still she was trying to make the best of things. Even after all this, he could not find fault with the woman. What a puzzle she was.

"I will see that you get a new bonnet," he said.

It had been a simple thing to say, but she brightened as if he'd promised the moon.

"Will you? Heavens, I was not trying to ply you with guilt for my own gain, sir."

"No, I'm certain you would be perfectly happy to retain the sodden pile on your head," he replied. "It is purely for my own vanity that I insist on my sister's houseguest being seen in something that has not lived through a typhoon."

Fortunately she laughed
. As he heard himself speak the words it dawned on him that a tired, unfed woman might find them insulting. Gentlemen were supposed to compliment women's appearance, after all, not use words like "sodden pile" when describing them. But Miss Meriwether did not take offense. Her laughter trilled easily and she gave him a sincere smile that warmed him more than any extra rug could have done at that moment. What sort of being was she? It seemed even at the point of exhaustion she could not help but be everything charming.

"I'll do my best to be a credit to your sister's household," she said. "Although I am compelled to point out that you do not appear quite
the fashion plate yourself, sir. It seems today's travels have not been gentle for either of us."

He pushed his own rather saggy hat back up into something resembling the proper position and glanced down at his attire. Indeed, these borrowed clothes had not improved as the day went along. His own disheveled appearance made Miss Meriwether look quite properly turned out, as a matter of fact. He had to laugh. What a pair they made.

"I'm surprised our three guests were willing to risk being seen with us," he commented.

More of her warm, trilling laugher.

"Well, one of them has been hit on the head, sir. I suppose that might explain part of it."

"And is that your excuse?" he asked her. "Were you hit on the head? Is this why you've subjected yourself to all this torture today?"

"Sadly, I'm afraid I have no excuse for my actions," she replied, blinking bright eyes and making the cold breeze somehow feel tropical. "I cannot say what compelled me to climb in your wagon today."

"I am glad that you did," he admitted. "Although, I sincerely expect you will not share in my sentiment very soon now. This storm is arriving quickly, it seems."