A Yuletide Treasure by Cynthia Bailey Pratt Read Free Book Online Page A

caught herself before she could utter a criticism. Even in the dimness of the bedroom, Camilla could see the color that stained her cheeks.
    “Certainly not in the middle of a snowstorm, I’m sure.” Camilla approached the fire, holding out her hands to the blaze. “Goodness, I’m cold sheer through. I don’t think I’ve been out in weather like that since I was a little girl. My father used to take us sledding down the big hill behind our house in Devon.”
    “Merridew says it’ll blow over by tomorrow. My sisters are hoping for a white Christmas.”
    Nanny’s croak came from the bed. “A white Christmas means a white spring.”
    “What’s that?” Tinarose asked. “A white spring?”
    “Weddings, child. Many weddings. And after, many children, I only hope I’ll be there to see it.”
    “And why not?” Camilla challenged. “You heard Mr. Perriflyn say that there wasn’t much the matter—merely a sprain.”
    “It’s not the same when you’re old,” she said, her voice shaking. Camilla realized that now Nanny Mallow felt herself to be safe and cared for, she could give in to the fear that she had fought so valiantly while lying alone in her cottage.
    Before the tears she saw in Nanny Mallow’s eyes could slip over the wrinkled cheeks, she turned to the other two girls. In the light of the candles beside the bed, she saw that they were of an age, Tinarose LaCorte perhaps only a year or so older than her servant.
    “Mavis, will you fetch Nanny’s valise? I last saw it in the entry hall. And if you would, could you ask someone to bring up some hot water for tea?”
    “Tea,” Nanny Mallow sighed, as if offered a ticket into heaven. “Did I tell you to pack my herbs and infusions, Camilla?”
    “No, but I’m sure someone here has some of your making. Am I right, Miss LaCorte?”
    “I might know where to put my hand on some,” Tinarose said with a sideways glance and half a smile. She was pretty in her youth and health, though her nose was too long for beauty and her eyes bore dark circles. The unadorned frock of a schoolroom miss did nothing to increase her charms. With her dark hair and slightly olive skin, she would have been dramatic and fascinating in deep red. But even when she made her debut, such shades would be forbidden to her.
    “Let’s be about it, then,” Camilla said, dismissing her troop.
    Before the girls returned, Mavis’s mother came bustling in. Shorter even than her half-grown daughter, she bore herself with great pride, her black hair as elaborately set and curled as any grand lady making her curtsey before the king.
    “If I’m not wanted, Miss ...” she began as soon as she put her foot over the threshold.
    “Don’t be so daft,” Nanny Mallow said with a return of spirit. “I can’t help myself, so there’s only you to do it. You’re almost as good a nurse as you think you are, so get on with it. And you...,” she said, catching Camilla’s hand. “There’s no words under my tongue to tell you what my gratitude is.”
    “Hush now....”
    “No, people should speak of such things. I owe you much and what I owe I pay. Now along with you. Tell one of those girls to fill you a bath and get out of those wet boots before you catch your death.”
    Suddenly, as the image of a brass tub appeared in her mind, complete with curls of steam rising from the verbena-scented depths, Camilla couldn’t bear her damp and bedraggled condition another instant. Pausing only to squeeze Nanny Mallow’s hand, she hurried to the door. “Oh, please, which room is mine?”
    “You might as well take the one next door,” Mrs. Duke said grudgingly. “It’s not as fine as this, but considering you’re a lady born and not an old witchwoman, it’ll have to do.”
    “Save the soft words, you old besom,” Nanny Mallow said, “and come over here to get me out of these clothes. Youngsters don’t need to see what they’ll be coming to by ‘n’ by.”
    A peek in the room next door