Page 19 of Christmas Comes to Little Valentine

Meg frowned into her cup of tea, her stomach twisting into such a knot she regretted having ordered the pie. However, was she to get through the next three weeks in such illustrious company? Surely, any of them would be able to tell at once that she was a fraud.

Mr Ashford’s hand covered hers, making Meg start in surprise.

“Don’t look so afraid,” he said, squeezing her fingers. “We are in this together. I won’t abandon you or leave you to face them all alone.”

Meg let out a breath, somewhat reassured. “I know, but you won’t be there all the time. Like when the gentlemen remain at table for the port. What if your grandmother asks awkward questions?”

“Tell her she’s impertinent and it’s none of her affair,” he said, grinning.

Meg snatched her hand away. “Well, if you are going to make fun of me—”

“I’m not. I’m quite serious,” he said, reaching for her hand again. “She’ll like you all the more for standing up to her. I promise. Now remember, you’ve three weeks to just enjoy yourself and every opportunity that comes your way. I swear we’ll find you a wonderful position where you’ll be safe and happy in the New Year.”

“You swear it?” she repeated, gazing at him, into laughing eyes of startling blue. Did he ever take anything seriously, did he really understand how dire things could get for her if he did not honour his promise?

“Upon my honour,” he said.

She saw the resolution in his eyes this time and her fears eased. Meg let out a breath. “Very well.”

“I think they’re bringing our dinner,” Betty said happily, coming back and noticing their clasped hands. Meg pulled hers free once more, blushing. “Don’t mind me,” the cheeky girl said under her breath, giving Meg a little nudge with her elbow.

Happily, she was correct about the dinner and Meg was saved any further good-natured teasing as they all fell upon their meals with delight.

Meg’s good humour and confidence persisted throughout their repast, which was as good as Mr Ashford had promised it would be, but waned somewhat the moment the carriage arrived. Drawn by four beautiful horses with glossy chestnut coats, the carriage itself was no less impressive. The shiny black paintwork gleamed in the sun and the Hawkney crest glittered on the side, drawing the eye of everyone who saw it.

Mr Ashford helped Meg up, despite a smart liveried footman hovering to do the duty for him, and she was immediately engulfed in a level of luxury she had never before encountered in her life. Dense royal blue velvet covered the plush cushioned seats, along with gold tasselled cushions and elegant porcelain foot-warmers, all bearing the Hawkney crest. Thick fur-lined blankets were also provided for the comfort of the travellers, each one emblazoned with the dowager duchess’ initials, and Betty’s expression of wide-eyed wonder could hardly have been less exaggerated than Meg’s own.

“Cor,” Betty breathed, utterly stunned. “I ain’t never seen anything like this. I ought not be travelling inside with you, miss,” she added, darting Meg an anxious glance.

“Nonsense, you’ll catch your death if you travel outside, and then what good will you be to me?” Meg said, brooking no argument.

Betty relaxed and sat back, closing her eyes with a blissful expression.

“Goodness, but it is marvellous!” Meg exclaimed, no less impressed than Betty had been as the foot warmer thawed her cold toes.

Mr Ashford laughed as he helped the ladies arrange the blankets over their laps. “Grandmama Hawkney loathes travelling and feels the cold. She would not step a foot out of doors if she could not do it in the height of luxury.”

“Bearing in mind she does not know we are travelling with you, she must think highly of you to give you her carriage. I imagine others were available?”

“Certainly,” Mr Ashford replied, settling back on his seat and meeting Meg’s eyes. “But I am a favourite, and she would not be the least surprised if I brought friends home with me. I often do if I’m obliged to attend a family get together. There is safety in numbers.”

He sent Meg the swift grin she was sure she ought to be getting used to by now, but that still seemed too irreverent and charming to be genuine.

“What’s Hatherley House like, sir, if you don’t mind my asking?” Betty said, all eagerness now she had seen the interior of the carriage.

Meg could hardly blame her. If this was the lady’s carriage, heaven alone knew what the house was like.

“Grand enough, but not overwhelming, I think,” he said with an indulgent smile for Betty. “Even I find Hawkney’s home rather a daunting prospect, but Hatherley Hall is a comforting place. Homely. Or at least it was the last time I was there, which was many years ago. Grandmama has not been here for a long while, you see. She returned in the summer, for reasons none of us are privy to, but has since undertaken a vast restoration of the place. As you can imagine, the town has welcomed her return with open arms, though they might live to regret that,” he said, chuckling.

“How so?” Meg asked in surprise.

“Because Grandmama likes to meddle,” he said frankly.

They fell into silence and turned their attention to the scenery, which was indeed beautiful and very different from Hereford, where Meg had been born and lived all her life until her father died. Suddenly everything was becoming very real, and her nerves jittered the closer they drew to Hatherley Hall and Mr Ashford’s family. It suddenly occurred to Meg that she had been so overwhelmed by the prospect of meeting the duke and his mother that she had not stopped to consider Mr Ashford’s parents or siblings. Were they to be there? What on earth would they think of her?

“Your mother and father!” she blurted out, before catching herself, realising that Betty knew nothing of their subterfuge.

Mr Ashford quirked one eyebrow at her, his lips twitching. “Don’t worry, my love,” he said, deliberately provoking her when he knew Betty’s proximity would force her to endure his endearment without comment. “Mama is a dear creature who will forget half of what you tell her five minutes after you’ve spoken, for she’s rather vague and somewhat self-obsessed, but she’s kind and means well. You will remember that my father died many years ago and that I’m an only son, so there’s no need to get in a stew.”