17. Marie Comes Home
CHAPTER 17
Marie Comes Home
T wo weeks later, Louise scolded herself for being selfish about Shaun’s absence. She missed him with an ache, which contrasted with her pride that Lord Ferndale had entrusted Shaun Jackson and only Shaun Jackson with the task of recruiting a new doctor for the town.
A great many people wore black armbands out of respect for Dr Rasley; Louise, Bernadette and Mrs Poole included. They may not have needed the doctor’s services, but the rest of the town had and still did.
Privately, Louise admitted she had begun to wonder if Rasley might have harboured a grudge against Bernadette for her activities helping women. But those women would have suffered in silence instead of going to a man for their troubles, so she’d hardly stolen his business.
Still, she couldn’t help ruminating that perhaps Dr Rasley had been somehow involved. Was this why he was never available to help injured people in the evenings? His housekeeper had always said he was asleep. What if he’d only told her that as an excuse, and was instead out at all hours lighting fires?
“I’m getting carried away.” She shook her head as she entered some numbers into the ledger. Adding them up required concentration, which she utterly lacked as her head was filled with thoughts of Shaun and the mysterious arsonist.
After a fruitless few minutes, she shoved the book aside and left it for when Shaun came home.
Bernadette came in from the outside, her face pink from the cold. Brutus was only a step behind her and grabbed the door before it closed again, to stop it from jangling the bell so much. She hadn’t wanted to take any of Shaun’s army men with her for protection, so Brutus had volunteered instead. He wasn’t as tall or as daunting as the former soldiers, and was happy to sit and read until he was needed to escort Bernadette back to the shop.
“Is it wrong of me to prioritise the Allom family because they pay in pork pies?” Bernadette said with a grin.
“It would be difficult not to have favourites,” Louise agreed. “Save me a half, please.”
The bell above the front door jangled again and Louise gasped in surprise at the sight of her sister.
“Marie!” All thought of pork pies vanished as she darted out from the counter to reach her sister for a welcome embrace. “Oh, Marie, I’m so glad you’re home!”
Bernadette threw herself into the welcome with a cry of joy.
“I missed you so much,” Marie said.
“How was the Earl of D…”
A large man, though not as tall nor wide as Shaun, entered the shop on Marie’s heels. He took off his hat to greet them.
“Louise, Bernadette, this is the Earl of Renwick.” Marie gave her a pointed look. “My lord, these are my sisters, Miss Louise and Miss Bernadette, and my cousin, Master Brutus Baxter, and this is Miss Ruth Millings.”
Everyone made respectable curtseys and bows. The earl in turn delivered a warm smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes and said, “Delighted to make your acquaintances. Miss Louise, I understand I have you to thank especially for my books arriving in excellent condition.”
“That is most kind, my lord,” Louise said. “I was relieved when Marie relayed that good news.”
Mrs Poole came down the stairs and said, “I thought I heard good news.” She embraced Marie warmly. “It’s so good to see you. How is your ankle?”
“It is very well, and fully healed,” Marie said. “I have his lordship to thank for that.”
“Miss Baxter was an excellent patient,” Lord Renwick said, playing with the brim of his hat.
“Let me take that for you,” Mrs Poole fussed, taking his hat and gloves and placing them on the counter.
It was a lovely reunion, and Louise couldn’t help thinking the Earl of Demanding appeared so much kinder in person than in correspondence.
Two young boys had followed the earl in and were looking about, wide-eyed; Marie introduced them as the earl’s sons, George and Richard. Louise thought they were around the same age as Brutus, and suggested Brutus show them about the shop, especially the shelf of adventure books which boys of that age seemed to particularly enjoy. Considering how much their father regularly spent on books, surely he could spend a few shillings on reading matter for his sons!
“Choose whatever books you like,” the earl called after them, reinforcing Louise’s guess, before he looked back at Marie, a softness coming to his face. “And where would I find the books you asked your sisters to set aside for me, Miss Baxter?”
Marie looked to Louise, who blushed, remembering the content of many of those books. “They’re in the locked cabinet under the counter,” she admitted. “Let me get them out for you, my lord.”
Watching the way the earl and Marie bent their heads together over the books, a certain suspicion entered Louise’s mind. The way Renwick had looked at Marie made Louise think of the way Shaun had looked at her, just before he had left for London. The way he’d looked at her on more than one occasion, when she’d suspected he might be thinking of kissing her.
But surely the Earl of Renwick and her sister… no. That was patently a ridiculous thought, and Louise set it aside.
“I can’t believe that’s the Earl of Demanding,” Bernadette said quietly, coming up beside Louise where she lingered tidying the lending library shelf.
“I know! He’s nice!” Louise peeked around the edge of the shelf to see the earl giving Marie that look again. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “And I think he might be sweet on Marie.”
“What!” Bernadette’s eyes went very round, and she too peeked around the edge of the shelf. “Well I never. He’s looking at her just the way Mr Jackson looks at you, I think you’re right!”
Eventually, the earl finished selecting his books and called to his sons, saying a little regretfully that they needed to make their farewells and get a meal at The Red Lion, before they retired to their rooms. They would leave for Eton in the morning where he was taking the boys to school. George and Richard added several more books to the pile and the earl paid Marie with a cheerful smile.
Renwick reached for his gloves and hat, then suddenly stopped. “What’s this?” The hat tilted and the weight was off balance. Pie the cat sat up from inside the hat with a loud “miaow” of discontent.
Renwick laughed heartily at the surprise. “Well, Miss Marie, you did say I needed a cat!”
Marie’s hands pressed over her face in shock.
Louise said, “This is Pie, full name Pied Piper, and we do need to find a home for him. He is an excellent mouser.” She refrained from describing Pie’s penchant for leaving entrails of disembowelled rodents everywhere. At least Crafty had the good grace to favour one place for her remainders behind the counter.
Good-natured laughter followed as the earl gently shook Pie’s paw.
“Oh, can we really have him, Pa?” one of the boys asked - the fairer one, Louise thought it was George.
“Well.” The earl looked thoughtful. “I suppose I could come back this way, after I go to London. Would you keep him for me for a week or two, Miss Baxter?” he asked Marie.
“Of course! I am sure he’ll have a wonderful life hunting down the mice in Alston Castle for you.” Marie looked happy, and Louise rather suspected it was at the prospect of seeing the earl again when he returned. Whatever was going on between the two of them? She had a lot of questions to ask her sister!
“We’ll call by in the morning before we leave for Eton,” the earl said as they prepared to take their leave.
Just then, the bell jangled, and Shaun walked into the shop.
“You’re back!” Louise cried in delight, and Shaun gave her a broad grin, before his eyes fell on Renwick and widened.
“My lord,” he said.
“You!” Renwick looked equally surprised, though quite pleased, and held out his hand for Shaun to shake. “Very good to see you again, ah…” he paused, glancing around at the watching Baxter sisters.
“Jackson,” Shaun said. “Shaun Jackson. And yes, that’s my real name.”
“Sergeant?” Renwick said.
“It was Colonel, actually, but now I’m retired.”
This was quite the oddest conversation Louise had ever witnessed! It was obvious that the two men knew each other, but equally obvious that Renwick had not the slightest idea what Shaun’s name was, or the army rank he’d held. Which, at Colonel, was significantly more elevated than Louise had ever suspected.
“What ever was that all about?” she asked when Renwick and his sons had left, and Marie went upstairs with Bernadette to unpack.
Shaun leaned on the counter, smiling down at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling in that way which always made her knees feel a little weak. “Renwick was quite highly placed in the War Office, overseeing supplies going all over the Continent. I reported directly to him on several occasions, but as I was an undercover agent being regularly relocated to different regiments, I was constantly changing my identity. He never knew my real name.”
“How very cloak and dagger!” She was forever learning new things about Shaun, it seemed, and all of them fascinating. “ Colonel .”
“Retired,” he said firmly. “I sold my commission. Just plain Mister Jackson. Or… Shaun, if you prefer.”
Heat crept up her cheeks. She’d called him Shaun that morning after the fire at the doctor’s house, quite unconsciously. It had slipped out when she saw him looking so exhausted, emotionally as well as physically wrung out.
The bell jangled as a customer came in, and Louise silently cursed the interruption. Was she destined never to get a moment alone with Shaun to tell him how she felt? He stepped back with a polite smile to let her see to the customer, who turned out to be a traveller passing through who was looking for rare books. Louise shot Shaun an apologetic smile, realising she would not be able to attend to the matter quickly.
“I need to go and speak to Lord Ferndale,” Shaun said quietly. “I’ll call in and see you tomorrow, you’ll no doubt want to spend the evening with your sister, now she’s home safe.”
The following afternoon, Marie was upstairs resting - she seemed quite exhausted after her long journey home. Mrs Poole and Rosie were cleaning, Brutus had been assigned to walk Ruth home and Bernadette had gone with them to deliver some tonic for Mrs Millings’ headaches. Shaun had come in and was now behind the counter quickly adding up the numbers in the ledger for the day.
Louise stood beside Shaun in the empty shop, her soul yearning.
“It’s so quiet all of a sudden,” Louise said in a wistful tone.
“Beautifully quiet,” he said, placing the quill back into the ink pot. He turned to face her and reached for her hand. “Time is of the essence,” he said, with a smile filled with promise.
Her hand in his felt so right. His thumb played over the top of her hand and he raised it to his lips. Louise’s breath hitched and she silently prayed that nobody would disturb them, not even the cats. She stepped closer to him, her heart racing in anticipation.
He asked, “Should I lock the shop door?”
She shook her head and repeated his words back to him, “Time is of the essence,” and tilted her face up to his.
His lips brushed hers in the softest whisper, proving once again this magnificent, strong man could be light and tender when the occasion required. Her hand reached his neck and she pulled him in closer. Heart leaping with joy, her body thrummed as they deepened their kiss. Nothing else mattered but his lips on hers. The scent of him teased her brain as her hands caressed his strong neck muscles. His arms came around her waist, holding them together.
Louise luxuriated in the beautiful moment. He pulled away for a second and she caught her breath, but Louise was not done.
She kissed him again, claiming him for her own. He utterly belonged to her now. As if there were any doubt.
And she belonged to him, heart and soul.
Making up for lost time, Louise wrapped her arms about his broad shoulders. Her lips parted with a sigh. Matching her enthusiasm, Shaun’s tongue traced the edge of her lip.
Bliss!
Footsteps sounded on the stairs and they jumped apart.
“Oh!” Marie stood there, eyes round with shock.
Shaun cleared his throat, flushing red. A bubble of laughter caught in Louise’s throat. “Far better it be Marie than Cousin Joshua!”
Shaun said nothing, but his shoulders shook in silent laughter.
Marie huffed and headed back upstairs.
Despite her bubble of happiness at having finally found time to kiss Shaun, and so gloriously too, Louise had seen tears in her sister’s eyes. “She seems upset, I’d best see to her.”
Shaun hadn’t finished adding up the numbers, but he turned to Louise and delivered another kiss. He pulled away a little, their foreheads touching. “You’re amazing.”
Louise giggled and stole one more quick kiss from him before heading upstairs herself.
She could have been walking on air. Louise barely felt the steps beneath her feet as she climbed the stairs.
Marie was sitting at the table, her face resting against one hand.
Mrs Poole fussed over her. “You’ve hardly touched your currant bun.”
To Louise’s horror, Marie began to cry, great fat tears running down her cheeks. Louise rushed over and threw her arms around her sister.
“Oh Marie, I’m so sorry you walked in on me and Shaun kissing…”
“Wait, you were kissing Mr Jackson?” Mrs Poole said, startled, but Louise waved her off.
Marie shook her head, gulping back sobs. “It’s not that, Lou, it’s… oh, I love him, and… and…”
“And he’s coming back in a few days to collect Pie, you’ll see him again.” Louise tried to sound bracing, but inwardly she wondered. She’d thought from the first moment she saw them looking at each other that something might be happening. Their eldest sister would be a baroness one day, so why couldn’t Marie be a countess?
Renwick did indeed return several days later, buying some more books and taking Pie, but then he left again after he and Marie had some sort of fight! Marie seemed to spend all her time crying in her room, quite unable to take on her usual duties in the bookshop. Louise and Bernadette were desperately worried about her.
Shaun was so busy, Louise barely saw him; the new fire pumper was delivered and the fire brigade had to be trained in its operation. Adding to their woes, another new problem had presented itself; Benjamin Baxter was making a nuisance of himself around Ruth.
Louise had been concerned about Ruth for a while. The vicar’s daughter was a quiet little thing who seemed withdrawn most of the time, rarely even cracking a smile. Her father was quite horrible, of course, the worst kind of fire-and-brimstone preacher, and her mother a downtrodden mouse of a woman who was forever taking to her bed with a headache, perhaps unsurprising with such a husband.
Ruth was, however, quite the most beautiful young woman in Hatfield, even at only fourteen years old. She had a perfect pale oval for a face, large blue eyes and hair like spun gold. It was no surprise the young men of Hatfield stared when she walked past, but Benjamin was a canny boy who seemed to have infinite time on his hands and no scruples about taking things further than merely admiring looks. While he couldn’t bother Ruth in the bookshop for fear of Louise and her crowbar, he would lurk around outside waiting for Ruth to come out on an errand and then pester her. It was a relief that he was going away to school soon, Louise thought.
“He can’t go off to school soon enough,” Louise said grimly to Marie, who had finally come out of her room after two days of crying, and was sitting behind the counter checking the account book.
“Who’s going to school?” Marie asked drearily, not bothering to look up.
“Benjamin!”
That got Marie’s interest. “Why?” She pushed her spectacles up her nose and peered at Louise. “And where?”
“Some school in Oxford. Joshua finally realised that Benjamin can’t get a gentleman’s education at university if he’s barely literate. They found somewhere in Oxford for him. He’s leaving soon, thank goodness!”
Crafty came padding around the edge of the counter and jumped up into Marie’s lap. “Hello, girl,” Marie murmured, cuddling the cat. “Are you missing your son?” She sniffled a little bit.
“If you’re going to cry again, you might as well go back upstairs,” Louise said.
Marie gave her a glare, though her eyes were watering. “Just because your romance is going well! You might have a little sympathy.”
“I’m sorry.” She was; she hadn’t meant to be unkind. Watching Crafty tolerating being cuddled - even the cat seemed to feel sorry for Marie - Louise hesitated, and then said, “Marie, I think you should write to him.”
“To Renwick?” Marie gulped back a sob. “It’s no use. He’s an earl, and I’m… just me.”
“You aren’t ‘just’ anything. You’re Marie Baxter; you’re clever and unique and far prettier than you realise, and he was looking at you like you hung the moon and the stars. And so were his sons!” Louise bent down and brushed a strand of loose hair off her sister’s wet cheek. “Your heart isn’t here any more, is it?”
Marie shook her head wordlessly.
“You need to tell him,” Louise said gently. “Take your chance, Marie. Tell him how you feel. What do you have to lose?”
“I suppose…” Marie said slowly. “Either he doesn’t feel the same way and I’ll never see him again, or…”
“Or he does love you and he’ll come back for you. But if you don’t write, how will he know that you want him to?” Louise asked logically, thinking that being in love appeared to have absolutely ruined Marie’s normally excellent powers of deduction.
“You’re right. You’re quite right!” Marie jumped up, upsetting Crafty who streaked off with an indignant yowl, and ran off up the stairs, presumably to start writing her letter.
With a sigh, Louise picked up the overturned stool and sat back down behind the counter.
At least I’ll have Shaun to help me with the accounts , Louise thought with a little smile, closing the book and setting it aside for later. She felt almost guilty for being so happy while Marie was miserable, but hopefully she’d been right about the way Renwick had looked at Marie. She rather thought that letter would find an eager reception, and then Marie would be off to Cumbria for good.