O Night Divine: A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales

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O Night Divine: A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales Page 65

by Kathryn Le Veque


  Not just the love of friendship, but desire. She had grown, and he had finally realized what it was he wanted, and he had taken it. She made him want to do terrible things to her–terribly wonderful things…

  And of course, she was wealthy. What was her dowry, twenty thousand pounds? Twenty-five thousand pounds, perhaps?

  He could barely remember, but each and every pound would be vital. What that amount could do for his income, it was difficult to calculate, but–

  “I said outside, you blaggard! Outside, and face me like a man, if man you be!”

  Alexander blinked. John was standing before him, fists up like a caricature of a boxer, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and his face a picture of righteous anger.

  But he could not force Alexander to fight if he did not want to. No, he needed to speak, not fight. Speak the truth, say what he had only discovered a few minutes ago.

  “I love her.”

  The room went very still. Charlotte’s mouth fell open in surprise, and even William’s eyebrows raised. John’s arms fell to his sides as he looked between the two of them.

  Alexander could barely bring himself to look to his left at the woman whose hand he was holding. What if this was all just some harmless fun? What if he was her entertainment? Young ladies did that, he knew, and his heart would break if he was just a plaything to distract her during the Christmastide.

  He tilted his head towards her and took in her smile, her bright eyes, her wondrous look.

  “Really?” she breathed. “Truly, you…you love me?”

  How could he say anything else but the truth?

  “Truly,” Alexander said, slightly uncomfortable, this declaration of first love had an audience. “I-I did not know before today. Before this afternoon, even? I do not think so. I do not think I…I understood how I felt.”

  Her hands were warm in his, and he could not tell whether it was her pulse or his own, which throbbed between them. He could not take his eyes away from her now. How could anyone? How had Prudence walked the world without hundreds of men falling at her feet?

  “Why else do I look forward to your letters so desperately, keeping every one?” he said softly. “Why do you think I took the living in Bath? I told myself it was a wealthy town, one likely to gain me patronage, but I think now it was because it brought me closer to you. You are the only one for me, Pru.”

  There was a bitter laugh. Alexander turned to see William shaking his head in disbelief.

  “You think I have ill intentions?” Alexander said, attempting to keep his voice calm. If he ever wished to wed Pru, and it was what he wanted most desperately, he would need William’s permission–or else wait for seven long years.

  “Ill intentions?” William laughed. “I do not doubt you are a good man, Michaels, but I cannot help but notice how very convenient it is that the woman you decide you are ‘in love’ with is not only part of a wealthy family, but is wealthy in her own right! Well, this wealthy family sticks together. I will protect her despite herself.”

  “You think I cannot make my own decisions?” Pru said with derision. “You think because I am younger than you, my choices are not relevant?”

  “It does all seem very fast, dear,” said Charlotte quietly. The matriarch of the family had her hands around her belly protectively.

  “It was but two months between you meeting William and engaging yourself to be married to him!” Pru protested. “And I have known Alexander for almost all my life!”

  John shook his head. He had taken a step backward but had not managed to unclench his hands. “You are so innocent in the ways of the world, Pru. You have no idea what men like Michaels are like.”

  Anger flared in Alexander’s stomach. “I beg your pardon? What men like me are like?”

  “Fortune hunters,” William supplied. “Do not think I haven’t seen your kind before, sniffing around at Pru. Well, I tell you Michaels, you will get no penny of it. Lady Prudence Lennox is under my guardianship, and I have the right to withhold her dowry for a marriage that does not please me, until she reaches the age of twenty-five. So unless you wish to wait seven years, you can kiss her twenty thousand goodbye.”

  It was impossible to prevent the instinct. Alexander opened his mouth but hesitated and then glanced at Pru. She was smiling, evidently happier than she ever had been.

  Only when he repeated, “Withhold her dowry,” did her face fall.

  “William, I do think that is overly harsh,” Charlotte said mildly from her armchair.

  John, on the other hand, snorted. “Keep a little money from him? ’Tis nothing to what I would like to do to him! God’s teeth, Pru, to think you were–you should not be kissing anyone!”

  “I can kiss who I like,” Pru said severely, “whether under the mistletoe or not, and it is not the first time!”

  The two brothers glared at Alexander, who clarified immediately, “Not like that–in previous years, it was just a brotherly kiss on the cheek, I can assure you.”

  “But it meant something to me, it always has.” Pru squeezed his hand adoringly. “I knew you would understand one day. I love you, Alexander, and I cannot wait to be your bride.”

  Alexander swallowed. It was all happening too quickly, without any chance to go away and think, calculate exactly what was happening.

  “I have the right to withhold her dowry for a marriage that does not please me until she reaches the age of twenty-five…”

  William’s words echoed in his mind, and despite everything before him, he could not stop thinking about them. No dowry.

  “I knew it,” said John in a jeering tone. “Did I not say he was a miser, William? Look at him, completely rethinking his declaration of love because Pru no longer comes with a convenient purse. He will walk away without the dowry.”

  He laughed, and William joined him in a belittling chuckle that finally pushed Alexander’s temper over the edge.

  “How easily you laugh at the unfortunate!” he snapped, dropping Pru’s hand as he stepped forward, propelled by the fury pouring through his veins. “How easily you can laugh about this–you, who have so much money that twenty thousand pounds would make no difference to you!”

  They were not laughing now, but glaring at his impudence. But Alexander could not stop, not now he had started.

  “I did not have a fortune thrust upon me. I have to work for a living! So forgive me if I have to consider where each and every penny is going because it is sometimes challenging to make ends meet, and I have dependents!”

  His words rang out in the drawing room, and the moment they were out of his mouth, he regretted it. He had promised himself he would not tell a soul, and now almost the entire Lennox family knew his secret.

  Damn and blast. He should never have come here. He should not have thought of his own desires but of their needs.

  “Dependents?” Pru’s voice was quiet, curious, with no judgment.

  Alexander’s heart twisted. It was just one of the many things he loved about her: no judgment, just curiosity. But she had the right to ask that question, and now he would have to answer.

  He sighed, his head finally dropping. “Although an only child, I have a cousin. Had, I should say. He died two years ago, and his wife not soon after. There was no one else who could care for three children, none who would own them. They would have gone to a workhouse if I had not stepped in and taken guardianship.”

  There was silence as they attempted to take in his words.

  It was Charlotte who broke the silence. “Three children?”

  Alexander nodded. “They live with a respectable family near Wells, who have two children of their own. I provide them with a monthly stipend to ensure the Michaels children are cared for. It is…it is challenging, on a single living worth very little, but I manage it. I would rather go without a meal than Thomas, Lily, and Rebecca. But it leaves me…well. In almost constant need of money.”

  He raised his head and found he could not make out the expressions on eith
er brothers’ faces. Was that revulsion, disgust, judgment, curiosity?

  “Marrying without a dowry would not just drag me into destitution, but my wife, also,” he said, his voice gaining strength as his convictions grew. “I would not do that to anyone, but I would certainly not do that to Pru. Better to…better to lose her, my better half, than force her into a life of servitude.”

  Only then did Pru take a step away, and it tore at his very soul.

  He had lost her, then. He had meant every word–the last thing he wanted was for Pru to share in his penury. But losing her, having her forever gone from his side–worse, seeing her one day married to another who could give her a far more comfortable home…

  It sickened him. Yet, no matter how much it sickened him, he would not budge on this principle. Marrying Pru would be a mistake; accustomed to luxury, she would never tolerate privation, never having enough–worse, seeing the small income he did receive immediately disappear to support others, children who were not hers.

  “I do not care about money.” Pru’s voice was quiet. “You think I need jewels and fine carriages to be happy?”

  Alexander blinked. “I know you do not need them, Pru, but you are used to living at a certain standard.”

  “And I tell you, I do not care,” she said, her voice growing in strength. “Life without you–you think I could? You think I could be content here, in what you consider luxury, knowing you were starving?”

  “You would be joined in that frugal supper,” he said softly. “Just enough money to feed me is going to feed two even less.”

  “How many times must I tell you that does not matter to me?” Pru took his hand in hers once again. “Damn you, Alexander, if you think that matters more than you. I love you.”

  Alexander swallowed. This was not how it was supposed to go–he had almost made up his mind to leave that very evening and spend Christmas Day alone in his vicarage.

  “You have to trust me,” she said with a smile. “You have to believe I know my own mind. I believe in you. I believe in us.”

  Gazing into her eyes, he saw the veracity of her words. She was more certain than he had ever been, about anything. It was a certainness he could build on.

  Not taking his eyes away from her, Alexander slowly lowered himself to his knees.

  “No, I will have none of that!” William said hotly.

  Alexander ignored him. “Pru, the last few years, I have treated money like the only thing which could bring me happiness. I have watched it, cared for it, sought it, been desperate for it–and now you have replaced it in my heart. Now I wish to watch you, care for you, seek you out every day, and I am desperate for you. I can…I believe I can leave behind my miserly ways, find new ways of securing income, as long as I have you by my side. Being married to you, being your husband…I would be the richest gentleman in all of England. Will you…will you marry me?”

  “I mean it!” interrupted William before Pru could respond. “No dowry, not a penny from the Lennox family!”

  “Have you not been attending to a single word I have said?” Pru asked her brother scathingly. She turned back to Alexander, and his smile made her whole body shiver. “Yes, Alexander. I will marry you.”

  Without thinking who was watching, he rose quickly and swept her into his arms, kissing her with the same desperation he had felt when they had been under the mistletoe on the veranda.

  Shouts echoed around him, but he could not take them in. He had no wish to. All he wanted, all he had, was Prudence. She was enough.

  When he finally released her, Pru was beaming. “My plan worked, then.”

  Alexander laughed, joy utterly overwhelming him. “Plan? I certainly did not plan any of this!”

  A disgruntled cough made him look around. He said stiffly, “I understand, Your Grace, if you would like me to leave. I can have my belongings packed within half an hour.”

  John cracked his knuckles, but he looked over at William as the head of the household. William, in his turn, looked over at his wife. Charlotte was smiling.

  In that instant, something passed between husband and wife, which Alexander did not precisely understand. No words were spoken, certainly, and neither of them moved. Something, however, certainly occurred.

  How else could one account for what happened next?

  A smile crept across William’s face, and he stepped forward, hand outstretched. “I never thought I would be saying this, but welcome to the family, Alexander Michaels.”

  Alexander accepted the handshake feeling in confusion, as though the floor had shifted under his feet. “The family?”

  “And by the way,” William continued easily, “I was talking absolute rot about the dowry. Of course Pru should have it, ’tis her money. Just had to make sure you were serious about her for the right reasons.”

  Pru laughed as John said in surprise, “What, you were joking?”

  William dropped Alexander’s hand as he replied, “Well, perhaps not at first. But I know true love when I see it, especially at Christmas. Why not be happy? Why not allow happiness into the family?”

  “Th-Thank you, Your Grace,” Alexander stammered, falling back onto formalities in his surprise.

  He then did what he knew must be done, even though he was unsure how the action would be received. He offered his hand to John.

  The younger brother hesitated for a moment, and then pulled down his sleeves before shaking it. “I will still be keeping an eye on you, Michaels. Just to make sure your obsession with money does not return. I would hate for you to be in my bad books.”

  “You just want an excuse to visit Bath, and Miss Darby,” teased Pru.

  Alexander had no idea who Miss Darby was, but evidently, John did, for he colored slightly. “Nonsense. ’Tis just important to me that your husband does not love wealth more than you.”

  “I do not think that will ever be possible,” said Alexander, pulling Pru to his side.

  She was smiling as she had never smiled before. “And the children must come to us–they should be with family. And we will have mistletoe in our home, all year round!”

  Charlotte laughed as she rose to greet the happy couple. “All year? Always?”

  “Of course,” Alexander said, beaming. “It will be there to remind us of how, one Christmas, we were finally able to find each other under the mistletoe.”

  Additional Dragonblade books by Author Emily E K Murdoch

  Never The Bride Series

  Always the Bridesmaid (Book 1)

  Always the Chaperone (Book 2)

  Always the Courtesan (Book 3)

  Always the Best Friend (Book 4)

  Always the Wallflower (Book 5)

  Always the Bluestocking (Book 6)

  Always the Rival (Book 7)

  About Emily E K Murdoch

  If you love falling in love, then you’ve come to the right place.

  I am a historian and writer and have a varied career to date: from examining medieval manuscripts to designing museum exhibitions, to working as a researcher for the BBC to working for the National Trust.

  My books range from England 1050 to Texas 1848, and I can’t wait for you to fall in love with my heroes and heroines!

  Follow me on twitter and instagram @emilyekmurdoch, find me on facebook at facebook.com/theemilyekmurdoch, and read my blog at www.emilyekmurdoch.com.

  A Libertine’s Christmas Miracle

  Emily Royal

  Dedication

  for Twinkle

  Chapter One

  Boscarne House, Cornwall, 22 December 1825

  “Edward, Edward!”

  The wind howled outside, forming the shape of words, a shrill cry echoing his name in the night air.

  Edward!

  He sat bolt upright, his heart hammering in unison with the rattling of the window frame.

  She was outside again—lost, and alone. Calling for him, like she had when she’d been alive.

  He leapt out of bed and crossed the floor. Cold fin
gers fumbled with the latch, then the window blew open, exposing him to the maelstrom outside. Snow swirled into the bedchamber, and he reached into the night.

  “Isabella!” he cried.

  Isabella!

  His voice echoed in the darkness, a mockery of his despair. Then the wind caught the window, and it slammed shut with a splintering of glass. Pain sliced into his finger, anchoring him to the real world. He shook his head to dispel the nightmare which plagued him almost every time he closed his eyes.

  His Isabella. She tore at his conscience during the day, and haunted his dreams at night.

  He had forsaken her when she needed him, dismissing her pleas for help as those of any female in her confinement. And for what? For the sake of a few coins. But what good were material possessions compared to the woman he’d loved? What good was wealth to a man when it couldn’t be used to bring her back? Neither could he take it with him to the grave.

  But, it was all he had left, now.

  He drew the curtains then returned to his bed, sucking the fingertip which he’d cut on the glass. The nightmare tonight had been more vivid than all the others. And he knew why. Today was the first time he’d glimpsed Isabella during the day, her slight frame and golden hair bouncing in little ringlets which he’d loved running his fingers through. He’d seen her walking along the lane at the foot of the drive to Boscarne House, heavy with child. Alongside her was the figure of a little girl, clutching her hand. Though he’d rubbed his eyes and tried to convince himself they were figments of his imagination, the two figures remained visible until they turned the corner at the end of the lane and headed toward the neighboring estate of Pengarron.

  Isabella was the ghost of his past—the woman he’d loved and lost three years ago. But who was the little girl? Was she the ghost of the future—the child he might have had, if Isabella had not died?

 

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