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Timeless Christmas Romance

Page 14

by Laurel O'Donnell et al.


  She was a beautiful woman. When he’d kissed her earlier, he’d been too lost in his thoughts to even notice the way her blue eyes lit up when she was around him or the way her lips curved in a half-smile like a little bow. In the light of the torches lining the path to the garden, her long, dark braid that hung over one shoulder glittered with the snowflakes landing upon it.

  “Alexander, what are you doing out here?” Her voice was soft and light like the song of a fragile bird. But this woman wasn’t frail. He could tell that. She held the confidence of a queen and kept her spine erect, and her chin raised slightly. As he drank in her elegance, he realized she was out in the elements without a covering.

  “Where is your cloak?” he asked, reaching out and brushing snow from her hair. He noticed the way her eyes closed slightly when he touched her. Her chest raised and dropped as she breathed heavier.

  “I saw you leaving and rushed out here, not taking the time to gather my cloak.”

  “Then you shall have mine to keep you warm.” He started to remove his cloak, but her hand shot out and stopped him.

  “Nay. I felt your hand earlier and know how cold you must be. I couldn’t take your cloak from you.”

  “Then we’ll share it,” he said, lifting his arm, inviting her in.

  Her lips turned up into a slight smile. She stepped forward to be enclosed by his cape as well. Having her body pressed up against him was his undoing. He bent over slightly, rubbing his cheek against her soft hair. It felt good, and he liked it. Then he realized that one kiss from Lady Charlotte Ashworth was not going to be enough. He had to kiss her again.

  She looked up at him just as he had this thought. Their faces were so close that he could see the tiny snowflakes landing on her lashes. He reached out and touched her cold cheek brushing away a snowflake with his thumb. “Are you warmer now?” he asked her.

  “I am. Thank you.” Her gaze fell to his mouth. Lifting her chin with his hand, he waited a second. When she didn’t pull away, he took that as his signal to kiss her once again. The touch of her lips against his felt like fire, warming him down to his toes.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I felt that if I didn’t kiss your sweet lips again, I would go to my grave wishing I had experienced it just once more.”

  “Grave,” she repeated, looking down at the grave and making Alex wish he had chosen his words more carefully. “Why are you here at the gravesite of Lady Summer’s stillborn?”

  How could he answer? His was a secret that if proven to be true would change the lives of many people. It might be something he had to take to his grave after all. “I saw the candle burning through the snow and wondered what it was, that’s all.”

  “I hear Lady Summer has not missed a day of paying respect to her son. In the summer, she brings flowers. And in the winter, she lights candles, praying for the newborn’s soul to go to heaven since he never had a chance to live.”

  Alex’s eyes swept over to the grave. He found himself wondering if there really was a baby buried there. Hadn’t his father told him to dig up the grave if he didn’t believe him? If so, would he find bones or just an empty wooden box? Alex shook his head, willing the ill thought to leave. Surely, his soul would go straight to hell for even having such an idea as digging up the corpse of an innocent child.

  “I’ll walk you back to the keep, and then I am going to find a spot in the hay and sleep in the stable tonight,” he told Charlotte.

  “Nay, don’t do that. It is much too cold. Come dance with me instead, and sleep by the fire in the great hall.”

  “I don’t dance,” he explained.

  “Why not?”

  From the corner of his eye, Alex saw Lord Dreyfis approaching.

  “He’s lame,” said Dreyfis. “Of course, he can’t dance. But I have two good legs. I’ll dance with you, my lady.” He stepped up and took Charlotte’s arm, pulling her out from under Alex’s cloak. Charlotte looked back to Alex with wide, frantic eyes.

  It was Christmas, and as much as Alex wanted to draw his sword and strike Sir Dreyfis for taking Charlotte away from him, he decided not to cause trouble. He didn’t want to fight after Lady Summer welcomed him to her castle with open arms. Nay, it wouldn’t be a way to show his gratitude or respect.

  “He’s right, I can’t dance because of my leg,” Alex admitted. “Go on, and enjoy yourself, Charlotte. I am sure Sir Dreyfis will make a better companion tonight during the dance and festivities than I will.”

  “But – I want to be with you, Alex,” she said.

  “You heard the man,” sneered Dreyfis. “You can’t enjoy yourself with a cripple. Now come along, and we’ll share some wine and laughs after the dance.”

  Dreyfis held on to Lady Charlotte’s arm as he hurriedly made his way back to the keep. Charlotte looked over her shoulder with sad eyes, almost begging him to intervene.

  Alex reached down to rub his aching limb. His heart sank in his chest. Why had he let them walk away so easily? He liked being with Lady Charlotte. If he weren’t in such pain, he wouldn’t have insisted she dance with Sir Dreyfis.

  Alex hurriedly limped over to the stable, finding his horse and entering the stall. Anger welled up within him. He wasn’t a coward, but now Charlotte would think he was. He punched the side wall of the stable with his fist, scaring a few of the horses. Then he laid down in the hay pulling his cloak around him and closing his eyes. As he drifted off to sleep, the essence of Lady Charlotte Ashworth on his cloak filled his senses. All he had now were his dreams.

  Chapter 6

  “Girls, you’d better hurry and finish dressing or you will be late for Christmas mass,” said Summer, standing at the door, having just entered the room with Lady Ann, Charlotte’s mother.

  Charlotte had awoken and dressed earlier, but Regina and Claire were moving slowly. Their handmaids attended to their needs.

  “Charlotte,” snapped her mother. “I heard you were rude to Sir Dreyfis last night and even refused to dance with him. How are you ever going to find a husband with that attitude?”

  Charlotte stared out the open window, straightening up when she spied Alex walking out of the stable, holding the reins of his horse. It looked as if he were leaving.

  “Charlotte, did you hear me?” asked her mother. “Why didn’t you dance with him? What is the matter with you? Do you want to end up back in the convent for the rest of your life?”

  “She’s smitten with Alex,” said Claire, holding her hands over her head as her handmaid pulled her gown into place.

  “Alex? That nice young man we met on the road?” asked Summer.

  “He’s the cripple, isn’t he?” said Ann. “He is not an able-bodied man and certainly not someone to marry. He could never protect a wife.”

  “Mother, do not refer to him in that way again,” snapped Charlotte. “He is more of a man than Sir Dreyfis will ever be. Alex is kind, handsome, and thoughtful. Do you know last night in the garden he even shared his cloak with me to keep me warm?”

  “The garden?” asked Summer. “What was he doing there?”

  “Never mind that,” snorted Charlotte’s mother. “What were you doing so close to him in the dark?”

  “She kissed him, too,” Claire blurted out.

  “She did,” agreed Regina. “I like him. He is nice.”

  “I suppose he is,” said Claire. “But as Lady Ann said, he is not even to be considered as a prospect for a husband.”

  “Why not, Claire?” asked Summer. “Are you being haughty again?”

  “Nay, Mother,” said Claire as the handmaid ran a brush through her hair. It caught on a snaggle and Claire cried out. “Ow! I’ll do that.” She dismissed the handmaids, and they left the room. “I am not being haughty, Mother. I see what Lady Charlotte means about Sir Dreyfis. He is a wretched cur.”

  “He is also very cruel to Alex,” added Regina with a nod.

  “Claire, I think you’ve been unkind and unfair to Alex as well,” said Summer.

  “I
suppose I might have,” said Claire. “The longer he is here, the more I am starting to like him.”

  “You’d marry a commoner?” gasped Lady Ann.

  Claire laughed. “Nay, and I would never marry Alex.”

  “Why would you say that?” asked Charlotte. “Is it because of his leg? Because I don’t mind at all.”

  “It’s not that,” said Claire, looking over to Regina. “It’s just that we don’t think of him as the marrying type, do we, Regina?”

  Regina shrugged her shoulders. “Alexander is a fine man but, to me, he seems more like a brother than he does a husband.”

  “Aye, that’s it,” agreed Claire. “Speaking of brothers, where is Dominick? He said he was going to escort us to mass.”

  “Here I am,” said their brother, Dominick, holding the hand of his five-year-old son, Robert. “I heard every word you girls said about Alex. I would have been here sooner, but Robert was playing with the hound.”

  “Where is Alex now?” asked Summer curiously.

  Charlotte’s attention was back out the window. “He slept in the stable last night. I see him crossing over the drawbridge now. I believe he’s leaving.”

  “He is?” Summer ran to the window and looked out. “He didn’t even say goodbye.”

  “I’ve grown very fond of him. I don’t want him to leave,” said Charlotte.

  “Neither do I,” agreed Summer. “Dominick, hurry out to the courtyard and stop Alex from leaving.”

  “What?” Dominick shook his blond head. “Let him go, Mother. Mass is starting, and we need to hurry.”

  “I want to see Alex,” said Robert, running to the window and standing on his tiptoes to see out. Summer held him so he wouldn’t fall. “He walks funny,” said the little boy.

  “That’s because he has a bad leg,” said Charlotte.

  “Why?” asked Robert.

  “I think it was that way from birth,” Charlotte explained.

  “From birth,” whispered Summer staring out the window. Then she grabbed Robert by the hand and spun around. “Dominick, I’ll watch Robert, now hurry and stop Alex from leaving. Tell him to meet us in the chapel and that afterward we have a special feast and games planned for the celebration. Tell him I insist he joins us.”

  “But is this really necessary?” asked Dominick. “After all, he is just a commoner. We don’t even know him.”

  “Nay,” said Summer, shaking her head. “I feel as if I do know him.”

  “How could you?” asked Lady Ann. “He just arrived here yesterday.”

  “He is the son of a dear old friend of mine, and I will not let him leave and be traveling in the cold on Christmas. Now go, and don’t tarry or he will be gone.”

  “Aye, Mother.”

  “Come on, Robert, you can be my escort,” said Claire, holding the little boy’s hand as they all left the room.

  “Lady Summer,” said Charlotte, stopping her before she left.

  “What is it?” asked Summer, turning back to Charlotte.

  “I wanted to tell you the reason we were in the garden since you asked. I found Alex out there last night standing at the gravesite of your son, Peter.”

  “You did?” This seemed to interest Summer very much.

  “I also noticed the way he watched you yesterday when you went to pay your respects. He asked to go see the grave, but we never got there.”

  “Why would he ask to see Peter’s grave?”

  “I don’t know,” said Charlotte. “Mayhap he felt some need to do it because he heard that your son had a bad leg as well.”

  “Perhaps,” said Summer in deep thought. “Or mayhap it is more than that.”

  “What do you mean?” asked Charlotte.

  “I’m just thinking aloud.” Summer looked up and smiled. “Shall we go to mass before we miss it altogether? My husband is waiting for me down in the great hall and will not be happy if I take any longer.” She turned to go, but Charlotte stopped her once again.

  “Lady Summer, do you think it is wrong of me to have feelings for Alex?”

  “You do?” she asked in surprise.

  “I feel as both of us have so much in common with being rejected by others. I also really like him. I can see myself being married to him, but I know my mother will never allow it. He’s not even a noble.”

  “I think that if you and Alex feel the same way about each other, then status shouldn’t matter. I was once married to a man I didn’t love and who treated me terribly. I was miserable. But then I met Warren. I didn’t want to like him since he was my late husband’s nephew, but I fell in love. Now, I am happier than I’ve ever been in my life and it keeps getting better every day. Love is all that matters. Does he feel the same way about you that you do about him?”

  “I – I’m not sure,” said Charlotte. She glanced back out the window to see Dominick atop a horse following Alex over the drawbridge. “I don’t know, but I need to find out.”

  Summer took hold of Charlotte’s wrist and smiled at her with tears in her eyes.

  “Are you crying?” asked Charlotte.

  “They are tears of happiness,” said Summer with a smile. “Hearing you say that, makes me feel that if Peter had lived, mayhap he could have found love in this lifetime as well. Charlotte, I didn’t tell the others, but I really like Alex, too.”

  “You do?”

  “Aye. I think he looks a lot like Dominick. I know it doesn’t make any sense, but Alex really reminds me of the boy I lost. My son, Peter.”

  * * *

  Alex was already over the drawbridge when he heard someone shouting his name.

  “Alex, Alex, wait up.”

  He turned around to see Dominick riding up to greet him. “Good morning,” said Alex with a nod of his head. “You are Dominick – Lady Summer’s son, aren’t you?”

  “I am,” he said, slowing his horse and riding next to Alex. “Are you leaving so soon? We haven’t even eaten the Christmas goose yet.”

  “I think it is time that I am on my way.” Alex kept his eyes forward as he spoke. He couldn’t look at Dominick since they looked so much alike, only Dominick had blond hair.

  “My mother requests your presence during the rest of the festivities.”

  “Tell her thank you, but it is time I leave.”

  “I don’t know why she is so insistent on it, but if you leave I know she is going to have me follow you and bring you back. And by the looks of that old nag, unless it sprouts wings, you are not going to outride me.”

  Alex smiled, liking Dominick’s humor. He was still going to object until he heard Dominick’s next words.

  “The girls seem to like you and want you back as well. Especially Lady Charlotte.”

  “Really?” His head snapped around in surprise. “Are you sure?”

  “Lady Charlotte said she has grown fond of you, but my sisters say she is smitten. Claire and Regina like you, too, but they said they don’t want to marry you because you are more like a brother.”

  “Marry?” The idea caught Alex off guard. So did the word brother. A feeling lodged in Alex’s heart. If what Crandell said was true, then Alex was walking away from his true family. When he woke up this morning, he decided it would be too hard to accept if he told everyone he was Peter and then they dug up the grave to find the bones of the stillborn. If that were to happen, Alex would be devastated and not know what to do. Then again, if it turned out to be true, his whole life would change forever. He’d have a mother and a stepfather as well as two half-sisters and a brother. He would even be an uncle to little Robert. How could he walk away from all this? And the thing that hurt the most is that he didn’t want to leave Charlotte. But Charlotte was a beautiful noblewoman who deserved someone better. He didn’t want to doom her to a life with a man who didn’t even have two good legs.

  “What are you waiting for?” asked Dominick as the bells from the chapel rang out, signaling that the Christmas mass had begun. Alex swallowed the lump in his throat and confided in Dominick
.

  “I think I have feelings for Lady Charlotte although I just met her. She doesn’t judge me like the others.”

  “You mean like that pompous ass, Sir Dreyfis. If I were you, I would stand up to the man before he starts rumors that you are naught but a coward.”

  He was a coward where matters of the heart were concerned. But he was also not willing to walk away from a challenge, just like Dominick said.

  “I’m not a coward,” he said.

  “I’m sure you’re not.”

  “I’m a mercenary, and so was my father.”

  Dominick’s mouth dropped open. “I was just a lad when Crandell lived at Framlingham, but from what I remember, he was a loyal man, not someone who would hire out his sword.”

  “Something happened that I don’t understand. My father was banished.”

  “Banished?” asked Dominick, his brows dipping. “I don’t think so. I heard he left Framlingham to travel with his family.”

  “We did travel,” said Alex. “But on my father’s deathbed, he told me something . . . something that I want to believe but, at the same time, it frightens me out of my mind.”

  “What is it? You can tell me.”

  “Do you remember your father, Dominick? Baron Norbert Mowbray?”

  “I don’t remember much other than he mistreated my mother horribly. I was frightened of him and never got to really know him.”

  “Was he murdered?”

  Dominick took a minute and shook his head. “There were rumors he was but, in the end, it was found out that he died in his sleep.”

  “What about the stillborn?”

  “My brother, Peter?” asked Dominick. “What about him?”

  Alex struggled with keeping it a secret, but then decided he needed to confide in someone. He was all alone in this world now. It was lonely talking to oneself.

  “On his deathbed, my father told me he never buried Lady Summer’s baby.”

  “Aye, he did. The grave is right there in the garden under the rose bush.”

  “Did anyone see him actually lay the baby in the ground? Or could it have been just an empty casket?”

  “What are you saying?” Dominick seemed like he was becoming angry, so Alex had no choice but to tell him the truth.

 

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