Christmas at Ravencrest: A Dark Hero Christmas Short (Reluctant Heroes) Read online

  Grandfather’s face reddened and he raised a finger, threatening her with further reproof.

  “No--no--do not chide me for my language.” She held up her hand in protest as raw emotions nearly overcame her. Captain Fletcher’s crimes will haunt this family forever. He deserves no memorial, not even the pretense of sorrow at his passing. We are celebrating my marriage to a wonderful man. And we are celebrating the blessed event that will occur next autumn. I will have none of your bitter persimmons dumped in my tea.”

  “You are with child?” Grandfather’s face changed from censure to awe and then pleasure.

  “Y-yes.” She stammered. She did not mean to blurt the news out in a rush of fury. And she had not informed Donovan of the happy occurrence yet.

  Elizabeth remained silent before him, stunned and shamed by her own foolishness. Why, oh why did she tell Grandfather? Why did she let her roiling emotions get the better of her so? “I haven’t told his lordship.” She whispered, “Please do not repeat this, Grandfather. Please?”

  “Of course not, my dear child.” He held out a hand to her, a concession granted as he gazed at her with watery eyes. “You must tell him right away. A man should be given that news first.”

  “I meant to inform him tomorrow, at the Christmas party.”

  The thin lips pressed together at the mention of the Christmas party. Clearly, the earl did not like celebrating. Well, no matter. They would celebrate the season and the blessings of family.

  Elizabeth left her grandfather’s bedchamber. She was afraid if she did not, she might say things to him she would regret later. She hurried down the corridor to the stairs. Her elder brother emerged from his guest room and advanced with a discerning look.

  “You are upset.” His hand touched her arm. At his touch, she felt waves of radiating calm flow over her. Kieran O’Flaherty was seer, mystic with the gift of healing. He could sense things about people and his intuitive powers were further heightened by touch.

  “How does one remain serene living in the same house as the Earl of Greystowe?” She asked as they descended the main staircase together. “He lives to rankle us, I vow.”

  “Good point.” Kieran returned. “I suppose at his great age, the man does need something to look forward to each day.” They parted ways as she entered the sunny yellow parlor.

  She laughed, relieved by Kieran’s soothing presence after her disagreement with their grandfather. Yes, they had much to celebrate this Christmas. Let Grandfather sulk. They were not mourning the death of their oppressor; they were celebrating new life, new love and the restoration of a lost brother to the family fold.

  Elizabeth’s companion, Miss Ramirez, and two maids were working at a table in the salon. They were shuffling through the pile of greenery that was to be finished and put up for the party.

  “My lady, where do you wish these to be hung?” Miss Ramirez held up swag of greenery for Elizabeth’s inspection. All three women looked at her, waiting for Elizabeth’s direction as the mistress of the household.

  Elizabeth turned away from them for a moment. She looked about the salon with wonder. Just days ago it had been the scene of bloodshed. The shattered panel of the doorway was now replaced. The wood had that distinctive scent of being freshly cut from the mill. Elizabeth touched the smooth, sanded wood of the replacement door, pleased with the exact match created by the carpenter’s skill. It still needed to be painted. Her throat stung for a few seconds as she reflected on what might have been if her stepfather’s assault upon her family had succeeded.

  She would be widow today. The bullet that was fired through that panel had been meant for her husband’s heart. Instead, it just grazed Donovan’s arm. Elizabeth crossed the room and went to the spot where her stepfather had been laid low, near the open window. She gazed at the parquet tile flooring. There was not the slightest taint of crimson to remind her of the violence that occurred here last week.

  This was the first time Elizabeth set foot in the salon since the horrible incident.

  Sunshine was streaming through the open windows. A freshening breeze from the gardens brought the exotic scents of the Caribbean into the room. Elizabeth could smell Frangipani, orchids and hibiscus flowers. Tropical birds serenaded them from the nearby bushes.

  “My lady?” Miss Ramirez came to her side. “Are you well?”

  “Yes.” Elizabeth whirled about to meet her companion with a forced smile. “I’m fine.” The tremor in her voice said otherwise, but Miss Ramirez did not remark upon it before the others.

  “The maids have worked hard to move all traces of the tragedy. May I ask your advice, Lady Beaumont?” Chloe asked in her sing-song Caribbean voice.

  Elizabeth nodded.

  “We wanted to finish setting up the decorations, but we weren’t certain which room you wished to use, considering what happened here. Do you want to use the billiard room instead, or the library?”

  “Thank you.” Elizabeth gifted Chloe with a grateful smile. “I’d forgotten about the decorations.” With her family members in various stages of recovery from the incident, Elizabeth had had little time to concern herself with the garlands she and Miss Ramirez had been making. She gazed about the room, pleased by the tidiness surrounding her. “We will hold the festivities here. Leave the greens for now. I want the family to decorate the hall together. We will employ the men in that task tomorrow. The kissing ball you made can go up there.” She pointed to the open doorway. “You may regret putting so many berries on it.”

  “I will not.” Chloe grinned. “I’m hoping to benefit from the abundance.”

  “Chloe, dearest, you must kiss any man who catches you under the mistletoe, not just the man you’re setting the trap for.”

  The maids behind them giggled at Elizabeth’s caution. Chloe shrugged off her words. “We shall see, Madame. There will be many women here, hoping to be noticed beneath the kissing ball. Sally, for one, has set her hope upon Mr. O’Reilly.”

  “Shhh!” Sally, the downstairs maid, hissed behind them as her cheeks flooded with color.

  “Well, good hunting to you.” Elizabeth said brightly. “I’m counting on you, bold Sally, to give our Miss Ramirez some competition tomorrow night. She thinks she’ll get all the kisses.”

  “I do not!” Chloe returned, but with a teasing lilt to her voice. “I thought only of my grandmother’s words when trying to capture the chicken, ‘do not be stingy with the seed or the chicken will find another yard to roost in, and you will go hungry for the night’.”

  “And we want the cock to roost with us, now don’t we!” Sally said as both maids began laughing at Chloe’s expense.

  “I do not know what is so funny.” Chloe muttered, glancing at Elizabeth with uncertainty. Her soft brown eyes were round with surprise. Chloe was of Spanish and African descent. She often repeated the odd proverbs her African grandmother told her, but the English translation of said proverbs often lead to misinterpretation by the hearers.

  “Sally, Maria.” Elizabeth said sternly. “Miss Ramirez did not imply anything scandalous. It is you who have twisted her meaning into something vulgar. Do not mock her again.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Sally curbed her giggles and looked down at the green palm in her hand.

  “I beg your pardon, my lady.” Maria, the least boisterous of the pair, made a small curtsy to Elizabeth. “I meant no offense to you, Miss Ramirez.” Maria was a sweet girl, but tended to follow Sally’s lead when they were together.

  Elizabeth was eighteen, younger than the maids who worked for her. Yet, she often felt like a schoolmarm trying to reign in a bunch of adolescent girls. The staff was new, hired just after she arrived as Donovan’s bride, so she was still trying to establish herself as the mistress here. It didn’t help that Elizabeth had been ill frequently since her arrival. And, it was Elizabeth’s duty to manage the female servants as they hadn’t yet hired a housekeeper to replace the awful woman Donovan employed previously. Elizabeth had a butler, but aside from dire
cting the maids in their work schedules he had little time to concern himself with their squabbles. The maids would always have their pecking order and Sally was at the top of it. Sally tended to make sport of Miss Ramirez when the opportunity arose, whether out of jealousy or spitefulness, Elizabeth couldn’t decide.

  “Yes . . . it just slipped out.” Sally said, squaring her shoulders and giving Elizabeth a level look that clearly betrayed what her lips were saying.

  “See that this rude behavior does not continue.” Elizabeth warned. “Or I shall be forced to make some decisions regarding staff positions that are not pleasant.”

  The two maids nodded and waited for further direction from their mistress, while Miss Ramirez looked away. Elizabeth did not miss the glaze of moisture in her friend’s eyes.

  In keeping with tradition from her Irish ancestors, Elizabeth had decided to host a Christmas dance to honor the household staff and her husband’s retainers on the plantation. The cook was preparing a feast for tomorrow night and a group of musicians had been hired for the occasion.

  “We will need to clear the room of the furniture to make room for dancing.” Elizabeth instructed her maids. “I’ve instructed Giles to have the footmen remove all the furniture from the room tomorrow after breakfast. Master Michael and Lord Wentworth will need chairs, of course, but the clutter of furniture must go. We’ll need just a few chairs around the perimeter.”

  Excitement filled her at the prospect of having musicians liven the old Plantation house with dancing and merriment. This would be the first Christmas she and Donovan shared.

  It would also be Donovan’s uncle’s first real Yuletide Celebration. Uncle Gareth was the love child of Donovan’s grandfather; the result of a forced union with a slave woman. As a boy, Gareth was pushed into the shadows, scorned and merely tolerated by his ill tempered father. Elizabeth asked him to help by devising entertainments for the family celebration on Christmas Day in an effort to welcome him into her husband’s new family.

  She hoped the festivities would banish the dark past that clung to Ravencrest and its inhabitants like pall of black smoke.

  Grandfather Wentworth didn’t understand the need to banish the lingering gloom. He was a guest here; he didn’t know the dark history of the island plantation.

  As the new mistress, Elizabeth was determined bring in an era of happiness.

  It would begin tomorrow night, on Christmas Eve.

  Chapter Two

  After directing Chloe and the staff regarding her wishes for the decorations, Elizabeth headed to the kitchen. The Austrian cook was one of the old retainers from Donovan’s grandfather’s time. The aromas wafting through the house had everyone anticipating the feast.

  “My lady.” Fritz looked up from the worktable and grinned at her, his thick, heavy moustache wiggling above his upper lip like a nervous mouse. “I’ve failed you miserably, Comtesse, I most humbly apologize. You may sack me if you wish.”

  “There he goes again with the dramatics.” A kitchen maid muttered with exasperation. “You’d think he’d killed the guv’ner of St. Kitts with how he does go on.”

  “Stuff it.” Another maid whispered. “Her ladyship will hear you.”

  Elizabeth ignored the whispers as she strolled to the worktable near the hearth. “There will be no sacking of anyone at Christmas. What is worrying you, Fritz?”

  “I’ve searched the markets at Basseterre. I’ve sent word further abroad to the other islands, my lady. There is not a pheasant, a goose or even a plump peacock to be found. I’m afraid our only option is pork for Christmas dinner.”

  Elizabeth scrunched up her nose. Pork was the staple meat in the Indies, aside from a constant supply of fish. They could have wild goat meat but that, too, failed to tempt her appetite. “Is there no beef to be had? Don’t they ship live cattle here from England?”

  She loved roast beef. Fritz had been a dear to acquire a rare side of beef at the market for them earlier this month but it was used up with the influx of guests at the house.

  “It is a hard journey by sea and what few cattle arrive still alive are bought quickly. If I knew in advance, I might have prepared accordingly. Next year, my lady.”

  “Roast Pork will do nicely for the family dinner.” She lied, to both herself and to the cook.

  “A thousand apologies, Madame Beaumont.” He moaned. His moustache was twitching so when he talked Elizabeth had to quell the urge to strike at it like she would a hairy caterpillar. “I cannot make the mince pies you requested. Unless you allow me to use goat or pork.”

  “No.” Elizabeth told him. “What do we have on hand for meat for the servant’s party?”

  “Fish, crab, shrimp and turtle. I am making turtle soup for his lordship for Christmas Day, as he does favor it.”

  Disgusting. Elizabeth made a face. She abhorred turtle soup. “Well, we cannot serve soup tomorrow night at the dance. It’s to be appetizers, items easy to have on a plate; cakes, tarts, candies and some form of meat pie to compliment the sweets.”

  “I’ll make a jellied codfish and lobster cakes. I’ll come up with something, Mistress, I promise.” Fritz assured her. He quietly surveyed his domain and then his eyes returned to her. “We have cheese and bread. Some candied nuts, mango tarts. And marzipan. I’ve perfected the recipe, Madame. See, I made little green leaves and holly berries.” He gestured to his art work. There were delicate little candies tinted green and shaped like holly leaves. Beautiful little red balls completed the arrangement on the tray.

  Elizabeth followed him around the kitchen as he allowed her to inspect the various dishes he had the kitchen staff working on under his supervision. She took inventory as she moved behind the cook from counter to counter. There were sweet breads, scones, and candies. She’d hoped for a cured ham to augment the sweets. Fish would have to do.

  “Voila, Madame!” Fritz removed a cloth from a tray, revealing little gingerbread cakes that were iced with frosting. “I found the recipe in an old cookbook brought from England by his lordship’s grandmother.”

  “How lovely.” She smiled at him. “I remember having those once at Grandfather’s house.”

  “And we have two Christmas puddings, my lady. A bread pudding similar to your English variety.”

  “Did you put the charms in it I sent down to you?” Her brother Michael had purchased some silver charms in England and bought them as a gift for her, with some mercenary inclinations as he expected her to make his favorite pudding and hide the charms in them. It was a tradition their mother had followed. Elizabeth had been delighted to receive the charms.

  “Oui, Madame. A curious tradition. They are baked in the cake just as you instructed.” He wrinkled his brow as he gazed at his creation. “It won’t be properly aged, so I cannot guarantee how well it will taste.” He moved toward the busy maid and gestured to the bowl she was stirring. “I also took the liberty of making corn pudding, the traditional dish served here every year. Master Gareth favors it, as did his father.”

  It looked like cornmeal porridge. Elizabeth wasn’t impressed by the gruel but decided to be indulgent with the chef. He was trying very hard to please her. She tasted a spoonful. It was a mash of cooked corn meal with coconut milk, a little rum, with molasses, cinnamon and sugar tossed in. Elizabeth returned the empty spoon to the short, wiry man and nodded her approval.

  She turned about and noted the fruits spread out on one table, exotic fruits from the Indies. Bananas, pineapples, guava fruit and mangoes. She wished there were still some hothouse strawberries to be had, but those were a distant memory. “Could you make an English Trifle? It’s a sponge cake sliced into cubes, splashed with a small bit of brandy and put into a large bowl with jam, sugar and clotted cream. Perhaps all this fresh fruit could be used instead of jam?”

  “That is an excellent idea, my lady!” Fritz exclaimed, a little too exuberantly. His nose was red, and there was an open jug of rum on the counter. She wondered if he had been sampling it while he worked. �
�I know the dish. I was trying the think of what to make with all this fruit. It will be a West Indian Trifle. Perhaps you’ll start a tradition of your own, oui, mistress?”

  * * *

  After leaving the kitchen Elizabeth went to her husband’s laboratory.

  The room was not tidy. Donovan had tables filled with glass vials and odd smelling potions. The wall behind his desk had shelves filled with glass jars of preserved specimens. Elizabeth always tried not to look at them. She admired his preserved animals and birds, many of which Donovan had dressed out himself. She frowned at the human skeleton hanging in the corner.

  Oh, what ghoulish things one had to put up with, being married to a scientist.

  “At last, the sunshine has deigned to visit my humble abode.” Donovan looked up from his worktable to smile at her. He was playing with one of his new gadgets. A series of lenses that magnified tiny creatures a person couldn’t see with the naked eye. Wee beasties, she thought he might have called them. His new instrument worked like a telescope only in reverse, so he’d explained. It made smaller things appear larger instead of bringing far away things closer.

  “The sunshine has a bit of bad news.” She replied, pleased by his poetic description of her red hair.

  “Not another guest. Please tell me you don’t have another brother tucked away somewhere.” He covered his newest gadget with a linen cloth and turned to her.

  “Of course not.”

  “If I knew your entire family was planning to descend upon us for Christmas, I would have carried you off to another island, one not listed on a map.”

  “Oh, do stop.” Elizabeth scolded, “You’re behaving like a spoiled child who doesn’t want to share his playthings with the other children.”

  “I disliked being made to play with other children. My mother tried to socialize me, with very unpleasant results, I might add.” Donovan replied, giving her that charming smile that always made her heart jump erratically. “Just ask her about it.”