Cambridge, December 1790
Lord Hugh Radley closed his travel trunk one last time, silently reassuring himself that he had indeed got everything he would need for the trip to Scotland. He turned and groaned. There, sitting on the end of his bed, was the pair of boots he was certain he had already packed.
“You would forget your head if it wasn’t attached,” he muttered.
He would be needing the boots for the ice-covered roads around his family home in Scotland. After adding the boots and closing the lid of the travel trunk once more, he stepped back and allowed the porters to take his luggage.
He had been looking forward to this day for months. Christmas at the Radley clan’s ancestral home, Strathmore Castle, was always a special time. Hugh was champing at the bit to see his family.
He would be making the trip north this year, along with two of his sisters and their respective spouses. With all of them in the one coach, it was going to be a cramped four-day journey. He had packed several books in his travel bag, intending to bury his nose in them rather than attempt hours of small talk. As much as he loved his family, he had important documents he needed to study and commit to memory before he returned to England in the new year.
“When the coach arrives, could you make sure my luggage is safely loaded onto it? If my family asks, please tell them I have to see a friend before I leave, but I won’t be long.” He followed the porters out of his private rooms and locked the door behind him.
For a moment, he stood with the palm of his hand laid against the solid oak door. It would be the last time he touched it. He was no longer a student at St John’s College, Cambridge University. His days of living on the campus of the hallowed halls of learning were now at an end.
“Lord Hugh Radley, BA Theology. Fancy that,” he said.
He crossed the college courtyard then strolled along a walkway with edges bordered by tall white rose bushes before finally arriving at a black door with a brass nameplate.
Professor J. L. Gray.
He knocked on the door and opened it. Professor Gray’s rooms were never locked.
“Mary, it’s Hugh. I’ve come to say farewell,” he cheerfully called out.
A hand rose from behind a pile of old exam papers and waved. “Down here.”
Stepping around a neat stack of books, he found her. Mary Gray was kneeling on the floor, dust pan and brush in hand.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“A spot of cleaning. I moved a few more of Papa’s piles of papers this morning and actually found the floor. I dread to think the last time the stone flagging saw daylight,” she replied.
He held a hand out to her and helped Mary to her feet. Her gaze took in his coat and scarf, and she smiled.
“So, you are off to Scotland for Christmas?
“Yes, the travel coach will be here shortly. I have sent the porters and my luggage out to the main courtyard to await its arrival,” he replied.
She looked around the room, then back to him. “It must feel a little odd to be leaving here for the last time.”
He had thought it would be his last time, but earlier in the week he had been given the news that he still had some minor studies to complete before he could take up his post as curate at St Martins-in-the-Fields in central London.
“Actually, it’s not the very last time I shall be on campus. I have to come back after Christmas for a week. I will stay at one of the inns in town, but I shall drop by and say hello,” he replied.
Mary nodded, a tight smile sat briefly on her lips. She picked up another pile of papers and straightened them. He sensed she was nervous.
“Is your sister Adelaide making the trip with her newborn? I remember when she visited at half term and she was complaining about how swollen her ankles were,” said Mary. She put the papers down again and stood, tapping her fingers on the top of the pile.
Mary always fidgeted when she was uncomfortable about something.
Adelaide and Charles Alexandre had been blessed with the birth of a son, William, in early October. Hugh was dreading the prospect of sharing a cramped travel coach with a wailing infant but needs must.
“Yes, she is. My brother, Ewan, has commanded that as many members of the family as possible should make the trip this year. My sister Anne and her new husband, the Duke of Mowbray, are also going to be travelling with us,” he said. His other sister Davina, the Countess of Shale, was with child and unable to travel.
Mary wiped her hands on her apron. “Do you have time for a cup of coffee before you go?”
Hugh shook his head. “No. The coach will be here soon, and I shouldn’t keep them waiting. I just wanted to come by and wish you a merry Christmas.”
At his words, her face lit up. She quickly scuttled from the room, then returned with a small parcel in her hands. She offered it to Hugh. He set down his travel bag, along with the book he was carrying, and took it.
“Merry Christmas, Hugh. It’s not much; just a little gift,” she said.
He accepted the present with a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. He had been so disorganized and muddleheaded when it came to making ready for the journey to Scotland that he had completely forgotten to buy her a Christmas present.
Poor form, Radley. Too busy thinking about yourself, and not enough about her.
With the death of her father earlier in the year, Mary would be spending her first Christmas without her beloved papa. Hugh felt the heat of embarrassment burning on his cheeks. “Oh, I am so sorry. I completely forgot to get you a gift. I am the very worst of friends,” he said.
She nodded at the parcel in his hands. “That’s perfectly alright. You have been busy studying. Christmas no doubt crept up on you,” she replied.
Hugh opened the present and his discomfort deepened. Inside was a bar of beautifully wrapped French soap, and a small bottle of gentleman’s cologne. It must have cost Mary a good deal of money. Money, he suspected she did not have in abundance.
“You shouldn’t have,” he said.
She smiled. “Nonsense. As soon as I saw them in the shop, I thought of you. I hope you like them.”
“I do, and I promise I shall bring you back a special gift from Scotland when I return after Christmas. I cannot believe that I could be so absentminded to forget about getting you something. I am mortified,” he replied.
Mary reached out and placed a hand on Hugh’s cheek. “It’s fine. The fact that you like my present is reward enough.”
The warmth of her hand on his face stirred once more to life the longing he had held for her these past two years. Somewhere in the endless nights of her bringing him toast and coffee for supper while he studied alongside her father, his thoughts of Mary had changed from those of friendship to those of love.
But with her father being the head of theology and divinity, and the man directly responsible for the conferring of Hugh’s degree, he had not dared to move on those feelings.
Now, the temptation to pull her into his arms and kiss her senseless was almost too strong to resist. The heavenly scent of her perfume filled his senses. His fingers twitched with anticipation.
When she withdrew her hand and turned away, Hugh was left to battle emotions of regret and relief. She had never shown any sign of being interested in him in a romantic way, so it was best that he not act on those impulses. With her father now gone, only a cad of the lowest kind would press his attentions on a vulnerable young woman.
“So, when are you leaving to visit with your mother’s family?” he asked. He prayed she did not hear the shake in his voice as he spoke.
“Oh, sometime later in the week. I am yet to make final arrangements,” she replied.
“And you will be back after the new year? I only ask because when I return, I would like for us to have a conversation.”
A conversation that he hoped would involve him declaring his love for her, and Mary, in turn, considering that a future shared with him might not be the worst thing she could imagine doing with her life.
A knock at the door interrupted them, but as he turned away, Hugh caught a glimpse of Mary. She was biting down on her bottom lip.
It stopped him in his tracks.