Christmas Bequest

by Barbara Miller

  “But I don’t think I will ever look on Christmas the same again. I mean it. It was always the holiday I looked forward to the most. Now it’s empty and I just want to get past it.”

  He pulled her into an embrace to comfort her as he had often done in the past. “Just because you are low now doesn’t mean you will be so forever.”

  “You can’t know that, Stuart.”

  “Sometimes I think I don’t know anything… Have you given any more thought to us?” He said it with a hopeless laugh as though it were a joke.

  “I’ve thought of little else since you returned, but I can’t leave here just now and marriage is out of the question. We are all still fresh in our grief.”

  “But by spring?” He looked down at her but her face was turned away and her sigh told him nothing. At least she had not given him a patent refusal. He knew he should not press her, yet he wanted so much to mend what had been broken in her.

  Then she lifted her face to him, the brave tears glistening unwept in her eyes. “You would think I’d want to escape, but even though Lucinda can be trying, I’m not sure I can in good conscience abandon her to those parents.”

  He blinked in surprise. “Surely they won’t stay here.”

  “Your friendly spies have been remiss in conveying intelligence. Mr. Thurston said something about giving up the townhouse.”

  Anger welled up in him at this further insult and interruption of his plans. “We’ll see about that. If you married me, we’d be right next door.”

  “I know. I just have this notion I’d be deserting my post.”

  “I now regret all those descriptions of battles I sent you. You’ve picked up the language.”

  “I too have been fighting in a war.” She took his arm as he led her back to the main part of the house.

  “I finally understand that.”

  * * * * *

  The dinner was an extravagance, from the lamb roast and baked hens to the trifle at the end. She sighed over the fruit and nuts. Patience had indulged herself and was feeling strangely numb and lethargic.

  Uncle Percy, who had arrived at dusk, had been unbearably cheerful all through the meal, contrasting so sharply with the mood of everyone else that his comments frequently went unanswered. Patience realized now that she usually bore the burden of conversing with him until her Uncle William arrived.

  It was her mother who should field Percy’s inane comments about the food, the weather, the wine, the roads, the cheese and whatever gossip he could recall. It was her mother who had invited him. Now that she thought about it, that was presumptuous since this estate now belonged to Lucinda and little James.

  Her sister-in-law sat beside her, pale and drained. It was a relief to all when Lucinda finally said, “Ladies, shall we leave the men to their port?”

  Patience pushed her own chair back and smiled at Stuart, who had come to slide out Lucinda’s. The woman’s voice had been strong and resigned. That was a plus but it made Patience worry about what would happen next. Lucinda had always wilted in the presence of her parents, turned back into a child. This was a different person altogether and Patience could not help but realize there was to be a scene.

  As they moved into the drawing room and the older ladies were deciding who should sit closest to the fire, Lucinda stopped Patience in the doorway and thrust a letter at her. “This was in Jack’s trunk. It was addressed to Stuart but I opened it and I’m glad I did.”

  “Jack’s last words to anyone.” She took the paper reverently. “Stuart won’t care that you opened it if it was some comfort to you. You were right to open it.”

  Lucinda stared at the document. “It was both a blow and a comfort. Give it to him.”

  Stuart was crossing the hall when Lucinda finally went to sit by her mother on the sofa, and Patience detained him. “This was in the trunk.”

  He took it with a frown. “I had no idea. I never even looked in the trunk.” He carried it to the single candle on the hall table and scanned the paper. “Poor lady. She opened this alone. I could have spared her that.”

  Patience studied his face for some sign. “What does it say that is so awful?”

  “Exactly what Jack confessed to me. Lucinda drove him away.”

  “Oh, poor girl.” Patience glanced toward the drawing room. “Yet she seems so resigned.”

  “It also says that he regrets leaving her and he recalls now how much he loves her. He asks me to take care of her and his son and to send them all his love should anything happen to him.”

  “So he didn’t mean to surprise you with the bequest. He meant for you to know.”

  “Yes, he speaks quite romantically at the end. ‘We may die but love does not. It’s a force stronger than any of us.’”

  Patience could not stop the tears clouding her vision and she leaned against Stuart. “Do you suppose he can be right?”

  “I hope so.” He put his free arm around her.

  She felt the tenderness in his embrace and realized he had not given up on her, that he was prepared to wait for her to heal somehow from this awful tragedy.

  “What is this touching scene all about?” Thurston asked when he crossed the hall. “Forget the port. Are you coming, Stuart? Time to get this out on the table.”

  Stuart let go of Patience and turned to him. “So you plan to further upset your daughter by staging an argument in front of her? I refuse to do so. If you have anything to say to me, it will be man-to-man in the office, not in a place where you will hurt her more than she has already been hurt.”

  “How dare you lecture me about the care of my daughter?”

  “What are you two doing out here?” Mrs. Thurston came to the door to ask.

  “I demand to see the will,” Thurston shouted. “I demand the right to take care of my daughter.”

  “I have been charged with that task.”

  “We’ll see about that.”

  “No you won’t, Father.” They all turned and looked at Lucinda standing pale but calmly in the doorway. “I have changed my mind. Jack trusted Stuart with our affairs and I have decided to trust him as well.”

  “But I could handle things for you, or your brother could.”

  “Absolutely not.”

  “But I have already offered Samuel the running of the place.”

  “Have you now? Well, you misspoke and you will have to tell him so if he ever gets here. Clearly family is not all that important to him. Now if you all come into the drawing room, I have rung for tea. I want to make an early night of it since there is much to do tomorrow.”

  Patience stared at Stuart and then back at Lucinda. She was finally acting like the mistress of the house.

  After her parents did as she asked, Lucinda licked her lips and addressed Patience and Stuart. “I ask that tomorrow morning you instruct me, both of you, in what duties should be mine here and what I must know to work with young Wharton.”

  “Gladly,” Stuart said.

  Patience nodded and smiled. Lucinda was still nervous but her clasped hands were decisive and not shaking.

  “It isn’t that I mean to displace you, Patience, but Jack said it best. By leaving and drawing Stuart away with him, he destroyed your chances of a happy life and chained you to this place. If you wish to stay, you and your mother, I shall be glad of the company. But if you and Stuart still have a future together, I counsel you to grasp it.”

  Lucinda went back into the drawing room then and they heard her speaking sternly to someone, presumably her father.

  Patience swallowed at this revelation and looked up at Stuart, who was sweating. “You didn’t tell me all that was in the letter.”

  “I didn’t want to hurt you. Here, read it for yourself. Jack says he and I both made a terrible mistake. I knew it long before he did.”

  She took the letter back, almost afraid to look at it. “I never realized Jack thought very deeply about anything.”

  “Men keep it all inside, especially our mistakes. I had not meant to
abandon you as he did. I truly thought it would all be over in a season.” He looked away, staring at something in the past, whatever hell the war had made of his life. Her trials were nothing to his and Jack’s.

  “Being human means making mistakes. I have done my share.” She reached for his hand and he gave it to her with a puzzled expression touched with relief. “I will read the letter later. Shall we go in with the others and enjoy this new turn of events?”

  Chapter Four

  Early the next morning, Stuart had tea brought to the office along with some pastries so he and Patience could go over the plans for the estate with Lucinda in comfort and privacy. She seemed an able student.

  “I recall how much profit we had from the succession house, even if we only traded the fruits and vegetables for other things we needed.” Lucinda smiled. “Wonderful idea to get it going again. And you really think the high fields can grow grain?”

  “They are drier,” Stuart said. “The sheep can be pastured closer to the house but the cattle should be sold. It takes too long to raise them.”

  “And the coal,” Patience prompted. “Tell her about the coal.”

  “Yes, there is a seam of coal under the hill. I’m sure it must run through to Heatherfield. It could supply heating coal to the estate and save the woodlot further destruction.”

  Stuart noticed that Patience was actually looking cheerful by the time young Wharton arrived. So they left him to go over the books with Lucinda.

  “She’s like a different person,” Patience said as they put on their cloaks to take a short walk about the frozen rose garden.

  “Yes, I think I realize what Jack saw in her—a certain strength. You have it as well.”

  “And I don’t even need it anymore.” She walked ahead of him down the frosty path. “Everything seems to be solved. I begin to imagine myself lighter, as though not so much is tying me down.”

  “What about us? Will you consider reaching for our future?”

  She put out her hand and plucked a frost-dried rose that had once been pink. “I am still having trouble letting go of the past. Recall how happy the three of us were. You, Jack and me as we roamed the estates. I keep expecting to see him again.” She choked out this last with a sob and looked around as though Jack’s ghost would loom out of the foggy shrubbery.

  “You’re not ready yet.” Stuart put an arm of comfort around her shoulders, knowing he would have to be patient a while longer.

  “But I’m no longer facing a black wall of despair. I can see past this dark season and on toward spring. Perhaps once we have the plants growing again in the succession house, I will have enough hope to leave here.”

  “Spring is not so far away. I should be able to wait but I have this premonition of events outrunning us. That if I don’t act soon, something terrible will happen to prevent our happiness.”

  She looked up at him and shook her head. “Something terrible has already happened.”

  When the hope died out of his eyes, she thought he finally understood her reluctance to be happy. Being optimistic was not something you could control. In fact it was safer to stay sad since that could not be taken from you. As she had feared, she’d dragged Stuart down with her despair.

  Stuart nodded and guided her back inside.

  “Still no Samuel. Where is that damn boy?” Mr. Thurston stomped through the hall. “We’ll see what you have to say when he arrives. How dare Percy Muldoon assume he would be called upon to manage this estate? It’s ridiculous.”

  “On that we can agree,” Stuart said. “Where is Percy?”

  “In the morning room with his sister.”

  “Let me,” Patience said. She was so proud of Lucinda’s conquest of her parents that she was determined to bring her relatives back into line.

  She handed her cloak and gloves to Stuart, strode to the morning room and slammed the door behind her, rousing both Percy and her mother to jump at the noise. As usual her mother was closest to the fire, blocking the heat, and Uncle Percy sat on the sofa with his hands folded over his ample stomach.

  “What right have either of you to assume you could do as you wish with this estate?” Patience demanded.

  “Someone other than Stuart must take charge,” her mother said. “Stuart has his own place and will neglect this one.”

  “This is a change of tune. You should know better than to listen to Uncle Percy. It is a matter of law that Jack appointed his executor. You will kindly stop interfering in this household.”

  “But this is our home. I invited Percy to live here with us.”

  “Absolutely not.” Patience folded her arms. “Beyond the small bequest Jack left each of us, we own no part of Heatherfield and may not dispose of any of its income nor invite any guests. I hope I make myself clear.”

  “Here now,” Percy complained, struggling to his feet. “You shouldn’t be talking to your elders like that.”

  “Must I use smaller words so that you will understand? You have no right, either of you, to interfere here.”

  “Why, you sound as though you are siding with Lucinda.” Her mother stared at Patience then looked suspicious. “What has she promised you?”

  “That does it. I am on the side of right and I am not promised anything, but will fend for myself.”

  “Are you saying we are to be put out of our own home?” Her mother drew out a handkerchief, her signal that tears were a threat.

  “No, for it is not your home. But it wouldn’t hurt to be nicer to Lucy, for she has invited us to stay. You and me, not Percy.” She slammed the door on her way out as well.

  Stuart was leaning on the hall table, quietly clapping his hands. “You sounded decisive and magnificent.”

  “I was angry and it was liberating. Is there anyone else I can shout at?”

  “Practice on me. I like to hear you rant.” He looked young again as he slouched and smiled. But for his red coat, she could almost imagine the whole war had not happened and that they had been arguing some point of farming or horse care.

  How could three years seem like a lifetime? She closed her eyes to suppress the tears and smiled up at him when she managed it. “You’ve had too many peals rung over you as it is. All you are trying to do is help.”

  “But it looks as though my task may be more doable than I had expected. Lucinda’s recent joining of our ranks doesn’t outnumber the enemy but the odds are better.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Now you have me doing it.”

  “How else would a soldier talk? And the battle is not over yet, not until we send the enemy packing.” In her exuberance, she hugged Stuart. He was slow to return the embrace. Possibly because he did not know what hers meant. His hug, when it came, was warm but that of a friend. Had she pushed him away so that he was more uncertain of her love than she was?

  She stepped back and looked into his troubled gaze and realized she was the cause. She wanted to see him full of laughter and excitement as he had always been, at Christmas especially.

  Something she thought had died suddenly awakened in her heart. Patience finally realized she wanted more than friendship from Stuart. She wanted them together as they had been, poised on the brink of a joyful future.

  She stood on tiptoe to reach his lips and kissed him, surprising a sigh of relief from him. He encircled her in a warm embrace that promised he would never let go. She wondered how such a simple act seemed as though she had reached across a chasm to him and he had pulled her from certain destruction. No matter what happened now there was no longer that awful distance between them. They were stronger because they were together again.

  * * * * *

  The next day, the excellent luncheon and dinner came and went without the unwelcome appearance of Lucinda’s brother Samuel. Patience wished her Uncle William was able to come earlier for the holiday. The family behaved better with the gentle clergyman among them and he gave her a sense of comfort she had trouble reaching on her own.

  They finally called for the coach to ta
ke them to the Christmas Eve service but they were shy of Percy and Patience’s mother, who were pouting in the drawing room. That’s when Samuel arrived. He was bosky and had to be helped to the door by the coachman driving the hired vehicle. His parents went back inside with him but Lucinda shook her head and got in the carriage with her son.

  “I suppose they will be plotting my overthrow while we are singing and praying,” she said.

  Patience smiled at Lucinda and stroked Jamie’s cheek. “Let’s let them enjoy themselves tonight, Lucy.”

  “Yes,” said Stuart, “you can squash their pretentions in the morning.”

  “I’m sorry now I wrote to them. I thought they would be some comfort to me but they don’t care about Jack. All they speak of is money.”

  “Jack was my papa,” James said.

  Lucinda kissed his forehead. “Yes, dear. A very brave man.”

  “Let’s think about Jack for the next hour or so and what happy Christmases we did have.” Patience glanced at Stuart when she said this and he smiled back at her.

  It was odd, as though a cloud was lifting from her soul and she was able to breathe again. She remembered what Jack had said in the letter she still had pressed in her reticule. He thought he had ruined her life by drawing Stuart away from her. And all this time she had been dying of guilt for ranting at Jack about leaving her in charge. That was before they knew Lucinda was pregnant. If only he had known, he might have stayed. He might still be alive.

  * * * * *

  When they left the church, the music still ringing in their heads and hearts, the fog had finally cleared and Patience could see the stars and moon.

  “Is it as lovely as you remember?” Stuart asked.

  “Yes, diamonds on black velvet.”

  She saw Lucinda struggling with James, who was half asleep, and they went back for them. Stuart lifted the child onto his shoulder like a sleepy lamb and she took Lucy’s arm as though she had found a sister in her.

  Stuart was good with James whenever the boy was allowed away from his nursery maid. Stuart would make a good father figure for James. He would make a good father for his own children. So why was she holding back from him? Now that she was feeling some joy in the music, she wondered if the blue devils had left her.