His Housekeeper's Christmas Wish. Louise Allen
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stood in front of him, her face a picture of concern.
‘Why? What for?’
‘I’m sorry that you are estranged from your family and that I raised the subject. It must be so difficult.’
‘Don’t be sorry.’ He shrugged. ‘Certainly it isn’t difficult. I just ignore them, they ignore me. They say you choose your friends but not your family, but you can choose how much you see of any of them.’ Had home ever really felt like a good place to be? It must have done once, before his father had decided that he was so utterly unsuitable to be his heir, such a disappointment to him.
‘But what if something happens to them?’
‘It won’t.’ He took her by the shoulders, turned her around and walked her to her chamber door. ‘My father’s like an ox.’ Certainly has the sensitivity of one. ‘Now freshen up, then we’ll eat and be on our way.’
‘Goodbye and thank you so much for your assistance, my lord. For looking after me and for Noel.’ Tess stood outside the gates of the convent, her bag and the cat’s basket at her feet. Would a curtsy be appropriate? He was an earl... On the other hand she would probably fall flat on her face, and what she wanted to do was certainly not to make a formal gesture. Not at all. She wanted to wrap her arms around his neck and kiss him on that wicked, mobile, mocking mouth.
She managed her best smile instead. Chin up, back straight. Fairy-tale adventure over.
‘You’ll be all right now?’ Alex frowned at the metal-studded black oak of the door. ‘This doesn’t look like the most hospitable of places.’
‘Convents don’t, from the outside.’ Or the inside, in my experience. ‘And I will be perfectly fine. Thank you again.’ She put out her hand, brisk and impersonal, and when he took it and gave it a quick squeeze she tried not to think about how his arms had felt around her.
Alex pulled the iron chain beside the door. Somewhere far away a bell clanged. ‘I’ll wait in the carriage until you are safe inside. Goodbye, little nun.’ He stooped, dropped a quick kiss on her cheek and strode back to the chaise.
‘Yes?’ enquired a disembodied voice from behind the darkened grille while Tess was still fighting with a blush.
If she had only moved her head a fraction that brief kiss would have fallen on her lips. It would have been her first kiss. ‘Teresa Ellery. Mother Superior is expecting me.’
The door swung open and she stepped inside. It banged closed behind her and she heard the sound of hooves on the cobbles as the chaise moved off. The prison gates slammed behind the doomed woman... Stop it! The effect on the imagination of reading Minerva Press novels, smuggled in by the boarders, was exceedingly unwelcome just at the moment.
She limped after the silent nun down a dark, tiled passageway to a door. The sister knocked and opened it, urged Tess in with a gesture, then closed it behind her.
Offices in convents must be all created from the same pattern book. Dark walls, small fireplace, solid, plain desk placed uncompromisingly in the centre of the room with the chair turned with its back to the window and any possibility of a distracting view. It was all safely, depressingly, familiar.
‘Miss Ellery. I confess I am most surprised to see you.’ From behind the desk Mother Superior studied her, unsmiling. She was thin and pale and Tess thought she looked unwell.
‘Good evening, Mother.’ She bobbed an awkward curtsy, hampered by her sore ankle. ‘I was delayed on my journey—’
‘So I understand.’ The nun glanced to one side and Tess realised they were not alone. Seated against the wall was a middle-aged woman who looked vaguely familiar. ‘Delayed
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