A Christmas Betrothal by Fenella J Miller

Author:Fenella J Miller [Miller, Fenella J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Ralph's ploy to get the two possible villains drunk failed miserably. Sir Jeremy fell face first onto the table before that happened and he was obliged to carry the unfortunate old gentleman back to his apartment. When he returned Defoe and Johnson were no longer there, neither were the ladies.

His capacity to consume alcoholic beverages without showing any adverse effect was legendary. One of the few advantages of being so massive, he suspected. He had taken it upon himself to act as the owner of this establishment as Sir Jeremy seemed oblivious to the rest of the house.

The doors were bolted, even the side door, and the windows and shutters safely latched. Was he locking in the danger rather than keeping it out? Where the hell had the other two gone?

He took the stairs two at a time. There was a light flickering under the door of the girls' sitting room so they were obviously still up. He stopped outside the apartment that Defoe and Johnson were occupying and could see a similar glow from there. Satisfied, he decided he might as well retire early himself.

Having the letter beneath his foot in his evening slipper had been uncomfortable, but at least he had known it was safe there. When he removed it he pushed it into the toe of his boot where it would now remain until the morning.

As he settled into bed he tried to recall how long there was until Christmas Day. So much had happened in the three days they had been here that he had lost track of time. The household would continue as usual, making some allowances for the festive season, and for that he was profoundly grateful. He did not hold with the nonsense that often took place at this time of year.

Putting his face into a pile of flour in order to remove a live bullet or, even worse, risking being severely burnt in order to pull a raisin from a bowl of burning alcohol was not his idea of sensible behaviour. The thought that he might be forced to join in such things filled him with horror. He was smiling when he fell asleep.

The next day passed with no incidents of note and he was no closer to discovering the true identity of the other guests. They did not come down for breakfast and he had to assume they had consumed so much wine they were suffering the after-effects.

'Seph, is it Christmas Day tomorrow or the day after?'

'Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, Ralph, I cannot believe you have forgotten the date.'

'I was thinking that you might be expecting a gift of some sort. That the staff must be given something on Boxing Day.'

'Sir Jeremy must take care of the latter. I think it strange that he has handed over the running of the house to us. I hope he does not expect that we shall remain here when the weather improves.'

'And a gift? You have not answered my question.'

'I expect neither to give nor receive presents this year.

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