Annabel's Christmas Surprise/Regency Romp 2

by Sole, Linda

  A smile touched his mouth and he looked about him, feeling much better now that he was riding through pleasant countryside, away from the dark memories associated with his old home. It was a frosty day, icicles still hanging on the branches of trees and the roof of a picturesque barn, and he felt at one with the world. A man could not mourn his family forever, and many more deaths had blunted those old ones – friends felled by the enemy, and one such good friend dying in his arms of a terrible wound, and then Sir Freddie’s tragic tale. Robert had endured hard winters and blistering hot summers, ill-cooked food, fear, danger and sickness, and come through it he hoped a better man. He was a man of honour, a man to whom a promise made was sacrosanct.

  He saw a fox, its coat bright red as it darted away across the fields in front of him, and heard the clear high song of a robin, followed by the twittering of finches. England in winter was a veritable wonderland despite the bitter cold that nipped at his nose.

  He was but a few miles from Sir Geoffrey’s house now, and if he were not mistaken, there was a shortcut across a neighbour’s land just ahead…

  Annabel stood by the lake, feeding tiny pieces of the croissant she’d kept from her breakfast to the swans. They had skimmed across the surface of the lake in haste as soon as they saw her and were quick to scare off a parcel of noisy ducks, who tried to steal the titbits from under their beaks. She laughed to see them as they reared up and opened their wings, snatching back a piece that one duck had almost snaffled. How regal they were, such a joy to watch. She had also some pieces of plain roll, which she threw for the ducks a little further into the lake. They scrambled after it, squawking while the swans remained to feast on the croissant.

  It was such a lovely day despite the cold, the sunlight making the lake’s water sparkle like diamonds, the sky overhead a blue that rivalled the turquoise of her new scarf.

  Her bounty finished, the swans looked hopefully for more before moving gracefully away. Annabel stood for a moment, her hands tucked inside her luxurious muff before turning back the way she’d come.

  She ought to go back before she was missed. The family would be rising soon. They had no guests themselves this year for they were to drive to Sir Geoffrey’s house and would arrive for tea and then dinner. They had been invited to stay overnight and would return home the next day, thereby giving their servants the chance for a well-earned rest – and a celebration of their own. In the New Year the family would entertain several guests and later, perhaps in March or early April, Annabel and Mary were to have a Season in London.

  It had been planned that Lydia and Jane would accompany them, but they both had weddings planned for the end of January, and were to be taken to London by Lady Harlow to buy their trousseaus soon after Christmas. Annabel sighed again as she thought of how fortunately the future had turned out for their cousins. She had been feeling a little sorry for them, wondering how they would go on unless husbands could be found for them, and now they were both to be married.

  It was most unexpected, but Annabel’s father had been delighted to agree to the match in both cases, though Jane’s husband was not particularly rich. However, it seemed that Lydia’s husband was to take him in partnership in a business and the future would no doubt be bright for them all.

  Walking with her head down, Annabel was not at first aware of the rider coming towards her. It was not until he gave a warning shout that she looked up and stood still for she could see that he would otherwise have passed close to her.

  ‘Forgive me,’ he said and swept off his hat. ‘I did not immediately see you for I was lost in my thoughts and when my eye caught you, feared we might collide before I could bring this brute of mine to a standstill. He is still restive and once I let him have his head I do not normally pull him up unless forced, for he will take any hedge or gate in his stride.’

  ‘Sir…’ Annabel was breathless as she stared up at him. ‘I was as much at fault for I too was lost in…’ Her eyes widened. Was it he of whom she had thought so often? His hair, eyes, nose, mouth…but there were lines about his eyes and he looked much older than a mere four years ought to add, a streak of grey through his hair revealed as he swept off his hat. ‘Sir, it is…Mr Robert Goss?’

  He too was staring and frowned as he answered, ‘I am Major Goss now – I think I am right, Miss Annabel? You have changed much, become a fine young lady.’

  ‘Have I?’ she asked, breath catching in her throat. She felt her chest constrict for she did not know what to say. ‘I…you have changed too, sir. I think that perhaps you have seen a great deal of action in the war?’

  ‘Yes, a deal,’ he said and dismounted. He came towards her, offering his hand. ‘You are well? I did not know…I thought you might have married…?’

  Her cheeks flushed and she glanced down at the shiny toe of her black patent boots. ‘I have been in mourning these past months for my aunt. I should otherwise have been out this spring…’

  ‘Ah, I see.’ He smiled down at her from his superior height. ‘I am sorry for your loss.’

  ‘We lost Mama some years ago. However, I have decided that I shall not think of such things. It is Christmas and we are celebrating by visiting my uncle, Sir Geoffrey Harlow this evening.’

  ‘Indeed? I am on my way to join him even now,’ Robert said and leading his horse loosely by the rein fell in beside her. ‘It is a happy chance that I shall see you this evening. I had no expectation of it when I took a short cut across your father’s land and planned to call tomorrow.’ His eyes went over her. ‘May I say you look very pretty, charming – and that muff is quite outrageous large.’

  ‘Yes, it is,’ Annabel replied with a laugh. ‘Indeed, I am quite spoiled, sir. So many gifts and I do not even know who sent me this one, though I suspect my father for he gives me far more than is good for me.’

  Robert smiled, considering a moment before he said, ‘I do not think you spoiled, Miss Annabel. I dare say you will be considered as a breath of spring when you are in Town for your come-out.’

  ‘Do you mean to tell me that I still talk too much?’ she asked and her dimples peeped. ‘I confess my sister is forever telling me that I shall never catch a husband if I do not learn to watch my tongue. Mary says that gentlemen like a little peace in their own homes – and Papa runs off to his library and shuts himself off with his books if I plague him too much. I know it is a fault, but I cannot help myself.’

  ‘I do not dislike it in you,’ Robert said and laughed softly.

  Annabel looked at him in surprise. She did not think she had heard him laugh so joyously. He seemed to be freer in his manner than when they last met and there was something very manly in his bearing, though she thought still some shadows in his eyes. His time in the Army had aged him, but he had no scars that showed and seemed no worse for it.

  ‘Are you back for good now, sir?’ she asked, her heart racing.

  ‘I have not yet sold out, but I intend it,’ he said. ‘I have not yet made up my mind where I shall settle. Goss Hall has been let for a number of years and needs a great deal of renovation if I were to settle there. I should also need to purchase more land, for there is not enough left to support it and a family.’

  Annabel swallowed hard, feeling as if a lump had stuck in her chest. ‘Are you to be married soon, Major Goss?’

  ‘That is another thing undecided,’ he said frankly. ‘I had thought I knew my own mind, but something that happened recently has made me pause for thought.’

  He was in love. Annabel’s heart plummeted. Of course such a handsome distinguished soldier would find plenty of beautiful young ladies who would be happy to wed him. Had he been in the slightest interested in her, he would surely have written to her at least once in all these years.

  ‘Then I shall not wish you happy just yet – but I do wish you happiness in whatever you choose to do.’

  They had by this time reached the approach to the house and she hesitated, considering. However, her sister and father would be preparing
to leave for her uncle’s house soon and would not appreciate company at the plain nuncheon they planned before they left. She held out one small, gloved hand.

  ‘I dare say I shall see you this evening, sir.’

  ‘Yes, almost certainly,’ he said and bowed. ‘I shall look forward to it.’

  Annabel smiled and watched as he mounted his horse. She nodded as he touched his hat and then rode away. She swallowed hard, lifting her head as she told herself not to be foolish. It was natural that he should be considering marriage to a fortunate lady, the only wonder that he had not married long ago.

  She had been a young girl, still a child really, when he’d visited with her uncle. Why should he have remembered their walk to the lake?

  She was very foolish for having cherished the memory and would put it from her mind at once.

  ‘You look frozen, so pale,’ Mary chided as she went into the house. ‘Come to the fire, my love, and warm yourself. Whatever made you walk so far on a morning like this? You should have been resting for we shall be late abed tonight.’

  ‘I shall not be tired,’ Annabel assured her and smiled. ‘Thank you so much for my beautiful scarf, Mary. It will go very well with my new gown that Papa bought me. Indeed, I feel so spoiled – just look at this muff. There was no card with it but I dare say Papa bought it for me.’

  ‘I do not think so, for he consulted with me about the gown – and he also gave you the gold posy holder. He said we might buy ourselves plenty of trinkets when we go up to Town in the spring.’ She frowned. ‘’Tis odd that you should have a gift without a card delivered for I also have such a thing – mine is a large fan with ivory sticks and ostrich feathers.’

  ‘Oh, how odd. It sounds magnificent?’

  ‘Yes, though not truly to my taste for I am not given to ostentation.’

  ‘No, whoever bought it could not know you well, Mary – though my muff is exactly what I would choose. Who could have sent it and your fan?’

  ‘It is very strange. Are you sure there was no card inside? I looked but thought I must have mislaid it with the wrappings.’

  ‘Only my name upon the tissue – Miss Annabel Savage, and delivered from a London emporium. It must be one of our aunts or uncles on Mama’s side.’

  ‘Yes, I dare say. Aunt Miriam was in London just last month. Perhaps she sent both of them.’

  ‘Well, we shall see her in the New Year,’ Annabel said. ‘I should wish to thank whoever sent the muff to me, but I thought it must have been Papa.’

  ‘I do not think it,’ Mary stroked the beautiful grey fur. ‘It is certainly very smart and I envy you a little, though I have a velvet muff myself, which Uncle Geoffrey sent to me.’

  ‘Then perhaps he sent me mine,’ Annabel said. ‘I am so looking forward to this evening. It will be a merry party for Lydia and Jane are on top of the world – and with good reason.’

  ‘Yes, indeed, most fortunate,’ Mary agreed. ‘I think we shall miss them after Christmas for they both go to London to stay with Lady Harlow to shop for their bride clothes.’

  ‘Could we not go with them?’

  ‘No, I do not think Papa would wish it, dearest. He is very good to have arranged to take a house in London for several weeks. We must not put him to more expense.’

  ‘No…’ Annabel sighed. ‘I know I am too impatient, Mary. We have guests to entertain and then the weddings…the time will go fast enough I dare say.’

  ‘We must have some new gowns made before we go, though most will be made when we get there,’ Mary said. ‘I am looking forward to it as much as you are, Annabel – but we must be patient. I believe we are fortunate. My friend Suzy Makepeace is not to have a season at all for her father has lost too much money at the tables this year and she will have to wait.’

  ‘That is awful,’ Annabel said. ‘I like Suzy and I feel for her disappointment.’ She hesitated, then, ‘Do you think that Papa…could she not come with us instead of our cousins?’

  ‘Papa has most of the expense of their weddings,’ Mary said, ‘Though I think Lydia’s husband is insisting on paying for much of her wedding. I could ask Papa – though I ought to consult with Suzy first.’

  ‘Oh yes, you must. I suppose you will not see her until the day after tomorrow?’

  ‘Suzy and her family dine with us in two days. I can ask her then,’ Mary said. ‘Now, we must not keep Papa waiting for nuncheon. Has Janet packed your dress for this evening?’

  ‘I told her I should wear my new one – and she will have put up a choice for me to wear tomorrow. I do not have to tell her, she is very good.’

  ‘Yes, I know. Lydia likes her, for she has helped her dress several times. I think she would like to take her with her when she marries, but I was sure you would wish to keep her.’

  ‘I should not let her go,’ Annabel said. ‘Lydia must find her own maid. I dare say her husband will employ a French maid or some such thing…he is fabulously rich I think.’

  ‘Yes, he is,’ Mary said. ‘She has been fortunate – and to think it was all due to her being stopped by him when she was on her way to distribute the Christmas gifts…’

  ‘Yes,’ Annabel nodded. ‘It might have been you, Mary…’

  ‘Or you,’ her sister said and frowned. ‘You are not sulking over it I hope? You seem quiet…’

  ‘No, I wish only for her happiness,’ Annabel assured her. ‘I have something on my mind that is all…’

  She was thoughtful as she followed her sister into the small dining parlour, where she found her cousins already helping themselves to the cold collation. Her father was cutting a cold capon and looked at them as they entered.

  ‘I had begun to think you lost,’ he said. ‘Fill your plates but do not eat too much for you will offend your aunt Harlow if you do not do justice to her dinner tonight.’

  ‘I am hungry,’ Annabel said and sat down next to Lydia. Her cousin’s ring sparkled and she looked at it. ‘Your ring is beautiful, cousin.’

  ‘Yes. I am so happy,’ Lydia replied. ‘It all happened so quickly that I am quite in a flutter and hardly know what I am about. It has not truly sunk in yet for it was only yesterday that he asked me…’

  ‘If you cannot believe your good fortune no more can I,’ Jane said and looked shy. ‘I never thought this day would come.’ She glanced down at her ring, which was a simple band of gold with a cabochon ruby. It was not as eye-catching as Lydia’s but she would not have cared if it had been made of string. ‘This belonged to Michael’s grandmother. He says he shall buy me a new one when he can afford it, but truly I love this…’

  ‘It is lovely,’ Mary said. ‘You have both been fortunate. I am happy for both of you – are your future husbands to join us this evening?’

  ‘Your uncle has been kind enough to invite them,’ Jane said. ‘His daughters are too young to have beaux yet, for they are no more than thirteen and fourteen – but Sir Geoffrey says he likes to see the young ones happy and swears that he would invite all his neighbours if he though they would come.’

  ‘Geoffrey is a generous man,’ Lord Savage said good-humouredly. ‘So I shall soon be losing the pleasure of your company, Lydia and Jane. Well, well, I shall be sorry for it because I like to see your pretty faces, but I am happy that you will both be settled. My poor brother would have been very glad of it I am sure.’

  ‘Papa would have been grateful to you, sir,’ Jane said. ‘Had you not given us a home with you I think it would not have happened. We should have been forced to earn a living somewhere.’

  ‘I could not have stood by and seen it,’ her uncle declared. ‘Now, was everyone happy with their gifts?’

  A chorus of voices chirped their thanks and he beamed with pleasure, looking about him with satisfaction. He thought his nieces might well thank him for his goodness when he had daughters of his own to see off, but he did not congratulate himself more than twice a day for having brought off such splendid matches. Now, if he could just do the same for his own girls he would
be a contented man.

  * * *

  After nuncheon the girls changed their gowns for something suitable for a carriage drive and in less than an hour and a half they were all ready to set off. The mist had come down a little during the afternoon, the morning sunshine having disappeared. Sir Geoffrey remarked that he was glad they should not have to return late that night and, giving up the comfort of his coach to the four girls and their dresses, he rode a little ahead of them, well wrapped up in a greatcoat and muffler.

  Despite some misgivings on the part of their coachman, the journey was without incident and they arrived in time to be welcomed in with promises of a sumptuous tea beside the drawing room fire.

  Several guests had already arrived and were seated in the large room talking. A flurry of greetings were exchanged and the girls were drawn close to the fire, three gentlemen getting up to allow them to take their seats. Annabel looked about her eagerly, a little disappointed to discover that there was no sign of Major Goss. However, he came in a moment or two later carrying a large bunch of mistletoe, which he had gone to gather, having spied it earlier on his way there.

  ‘Ah, here he is,’ Sir Geoffrey cried. ‘I had forgot the mistletoe and we can’t have Christmas without it, can we, gentlemen? I charge you to put it up all over the house so that we may catch the ladies unawares and steal a kiss.’

  Much laughter greeted this sally and the ladies blushed, looking about the company, as if deciding which gentlemen to allow to catch them beneath the mistletoe.

  Tea was being served when a newcomer was announced and the Savage family looked up in surprise.

  ‘Mr Charles Savage,’ the butler announced, ‘And Mr Gerald Harlow.’

  ‘Good grief, Cousin Charles,’ Lord Savage said astounded and stood up, going over to offer his hand. ‘What do you do here? I was sorry to learn of your father’s death. I should have come to the funeral but I had my own troubles…’

  ‘Yes, of course, my mother understood,’ Charles said and shook the hand offered, though Annabel thought the smile did not reach his eyes, as if he had in truth been mightily offended by the omission.