The Captain's Christmas Family (8 page)

No sooner had the final notes died away than a burst of energetic applause rang out behind her. Marian gave a violent start and spun around to find Captain Radcliffe standing in the doorway clapping his hands.

“Well done, indeed, Miss Murray. You have a fine voice and a most expressive manner of conveying the meaning of the piece.”

His praise set her aflutter. But it alarmed her to wonder what he might make of her singing such a song the day after she had thrown her arms around him.

“Forgive me, Captain!” She leapt up and performed an awkward curtsy. “I was only obliging the girls with a song after they concentrated so well on their music lesson. I had no idea you were at home. I did not mean to disturb you.”

Dolly must have taken note of her agitation for the child dashed toward Captain Radcliffe and seized his hand. “Please don’t be cross at Miss Marian, Cousin Gideon! We asked her to sing for us.”

A quiver ran through Marian at the sound of their first names spoken together like that.

As the child drew him into the room, Captain Radcliffe shook his head. “What makes you think I am angry? On the contrary, I wonder what feat I might perform to earn more of Miss Marian’s singing as a reward.”

Did he realize he’d just spoken her Christian name? It was a natural enough mistake, since it began with the same letter as her surname. No doubt he’d simply
repeated what the girls called her. Still, it took Marian by surprise what a jolt of pleasure such a small error could bring her.

“I assure you, Captain, you have done it already and more with all your kindness to me and the girls.” That gave her an idea for something they could do at Christmastime. She had no intention of mentioning it to him when they discussed his holiday plans that evening.

Instead, it would be a secret and a surprise for him.

Gideon could not recall a time when he’d enjoyed himself so thoroughly as in the weeks leading up to Christmas. Each morning he woke eager to experience what the day would bring. He looked ahead to the approaching holiday season with a level of anticipation that was almost childlike. He relished all the planning and the delightful secrets.

In the past he had made plans and kept secrets of an entirely different nature. Readying his crew for battle, supplying British troops on the Continent and maintaining the blockade of French imports and exports had all been vital duties, but hardly a source of pleasure. The secrets he’d kept had been a matter of life and death rather than a source of future happiness for others.

“What else needs to be prepared for our Boxing Day festivities, Miss Murray?” Gideon glanced up from the writing desk in the library, where he sat making lists of errands to run and supplies to purchase.

“I believe we’ve taken care of all the details for the dinner itself, sir,” she replied. “Do you wish to give out hampers to the tenants, as your cousin used to?”

Gideon raised an eyebrow. “Hampers?”

She nodded. “Hampers of fruit, sugar, tea and the like. Those little comforts people cannot produce for themselves and are most likely to do without when times are hard.”

The way she spoke, Gideon sensed she had known such need in her own life. Though he longed to learn more about her past, he knew it was not his place to inquire.

“An admirable tradition.” He dipped his pen into the inkwell and began adding to his list. “One we must maintain. Anything else?”

Miss Murray thought for a moment. “If you’re set on keeping things the same as other years, you might want to engage a few musicians to play for dancing after the dinner.”

“And where would I find these musicians?”

“I can give you some names, sir.”

He glanced up at her again with a grateful smile. “I don’t know how I would manage all this without your assistance.”

Gideon could not deny that one of the pleasures of this time was the certainty of enjoying Miss Murray’s company almost every day. At first he’d told himself he would have relished any woman’s society after all his years at sea. Now he was not so certain.

Marian Murray possessed a fortunate combination of the qualities he most admired. She was clever, well-read and accomplished. Ever since the day he’d overheard her singing to the girls, her clear, sweet voice had woven its way into his dreams. She was sensible and sincere, unlike some women he’d had the misfortune to encounter in various ports of call. Even that embrace,
which he could not forget, had been a spontaneous mistake, not a calculated flirtation. She was open-minded and open-hearted, the first person who had been willing to believe in his innocence and trust in his honor.

But what he liked best about Miss Murray was her open affection for his cousin’s orphaned daughters and her warm, nurturing spirit. From what he had observed, she was more like a mother to the girls than a governess. If he were ever to want a wife, Miss Murray would answer all his requirements and more.

His words of praise seemed to fluster her. Or was it the fact that he was staring at her like a calf-eyed schoolboy?

“I’m happy to help.” She ducked her head, and her lips rippled in a self-conscious smile. “It was so kind of you to think of this.”

He had no intention of taking a wife, Gideon reminded himself sternly. His heart belonged to the sea, and his first duty was to the Royal Navy. That solitary life suited him. He had been for too many years away from the company of women and children. His one recent attempt at a closer relationship had ended in failure of the worst kind. He could not bear to fail anyone else like that.

“Kindness? Tosh!” He forced his gaze away from her face and back to the safety of his list. “It is pure self-interest, I assure you. These festivities will give me an opportunity to celebrate Christmas in a way I have not had the pleasure in years.”

“How did you mark the season on your ship?” Miss Murray asked.

Much as he would have liked to look up at her again,
Gideon gave a shrug and continued writing. “With very little fanfare, I’m afraid. I increased rations and tried to make certain there was tolerable meat for our cook to prepare. I had plugs of tobacco and other such minor comforts distributed, when we could get them.”

“It sounds like Christmas might have been nothing at all for your men if it hadn’t been for you,” Miss Murray suggested. “You must have been something of a father to them.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” Gideon muttered, though her words struck a chord. He had once considered himself a father figure to his men—a sort of Old Testament patriarch who could be depended upon. One who rewarded the good and punished the bad. “If my crew had respected me like a father, I doubt I would have found myself in my present difficulties.”

With his two engaging young cousins, he saw the opportunity to experience a different kind of family relationship, however temporary.

“If you don’t mind my asking, Captain, how did you come to be in your troubles? I know you could never have done what you’re accused of. But I cannot understand how anyone could have accused you of such a thing in the first place. How did that poor boy come to die?”

Gideon winced, for her questions revived memories he had worked hard to suppress.

“Have you ever talked about it with anyone?” Miss Murray’s voice fell to a beseeching murmur he found impossible to resist.

With a weary shake of his head Gideon laid aside his pen.

“It would do you good,” she persisted. “I wouldn’t repeat a word to anyone.”

He knew he could trust her to keep his confidence. He had been looking forward to giving his testimony at the inquiry. But how much better would it be to unburden himself to someone he knew would sympathize and believe his side of the story? “Perhaps I was getting too soft, wanting to be a father figure to the younger members of my crew. Harry…that is, Mister Watson…reminded me of myself at that age. He’d been sent to sea as a boy after losing his family. He was a quiet lad, but diligent and dependable. I didn’t mean to favor him, but perhaps I did. I reckon that was what got him killed.”

When he paused to collect his thoughts and master his emotions, Gideon expected Miss Murray to jump in, firing off questions as Dolly would. But she did not. Instead, her expectant, understanding stillness invited him to continue when he was ready.

“The other midshipmen all knew one another. They came from families with more influence. They tried to curry favor with me, but when they realized their efforts were having the opposite effect, they turned their attention to my second-in-command, an ambitious young fellow itching for a ship of his own.”

He should have seen the direction in which events were drifting and corrected his course, but he’d been too trusting of his men. It had never occurred to him that others might place self-interest above honor and duty.

“When Mister Watson would not countenance some of the mischief they got up to, the others started bul
lying him. I sensed something was wrong but when I asked, he always denied any trouble.”

“Of course he would.” Miss Murray’s pitying whisper reminded Gideon of her presence. “He wouldn’t want to worry you. He probably thought if he said anything it would only make matters worse.”

“Then he was right.” How did she understand the situation so well?

Gideon had been staring down at his list of Christmas preparations, not really seeing it. Now he cast a glance at Miss Murray and saw her emotions etched plainly on her irregular but appealing features. Her outrage stirred something deep within him.

“One day I overheard them threatening what they would do if he complained to me of their mistreatment.”

“What did you do?” The words burst out of her as if she could not contain them.

If he had still been holding the pen, it would have snapped when his hands clenched. “I informed them in no uncertain terms that if Mister Watson so much as stubbed his toe again, I would hold them responsible no matter how strenuously he denied it. And I would punish them with the utmost severity the Royal Navy would permit.”

He’d been trying to protect the lad, but he had failed. “I thought they wouldn’t dare lay a hand on him after that. But one night I returned to my cabin and found…his body. I went after those despicable bullies in a rage, vowing to make them pay for what they’d done. But my second-in-command gave them an alibi and persuaded the doctor to have me restrained. The more vigorously I protested, the more I sounded like a raving
madman who had murdered one of his crew and gone after others.”

Again Miss Murray could not restrain herself. “Surely anyone who knew your character…”

“My sterling record was all that saved me from immediate prosecution the moment we arrived back in port. But those allied against me have powerful friends, while I have made more than one enemy in the Admiralty with my intolerance for bungling and politics.”

“What about the rest of your crew? Surely others must have known what was going on and could speak in your defense.”

Gideon heaved a disillusioned sigh. “Perhaps, but I imagine they are frightened for their own safety if they testify against that wicked cabal, led by the villain who is now their commanding officer. They have seen what such men are capable of.”

“I don’t understand. Why did your second-in-command protect those miserable bullies? Just because they made up to him?”

“It had nothing to do with
them.
I told you he was ambitious. During the war there were more rapid promotions. Now that peace has come, it could take years for him to earn his first command. The opportunity to remove a superior officer who stood in the way of his advancement was one he could not resist.”

“I’ll tell you one thing…” Miss Murray’s voice rang with righteous indignation. “If I’d been a member of your crew, I would have stood by you and told the truth about what happened, no matter what the consequences. If there’s one thing I can’t abide in this world, it’s bullies. Fair makes my blood boil!”

Her fierce declaration of loyalty brought the shadow of a smile to Gideon’s lips.

“I suppose you think that’s no way for a woman to talk,” she snapped. Clearly her blood was still up. “Or do you doubt I’d do what I said?”

“Not for a moment, my dear.” Gideon leaned back in his chair, bathed in an unexpected release of tension and frustration. “I overheard you giving those two footmen a vigorous dressing down, remember? I only smiled now because I relished the thought of you making mince of those bullies aboard my ship. I know you would stand up for anyone you believe in, and I am flattered to count myself among that company.”

If only he had as able an advocate as her to present his case at the inquiry, he would feel much less doubtful of its outcome.

I
f the Royal Navy could not appreciate what a fine officer they had in Gideon Radcliffe, then the service did not deserve him!

In the wake of his confession about all that had happened aboard HMS
Integrity,
Marian could not help reassessing her hopes and plans for the future of those she cared for at Knightley Park. That now included not only her dear young pupils but also the captain.

When she’d first come to realize what a good, honorable man he was, she had hoped to enlist him as an
absentee
guardian for the girls. Now she thought it might be better for everyone if he put the Navy behind him and stayed here in Nottinghamshire.

From all she’d seen of his interaction with the girls, she believed he could be an ideal surrogate father to them. She hadn’t realized how much they needed a man in their lives until he’d begun spending time with them. Dolly responded so well to his kind firmness and his attention. Even Cissy, who had viewed Gideon as an interloper at first, was beginning to warm up to him.

Much as the girls needed him, Marian sensed he might need them even more. When he’d spoken of his ship and the way he’d treated his crew, she could tell the man secretly yearned for a family. Surely that deep need would be better filled by two dear girls who could reciprocate his feelings for them, rather than a pack of bullies, traitors and cowards who weren’t worthy of his regard.

As she and the girls headed out with Gideon to gather Christmas boughs, Marian told herself she should put aside all her planning and worries for the future and savor the joys of the season.

They made quite a numerous party, setting out from the house on Christmas Eve morning—along with the groundskeeper, a footman and a stable boy. The latter led a sturdy brown pony, which pulled a two-wheeled cart.

“This will be great fun!” Dolly skipped along at Gideon’s side, clinging to his hand as they headed toward a nearby coppice to harvest all the greenery they would need to deck the halls and rooms of the house. “Other years we always had to wait back in the nursery until the boughs were brought. I’d rather go out and fetch them.”

“At least the nursery was warm,” Cissy grumbled under her breath.

Marian flashed the child a warning look and hoped Gideon had not overheard. She knew Cissy was only reacting to Dolly’s implied criticism of how things had been done in their father’s time. Still, she did not want the captain thinking the girls were as ungrateful as his former crew for everything he tried to do for them.

Dolly must not have heard her sister or she would surely have had something to say about it. Instead she asked, “Can I have a hatchet to cut some boughs myself?”

The very idea of Dolly wielding an ax brought a half stifled gasp to Marian’s lips. Gideon would not agree, would he? Lately he’d become more and more indulgent of the little scamp.

“I believe it would be better to leave the actual cutting to those who know what they’re doing.” Gideon made it sound as if he’d actually considered the child’s outrageous request. “Besides, there will be plenty of work for the rest of us, choosing what we want cut and loading it into the cart.”

Dolly didn’t seem too disappointed. “Maybe next year.”

Marian lofted a heartfelt prayer toward the over-cast heavens that they would all be together next year, gathering Christmas greenery. Even then, she doubted she or Gideon would be inclined to trust Dolly with a hatchet.

“Tell me, Cousin Celia,” Gideon called over to the older girl. “How are you accustomed to decorating the house for Christmas?”

Marian caught his eye and gave a discreet nod of approval. He seemed to understand that the quickest way to Cissy’s heart was to honor the traditions of the past.

Just as Marian expected, the first words out of the child’s mouth referred to her late father. “Papa always liked to have evergreen boughs over the windows, with holly and ivy on the sills and over the mantelpieces.”

“That sounds very festive,” Gideon replied as the
cart stopped before a patch of woodland. “I remember the place being decked that way in our grandparents’ time. Did he still like to have the pictures hung with bay?”

“Yes, that’s right.” Cissy began to sound more enthusiastic.

“Don’t forget the kissing bough,” Dolly chimed in. “And mistletoe for over the doorways.”

“No, indeed,” Gideon replied. “We mustn’t forget those.”

Marian thought he sounded rather uneasy. Was he afraid of being accosted in doorways by a certain forward governess? She would have to make sure she gave him no such reason to want to leave Knightley Park and return to his ship.

Ah, the kissing bough. How could he have forgotten it?

As they collected boughs and other greenery for the Christmas decorating, Gideon thought back to his first and only experience with that perilous object. On his final Christmas at Knightley Park, a young lady from the neighborhood had managed to catch him beneath the kissing bough and demand the customary favor, much to his mortification.

He would have to beware of it and all the mistletoe-hung doorways throughout Knightley Park this Christmas season. Not that it would be a great hardship to kiss Marian Murray if they happened to be caught under the mistletoe—quite the contrary. The difficult part might be stopping.

Unlike her unexpected embrace in the library, a
public mistletoe kiss would not pose a threat to her reputation. Still, Gideon was reluctant to risk the pleasure of it. In the unlikely event that Miss Murray did entertain any particular fancy for him, he did not want to encourage her. He thought too highly of her to toy with her affections. He did not want to risk having her feelings injured if the inquiry found in his favor and he was returned to command.

But what if that did not happen? For the first time, Gideon permitted himself to entertain the possibility with something less than dread.

For who could be low in spirits on such a day, in such good company? True, the sun was hidden behind a thick bank of gray cloud, and the ground was a damp mixture of dull greens and browns. But his young cousins scampered about in bright wool cloaks, their cheeks nipped pink and their faces alight with eager smiles. When Gideon placed an armload of fresh-cut boughs in the cart, his nose tingled with the sharp tang of evergreen.

A vigorous tug on the hem of his coat made him look down at Dolly, who immediately darted away calling, “You can’t catch me, Cousin Gideon!”

She reminded him so much of her father that his years and cares seemed to fall away until he felt almost like the boy of those long-ago Christmases.

“Oh, can’t I?” He lunged toward the child, but she dodged around the cart with a gleeful shriek.

“Too slow! Too slow!” She taunted him.

“We’ll see who’s slow.” He ran after the little minx, but she picked up her skirts and tore off, leading him a merry chase.

“Be careful, Dolly,” her governess warned. “The ground is muddy, and the laundress won’t thank you if she has to scrub a lot of dirt out of your skirts.”

Cissy laughed. “You made a rhyme, Miss Marian. Scrub the dirt from Dolly’s skirt!” Perhaps wanting a share in her little sister’s fun, she skipped away. “Can’t catch me!”

Much running and dodging ensued to the accompaniment of more taunts, squeals and wild laughter. By the time Gideon and Miss Murray cornered the two little runners, they were all red-faced and winded. For the first time in many years, Gideon’s sides ached from laughing. And he had forgotten all about the inquiry.

“Thank goodness…the others have not…shirked the job,” he panted. “Or we might have…a sadly bare house…for the holidays.”

“I thought we needed to get warmed up.” Dolly chortled. “And it worked, didn’t it?”

“I cannot deny that.” He reached over and tipped down the brim of her bonnet. “But now that we are warm, hadn’t we better lend a hand with the work?”

“What can I do?” The child held out her empty hands. “You wouldn’t let me have a hatchet.”

A hatchet, indeed—the little monkey!

Gideon tossed her a sack from the cart. “Let’s go see if we can find some holly.”

They located a fine bush not too far away and collected plenty of sprigs for decorating—the leaves a bright, waxy green, the clusters of berries plump and crimson.

By noon they had managed to fill the cart with
everything they needed. They headed back to the house triumphant.

“My legs are tired,” Dolly complained.

“No wonder,” Marian Murray said, shaking her head. “After all that running around, which was your idea, don’t forget.”

“I know.” Dolly heaved a sigh and trudged on.

“Here.” Gideon picked the child up and hoisted her onto the pony’s broad back. “Is that better?”

Dolly bobbed her head. “Much better, thank you, Cousin Gideon.”

“It’s not fair,” Cissy muttered. “She gets to ride while I have to walk.”

“We can’t have that, can we?” replied Gideon. “If you would like to ride, I reckon this fellow can carry one more.”

Cissy gave a solemn nod. She stiffened when Gideon swung her up beside her sister, but soon relaxed and seemed to enjoy the short ride home.

Once they had arrived back and removed their wraps, Gideon ushered “the ladies” into the parlor, where the Yule log crackled and glowed in the hearth, giving off fragrant, earthy warmth. Pulling chairs close around the fire, they extended cold fingers and feet to thaw. One of the maids appeared with a tray of cake and mugs of hot, spicy-sweet cider to complete their warming from the inside.

While they ate and drank, Dolly proceeded to interrogate Gideon. “Tell us all the places you’ve spent Christmas on your ship.”

He took a long sip of cider and thought back over the years. “Out in the Channel for many of the last several.
Before that, once in Mexico, which I told you about. Twice each in Malta and Jamaica. Once in Naples. Once in Nova Scotia.”

“Where’s that?” asked Cissy.

“Across the Atlantic, north of the American states. There is enough evergreen there in a single acre to deck a hundred-thousand halls, and a vast deal of snow.”

“I wish we had some snow.” Dolly took a large bite of cake. “It makes all outdoors look like it’s covered in a white blanket.”

Gideon glanced toward the window. “You may get your wish before the day is out.”

“What makes you say that?” Cissy nibbled daintily at her cake.

“The way the clouds are massed in the northwest and the smell of the air.” Gideon explained how the welfare of his ship and crew often depended on his ability to foretell the approaching weather.

Miss Murray remained quiet, yet Gideon still found himself conscious of her nearness. While he addressed his conversation to the girls, he watched out of the corner of his eye to see how she reacted. Did she lean forward to catch every word? Did her clever dark eyes sparkle with interest? Did some little quip of his coax a fleeting smile to her lips?

When all the cake and cider had been consumed, Gideon rubbed his hands together. “Now we had better get to work and deck these halls, don’t you think?”

Dolly jumped from her chair. “The kissing bough first!”

The footmen fetched in boughs and bags of other greenery. Then they set up an occasional table and
brought wire and trimmings for the construction. Acting on the girls’ directions, Gideon bent and wrapped lengths of thick wire into several large hoops. Then he joined and fastened the hoops into the skeleton of a globe.

The procedure required additional hands to hold the hoops in place while Gideon lashed them together with finer wire. Miss Murray quietly lent her assistance. The supple strength of her long-fingered hands made her perfect for the job. As he worked, Gideon could not prevent his hands from brushing against hers. Every time it happened, his heart seemed to beat a little faster.

“Not too dismal for a first effort.” He looked the thing over with a critical eye when he’d finished.

“It’s fine.” Miss Murray hastened to reassure him. “The frame doesn’t need to be pretty. No one will see it when all the boughs and trimmings get attached. As long as it’s strong and holds together, that is what matters.”

She was right, Gideon acknowledged as he fastened fir and cedar boughs to the bare wire frame in overlapping rows. Gradually the kissing bough took shape. Then the girls and Miss Murray took over, adorning the plain evergreen globe with red velvet ribbons and oranges he’d purchased from the market in nearby Newark. The tart aroma of the fruit mingled with the spicy fragrance of cloves. Cissy and Dolly had studded the oranges with those in fanciful patterns.

The finishing touch was the choicest sprig of mistletoe with a rich cluster of pearly white berries. Fastened into place and trimmed with a scarlet bow, it hung down from the bottom of the kissing bough. Then the
chandelier in the middle of the high parlor ceiling was lowered and the kissing bough attached to it, as had been the tradition at Knightley Park for so many years past.

When the chandelier was raised back into place and their creation hung above them in all its Yuletide glory, Dolly broke into a cheer. “You see, Cousin Gideon, it looks wonderful!”

Standing back with his arms crossed, Gideon gave a nod of satisfaction. “We can all be proud of our handiwork. I must admit, I would have had no idea how to begin without all your advice and assistance.”

Though he addressed his words to all three of them, it was to Miss Murray in particular he intended to speak. He and she made a very capable partnership.

“It is a beauty.” She gazed up at the kissing bough with a glow of admiration in her dark eyes.

While Marian Murray’s attention was fixed elsewhere, Gideon stole the chance to admire
her
beauty. He hadn’t been much impressed with her looks when they first met. But as he’d become better acquainted with her, that had changed. Now he glimpsed intelligence and humor in her eyes, courage in the tilt of her chin and tenderness and generosity in her full lips. None of her features, on its own, measured up to an accepted standard of feminine beauty. Yet, taken together, and illuminated by her indomitable spirit, they became something far more rare.