Thrown Out on Christmas Eve, She Took Shelter in an Empty House — Unaware the Duke Was Coming Home
Chapter 6
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"Everyone liked the red ring," said Hannah. "It was the old Duchess who started it, Father told me. She came into the shop when I was a girl and asked if he could make her a candle that would tell her when to stop. She said she always sat up too late on Christmas Eve waiting for her son to come home from somewhere, and she wanted something to tell her it was time to go to bed." Hannah smiled a little at the memory. "So Father put a ring of red in it, and after that, half the valley wanted one."Edmund turned away and looked very hard at the fire.He remembered those Christmas Eves: he had been young and foolish at Cambridge, then in London, always arriving late, always certain there would be another year. He had not known about the candle. He had not known she sat up."Are you all right?" Hannah asked."Smoke," said Edmund, "from the range. It needs sweeping.""It doesn't," said Hannah. "I looked."But she let it go, and he was grateful.She slept a little in the end, sitting up at the table with her head on her arms. Edmund did not sleep at all: he sat on the other side of the range with the gray cat on his knee, and listened to the boy cough, and watched the snow climb up the window.Christmas morning came white and silent. The drive had vanished. The road had vanished. The yard was a smooth sea of snow up to the height of a man's knee, and more was falling.Hannah woke to find the stranger called Ned already out in it, digging a path to the woodpile with a coal shovel. He had taken off his coat. Under it, he wore a shirt of very fine linen, finer than anything in Lower Ashmere, though it was creased, and he had rolled the sleeves to the elbow like a farmhand.She noticed the shirt. She noticed, too, that he had slipped a gold ring into his waistcoat pocket before he began to dig. A caretaker's wages did not run to rings like that. Hannah decided he had probably been given it, and she was in no position to ask questions about anyone's honesty.When he came in, red-faced and stamping, she had tea ready, found in a very old tin in the housekeeper's room."You're up," he said."I've been up for an hour. Sam's better this morning; the warmth helped." She handed him a cup. "I need to ask you something.""Ask.""Where are the candles?"He blinked. "The candles?""In this house. I went looking for more light this morning. The house is so dark, even in daytime, with all the shutters closed. A house this size should have a candle room, or at least a great chest of them in the housekeeper's store. I found the store. The shelves are empty. There isn't a single candle in Ashmere House except the one I brought." She paused. "Not even a stub. Not even a rush."Edmund set down his cup slowly. "There should be," he said.