Chapter 7

CHAPTER 7

J oseph rang the bell and waited. Tugs answered the door, raised one bushy eyebrow and cleared his throat. “To what do we owe the pleasure, Mr. Bradshaw?”

Joseph fought a sardonic smile and drew in a deep breath. “Look, I realize what you may think of me.”

Tugs cleared his throat again.

“But I’m… trying. May I come in?”

Mr. Tugs’ other eyebrow went up. “Trying?”

He let the breath out. “To be a better man.”

A smile slowly curved Mr. Tugs’ mouth. “Well then. Come in.”

He stepped aside and allowed Joseph to step through the door. His eyes gravitated to the grand staircase. “How is Miss Turtledove this morning?”

“Still in bed, but the doctor just left and said if she feels up to it, she may spend some time in the drawing room today.”

“That’s splendid, Tugs.” He smiled and headed for the stairs.

“Ah, ah, ah!”

Joseph spun to the old butler. “I beg your pardon?”

“Abigail and Miss Eastwick are helping Miss Turtledove dress. You can wait in the drawing room.”

“Oh, yes, of course.” Joseph headed that way.

“I’ll bring you some tea,” Tugs called after him.

“Thank you, Tugs!” He entered the well-appointed drawing room made up of blues and whites and headed for the fireplace. Mrs. Pettigrew’s Christmas tree was still up, and he realized poor Miss Turtledove had spent Christmas night huddled in that freezing carriage. He shivered just thinking about it and went to stand before the fire.

Mrs. Pettigrew swept into the room wearing a royal blue dress of velvet trimmed in white lace. She was a stunning woman that any man would want to marry, his father included. But everyone knew she was still grieving the death of her precious Xavier. Who knew if she would ever remarry?

“Mr. Bradshaw,” she crooned. “How nice to see you. Come to pay Miss Turtledove a visit?”

His cheeks heated. “Yes. How is she? Tugs said the doctor was here this morning.”

“He was. We’re going to bring her downstairs for a time so she can enjoy the tree.”

He glanced at the wonderful Christmas tree. “It is something.” Joseph looked at the fire. “Did she tell you much more?”

“No, not much.” Mrs. Pettigrew joined him in front of the fire. “Have you thought about what I said the last time we spoke?”

“I’ve not changed my mind, if that’s what you’re asking,” he said. “I’ll escort Miss Turtledove whenever you have need of me.”

She smiled and glanced toward the grand hall. “And this act of kindness isn’t so you can feel better about yourself? You genuinely wish to help the young lady?”

He gaped a moment. “Of course I do. And yes, my past behavior has been less than savory, and I apologize.”

“You don’t need to apologize to me, Mr. Bradshaw, but I do suggest you apologize to Miss Eastwick.”

He hung his head. “Oh, yes. Miss Eastwick.”

“And here she is now…”

He looked up to see Chastity Eastwick and Abigail help a pale Miss Turtledove down the stairs. Joseph’s breath caught. They’d dressed their patient in a day dress of robin’s egg blue and styled her blonde hair in a simple bun atop her head. Tiny wisps of hair framed her face, and her green eyes were brighter than when he last saw her. Some time downstairs would do her good.

He smiled as they approached and quickly pulled a wing chair closer to the fire. “Here, if you please. The fire will keep her warm.” Joseph made himself wait by the chair as the women guided Miss Turtledove his way.

They eased her into the chair, and she immediately sat back and took a few deep breaths.

“Are you able to breathe better?” Joseph asked gently. “What did the doctor say?”

“Give her a moment,” Mrs. Pettigrew advised.

He stepped back from the chair and hoped he didn’t look too eager. Even ill she was lovely now that she was cleaned up and wearing a fashionable dress.

Miss Turtledove looked up at him. “Mr. Bradshaw,” she greeted in a breathy whisper. “How nice to see you.”

His heart clenched, and he was kneeling before her, unable to stop himself. “Do you need to return to your bed?”

She shook her head. “I want a little time out of it, if you don’t mind.” She coughed and held a lace handkerchief to her mouth.

Joseph cast Mrs. Pettigrew a worried look.

“She will be fine,” the woman assured. “But we must make sure we don’t wear her out.”

Joseph stood. “I could read to you while you rest in front of the fire.”

Miss Turtledove smiled. “That would be nice. Thank you.”

“Before he does,” Mrs. Pettigrew said. “I believe Mr. Bradshaw would like to have a few words with Chastity. When he’s done, he will help you to the other chair so you may view the Christmas tree while he reads to you.”

Miss Turtledove’s eyes lit up. “Oh, yes. I would very much like to gaze upon the tree.”

Joseph smiled. “And so you shall. Tugs is bringing tea. I’m sure a cup will do you good.” He met Chastity’s curious gaze, clasped his hands behind his back and nodded at the tree. “A word, Miss Eastwick?”

“Of course.” She glanced at Mrs. Pettigrew and back, then walked to the tree.

Joseph followed. He wanted to make this quick so he could rejoin Miss Turtledove.

“What is this about?” Chastity asked when she reached the tree.

Joseph took a deep breath. “I apologize for my previous behavior whilst in your company, Miss Eastwick. I was rude, condescending, and said and did things that I shouldn’t have.”

She stared at him a moment with raised eyebrows. “Well, I suppose the company you’d been keeping might have had something to do with it.”

He pressed his lips into a firm smile. “Some, but most of the fault was with me. Please accept my most humble apologies. I will be speaking to Dalton as well. I don’t fancy a punch in the nose.”

She smiled. “He’d have already done it.”

“Even so, you are his betrothed, and I should apologize for the way I treated you.”

She stood still a moment then gave him a nod. “Apology accepted. Now why don’t you read to Miss Turtledove?”

Joseph smiled. “Thank you, Miss Eastwick.”

“Call me Chastity. Especially if we’re to be friends.”

“Friends?” He hoped his face hadn’t gone red. He didn’t expect her to offer him friendship.

“Are you not friends with Dalton?” She asked and ran a finger over a branch of the tree.

“More acquaintances at this point. I’m not sure your betrothed considers me a friend.”

She looked at Miss Turtledove. “What about Mrs. Pettigrew’s guest? Do you seek her friendship?”

His heart beat faster at the thought. “I would indeed befriend Miss Turtledove. She seems to need a few friends right now.”

“She’s a kind, sweet thing,” Chastity said. “And yes, she can use some friends. I hope to be her friend too.” She returned her attention to him. “She’s a little skittish and scared. The poor thing has been through something awful, I just know it.”

He nodded but said nothing. So, Mrs. Pettigrew hadn’t told Chastity about Miss Turtledove’s circumstances. It was just as well. The fewer people who knew at this point the better. If the young lady was prideful, she wouldn’t want people fussing over her. Still, she needed protection, and Joseph said he’d give his, and intended to do so.

“Thank you for accepting my apology,” he said. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I must see to Miss Turtledove.”

Chasity smiled and nodded.

He rejoined Mrs. Pettigrew and Miss Turtledove at the fire and helped the latter to the other chair. Once she was settled, he moved the chair she’d occupied next to hers and sat beside her. “Now, what do you think of Mrs. Pettigrew’s tree?”

Miss Turtledove gazed at it in awe. “I wish I could have seen it all lit up.”

“You can this evening if you wish,” Mrs. Pettigrew said.

Miss Turtledove let go a tiny gasp of delight, then coughed.

Joseph patted her on the back. “Easy now.”

She nodded and sat back in her chair, as if those few coughs had exhausted her. Miss Turtledove gazed at the tree and smiled. “Lovely.”

Joseph studied her. “Indeed.”

“Ah, Tugs,” Mrs. Pettigrew said. “There you are. Please pour the tea.”

Miss Turtledove closed her eyes a moment, and Joseph cast Mrs. Pettigrew a worried look.

“Some tea will do Holly good,” she assured.

He nodded and watched as Tugs began to fill everyone’s cups. “Holly, what a lovely name,” he said aloud.

Miss Turtledove smiled, but didn’t open her eyes. “Thank you.”

“Tea?” he asked.

“Yes, please.”

Joseph drew closer. “Will you be able to hold it?”

“Yes, I think so. Just let me rest my eyes a moment.”

“Sugar?”

“Please. One spoonful.”

“As you wish.” He fixed her cup then held it as she rested. Her face was pale, a little drawn, but she was still lovely to look upon. What cad, let alone a relative, would wish to harm her?

“Miss Turtledove?” He said gently. “Your tea?”

She slowly opened her eyes. “Thank you.”

Mrs. Pettigrew bent to her and helped her sit up straight. “There now, ma petite , enjoy your tea and my wonderful tree.”

Miss Turtledove smiled as she took in the tree before the tall front windows. “It’s so big.”

“Indeed, it is,” Joseph agreed.

“I… didn’t have…” She hung her head, a sad look on her face, and took a sip of tea. Joseph wondered if it was taxing her to lift her cup.

“Is it good?” he asked softly.

She looked at him and smiled. “Yes.”

He smiled back. “Would you like me to butter you a scone?”

She looked at the plate of scones on the tea tray. “Thank you.”

He happily got to work. “You were saying?”

She watched him as her smile faded. “It’s nothing.”

Joseph stole a glance at Mrs. Pettigrew who was frowning. That told him it was something. “You didn’t have a Christmas?” he guessed.

Miss Turtledove closed her eyes and began to lean into her chair. “It doesn’t matter. I’m here.”

“Yes, you are, ma petite . Safe, warm, and in want of nothing,” Mrs. Pettigrew said. “Your only job is to get better. You will do that for us, oui ?”

Miss Turtledove’s eyes met Joseph’s. “I can try.”

He gave her a gentle smile. She looked so helpless. “You will get better. And when you are, you have a wonderful…” he glanced at Mrs. Pettigrew, who nodded and smiled. “… new job awaiting you and this beautiful house to live in.”

Miss Turtledove’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Did I not tell you, ma petite , that my assistant lives here in my mansion?”

Miss Turtledove’s jaw dropped.

Joseph chuckled. “I don’t think she realized that.”

Mrs. Pettigrew smiled at him. “I believe there are many things she does not yet realize.” She looked him in the eyes. “Nor you, for that matter.” Mrs. Pettigrew winked at him then sipped her tea.