Fenella J. Miller by Christmas At Hartford Hall Page A

from his shoulders. He had he felt no more than a mild affection for Eleanor and this was not nearly enough on which to base a lifelong union.
    “Lady Hartford, Miss Culley and I insisted we help Miss Baverstock. If someone of her impeccable pedigree does not turn her back on domestic chores, then who are we to cavil?” He fully intended to explain how far this objectionable woman fell beyond the pale by her behaviour. God’s teeth! The pernicious creature had said Lord Hartford was waiting to speak to Elizabeth.
    He threw down his cloth and stepped around the objectionable harridan, then bolted for the stairs. If that man raised a finger to Elizabeth he would take his crop to him. He arrived on the nursery floor as his lordship stepped out. The portly man recoiled and the colour drained from his face.
    “Sir James…I cannot imagine what brings you up here.”
    “Can you not, my lord? Remain where you are, I wish to speak to Miss Baverstock in your presence.”
    “If you insist. I shall not stand in your way.”
    James rapped on the door and heard light footsteps approaching. The door was opened a fraction and face he scarcely recognized appeared in the gap. What had been done to this girl? Her beautiful eyes were tear-filled and her face chalk white. “My dear, I gave you my word I would protect you from harm. You must tell me at once if this…this person has hurt you.”
    She shook her head vigorously. “No, his lordship has done nothing untoward. I should not have involved you in my tasks. I beg your pardon for doing so. I shall be remaining in my chambers until after the Christmas festivities. Please do not contact me again under any circumstances.”
    The door snapped shut and she was gone. He turned, prepared to shake the truth out of his lordship but he was alone on the landing. Whilst his attention had been elsewhere the coward had sloped off, taking his two bodyguards with him. There was nothing he could do up here. Miss Baverstock had made her feelings plain. Hartford must have some hold over her and he would do nothing further aggravate the situation.
    However, there was one thing he could do and that was search that extraordinary desk. He would look for secret hiding places. There was a remote possibility the missing will would prove to be hidden in there. As he no longer intended to offer for Eleanor, what he should do was pack his bags and drive away. He rested his hand on the door. He couldn’t leave until he was sure Elizabeth was safe.
    His eyes widened. Heavens above! It could not be so. Surely he was not developing feelings for this unfortunate young lady? He was tempted to insist she open the door. He wanted to speak to her again and then remove that hideous cap and apron and see her as she really was.
    No, better not. If he could discover the missing document, he was certain it would prove she was not the penniless dependent everyone thought. He took the stairs two at a time; the sooner he started his search, the better.

    Elizabeth decided it would make more sense to just keep her bedchamber warm. With luck, there would be enough fuel for the fire in there to last until she left. After discarding her cap and apron she busied herself transferring the log baskets and coal scuttles. This task completed, she carried in the flowers and fruit basket. How fortunate she had filled herself up with scones and jam. She would not feel hungry again until tomorrow.
    She dragged an armchair and table through and then removed the rag rug that covered the centre of the room. Keeping active gave her less time to think and to contemplate her miserable future. Two hours later, her bedchamber was transformed. All her books, writing materials and watercolour equipment were safely installed on shelves. The flowers were standing proudly on the small octagonal table by the window and the fruit stored in her dressing room, which was far cooler than her bedchamber.
    She would keep herself occupied painting the view from