by Sahara Kelly
This particular night was going to be very important, he knew. There had been no word from Prudence over the past days, although he could almost feel her thinking about him. And he’d done everything he was supposed to do, but even so, at least half of his mind had been on her every minute.
She was still at the Inn. A couple of the servants had been happy to mention that they’d seen her. He didn’t actually ask, of course, but led the conversation around to that particular topic.
So Brent and Emmeline had been squiring her to various events, while he and the rest of the residents of Chillendale Hall had been preparing for this very night.
“You have your clothing ready?”
Reid grimaced at his mother. “Yes. Green everything. The shirt is a vile lime sort of color and the jacket and breeches are dark green. But I do not hesitate to tell you, Mama, that I wish this could have been the Holly Ball. That way I could have alleviated all that green with a bit of red somewhere.”
“Oh hush. You’re the Mistletoe Marquess. It’s expected.” She gave him the eye.
“I know.” He sighed. “But I have to say that this particular ball is not exactly the same as all the others, is it?”
She shook her head. “No, it’s not. And your father and I do understand that.” She touched a spray of fir, straightening it slightly. “Reid, I’m going to ask you for something.”
“What’s that?”
“Will you trust us? Me and your father?” She turned to him with a serious look on her face.
“Of course,” he answered immediately. “You know I do.”
“It is possible that your father may have discovered a solution to the Prudence problem. All we ask is that you keep a happy heart and smile through this evening, until we can make sure it will serve.”
Reid’s heart hammered. “Can you tell me anything else?”
She took a deep breath. “Come over here.” She led him to a nook with two chairs set next to each other. “Earlier today, your father received a note. We don’t know who it was from, but it said that Lady Prudence’s father was Jack Rowdean.”
“What?” Reid fell back in the chair. He could have anticipated many things, but not this… “She’s Brent’s sister?”
“Step-sister, I would guess. There’s more to this, but I cannot go into it right now. I just wanted you to know that we are doing what we can on your behalf.”
“But this is good news, isn’t it?” He clung to a smidgen of hope. “We know who her father is. That’s more than anyone has known for most of her life, I believe. Does she know?”
“I think Brent will tell her. It’s only right. They are family after all. Really family.”
“I can see that. Lord, I wish I could’ve seen Brent’s face when he found out he had a half-sister.” Reid grinned.
“Look, lovey, it’s only a piece of information. And it’s good to know Prudence’s paternity. But she is still illegitimate. Her father wasn’t her mother’s husband. It doesn’t change the fundamentals of the situation.”
Reid breathed in and out slowly, trying to accustom his brain to this new order of things. “And you say there may be more to this? Can’t you tell me?”
“I wish I could, but no. There are others involved and these things take time.” She looked away. “Now I must go and get dressed. I just wanted you to know that we love you and this is where we are at the moment in our efforts to accomplish your happiness.” She reached up and kissed his cheek. “Now trot along. Your festive attire awaits and we mustn’t be late for the receiving line.”
Clenching his teeth, Reid turned to leave, afraid to hope yet unable to stop. A maid passed him, dropping him a quick curtsey. She held a small dish in her hands and she took it to Lady Jocelyn.
“Reid, a moment?”
He stopped at his mother’s command. “Yes?”
“You know that there will be a table full of Christmas puddings in the dining room?”
“Yes. Those little dishes we seem to have in abundance. Every year Cook fills about a thousand of ‘em with pudding.”
“Don’t exaggerate. It’s only a hundred. And she puts little treats inside some of them for the lucky ones.”
Reid nodded, curious where this conversation was going. “Yes, I remember. I nearly broke my tooth on a halfpenny one year.”
“You were six and I think you’d lost your front teeth anyway.” His mother shrugged off the memory with a grin. “Well I want you to make sure you give this pudding to Prudence. And be certain she tries it.” She reached for a mistletoe ball and snapped off a tiny piece, putting it on the top of the tiny dish. “This pudding, Reid. It’s important. Do you understand?”
“I do. Did you put a sixpence in there for her?”
“Of course.” She moved to the massive mantel, reached up and placed the dish on the corner behind an ormolu clock, out of the way. “I’m putting it here. Don’t forget. It is important.”
“I have it memorized. But I wish you’d tell me why?” He stared at her, trying to guess what she might be up to.
“It’s a little something for Prudence from the family. So no matter what happens tonight she will have it to remember us by.”
No matter what happens tonight.
His heart sank once more. “Oh. All right. I’ll make sure she gets it.”
“Thank you my dear. Oh my. Look at the time. Hurry along now.” She dragged him toward the Chillendale front hall. “I’ll see you down here within the hour.”
Confused, trying to make sense of everything his mother had said, and with half of his mind still trying to work out how he could persuade Prudence to be his and not ruin Chillendale at the same time, Reid threw up his hands and followed his parent up the staircase.
Brent’s sister. My God, that was a complete surprise.
As he entered his room, to be almost blinded by the green of his clothes for the evening, he found himself praying that something would occur to make his and Pru’s dreams come true. Because a life without her was unthinkable.
What he really needed wasn’t a Mistletoe Ball, it was a Mistletoe Miracle.
Chapter Fifteen
Prudence looked at herself in the mirror in her room at the Inn. It wasn’t the clearest reflection, but she could see enough to know that it was the best she could do. Her gown was satin, green—of course—the bright green of fresh leaves in spring. She had brought it with her, just in case she would be able to attend this event.
Brent had told her about it. Just as he’d told her earlier today that they now knew who her father was.
When she learned that she was the daughter of Jack Rowdean, she forgot to breathe for a few moments and felt the color drain from her cheeks.
Deeply concerned, Brent sat her down and roughly pushed her head between her knees, just as he’d done as a child when she threatened to faint on him after almost shattering her kneecap on a rock in the river. She’d kept her kneecap, fortunately, escaping with a bruise. But Brent had never forgotten that little maneuver that had kept her conscious.
It came in handy at this moment when she learned she was his half-sister.
“Brent.” She reached out a hand. “You really are my brother.”
“Yes I am,” he answered, taking her hand in his. “And I suppose we should have known. We tend to think alike on things, and I love you dearly, always have, but never that way. Which is odd, when you come to think of it.”
“You’ve always been my best friend.” She nodded in agreement. “And I suppose I should have had a tendre for you at some point in our acquaintance, but I never did. Nature must have been telling us something.”
“I have a sister.” He squeezed her fingers. “I’m still getting used to the idea.”
She smiled, her eyes stinging at the first true family moment she could remember having for a long time. “I have a brother. And a family. Or do I? Where does this put us? Me?”
Her smile faded as Brent shook his head. “Honestly? I don’t know. I would love
to say that yes, now you’re a Rowdean. But you know as well as I that you were never acknowledged as such. I’ve been racking my brains to try and remember if my father ever mentioned anything about another child. I don’t think he did, certainly not in my hearing. So it’s entirely possible he never knew about you, love. He travelled a lot when I was young, and then…the accident.”
“Damn it all.” She let his hand go and stood, shaking out her skirts. “I am no better off than before, am I?”
“That I don’t know. Let me just say this…the first thing I did when I found out about it, was ask if I could acknowledge you as a Rowdean. But because your mother was married at the time of your birth, I can’t.” His mouth turned down. “I asked Sir Rodney, because he got a note as well. So did the Southwicks. And I’m really sorry that even knowing you’re an unofficial Rowdean, I can’t help.”
“Why the Southwicks, I wonder? Oh…you and Emmeline, I imagine.” She paused then asked the question that popped into her mind. “Where did this information come from, Brent? Who found this out?”
“It’s a bit of a mystery, actually. Notes were delivered, from “A Friend”. I tried to find anyone who saw the messenger, but apparently whoever it was just vanished into the snow. Nobody remembers him as anything other than some man in a dark cloak. That’s it. So I have no clue who dispatched the notes, or if they will help or harm your situation with Reid. But let’s be as positive as we can. Sir Rodney has a few ideas, so all is not yet lost.”
All is not yet lost.
Prudence kept that thought uppermost in her mind as she affixed a small sprig of mistletoe into the shining chestnut curls at the back of her head. She allowed one lock of hair to fall loosely over her shoulder and pinned a small red ribbon over the stem of the mistletoe.
Turning around, she nodded at the positioning, hoping that it would be suitable for the occasion.
Eschewing jewelry, of which she had little, she decided upon a thin green ribbon made from the same satin as her dress. When she tied it around her neck, she realized it was the perfect finishing touch. She needed no more than that.
A loud tap on the door was followed by Brent’s voice. “Almost ready, sister-of-mine?”
Her lips curved into a smile. “Yes indeed, brother dear.”
So it was on a positive note that she and Brent left the Inn and got into the carriage Brent had hired for the night. Wrapped warmly in her cloak and with her gloves and reticule by her side, Prudence’s thoughts settled down. She was going to see Reid tonight. She’d missed him so much; it had been like living with a permanent tooth ache.
No matter what lay ahead, they would have this night together. And she now knew who her father was. That was something she’d never imagined, let alone the possibility that she had also gained a step-brother as well. That fact alone warmed her heart—and suddenly she felt a touch of the joy of the Season. She would no longer be celebrating Christmas as a lonely child.
*~~*~~*
The strains of the first dance were echoing through Chillendale Hall as Brent and Prudence arrived. There were lights everywhere, in every window, and smoke billowed from more than a few chimneys.
The servants were kept busy taking cloaks and assisting the guests tidy themselves before joining the line of people waiting to greet their hosts for the evening.
Reid, whose extra inches gave him a bit of an advantage, breathed a sigh of relief when a familiar head of chestnut curls appeared amidst the throng of the receiving line. She was here at last.
And when she and Brent finally stepped in front of him, he wanted nothing more than to sweep her off her feet and vanish with her into some far away room where they could be private.
“Stop it,” she whispered through a polite smile.
“Stop what?” He bent and kissed her hand formally.
“Looking at me like that. It’s doing terribly bad things to me.”
“Good. Regard it as practice. I will make sure to repeat them in their entirety later.” Reid grinned.
“If you two don’t mind, may I present my half-sister?” Brent’s smile was as wide as the horizon. “She maintains the family tradition of beauty and brains.”
Reid chuckled. “Well, Brent my friend. I have a feeling she started it, since you’re decidedly lacking in the beauty department and when it comes to brains…well…”
“Ahem.” A cough from the next guest reminded Reid of his duty and he nodded as he passed Brent and Prudence on toward his father and mother.
“Save me a dance,” he called after her.
“Of course.” She waved her fan as she departed.
Reid continued his portion of the receiving process, but managed to keep an eye on his love, noting how warmly Pru was received by his mother and father. They were doing the family proud tonight, but always had a moment to be kind and friendly, no matter how formal the occasion.
He and Pru would be like that to their family too. He refused to think otherwise.
“Dear Reid. How lovely it looks here at Chillendale. I’m convinced that I would never be able to produce such a pretty scene at Southwick, even though our ballroom has such magnificent dimensions.”
Thus reminded of how insignificant he was, Reid bowed and smiled at Lady Southwick. “Welcome, my Lady. Lord Southwick.”
Brent reappeared all of a sudden and swept up behind the Southwicks, seizing Emmeline’s arm and linking it through his. “There. That’s where you belong, my sweet.”
Emmeline gave him a look that Reid could only describe as worshipful.
“Hallo Emmeline. Welcome to the Mistletoe Ball. I see your escort is ready to dance you off your feet this evening.” Reid smiled at them both.
“I do hope so,” replied Emmeline. “We haven’t danced together yet. So many wonderful experiences lie ahead.” She smiled at Reid, then looked back at Brent.
“I can’t wait,” he said, looking down at her with much the same expression in his gaze.
“Well then. Perhaps you should find the ballroom, Brent. It’s still where it always was. And a few more people would like to do the same thing, but they’re standing behind you.”
“Ah, yes. Sorry.” Brent smiled over his shoulder. “I just got engaged to this beautiful woman. You’ll have to forgive my behavior.”
A small cheer and a round of applause sounded in response to his words, and Emmeline blushed and curtseyed. It was quite adorable and driving Reid mad, since he wanted nothing more than to find Prudence and get out of the public spotlight.
It was another ten minutes before he could shake free of his duties and head to the ballroom himself.
When he did, it was to find his quarry enjoying a country dance with a local farmer, who looked in awe of his partner, but managed to remember the steps quite well. As it ended, Reid worked his way around the dance floor to meet her. She curtseyed and smiled at her partner, who blushed and bowed—if not gracefully, at least enthusiastically.
Reid made sure he was there when she turned. “Hullo. I hope you’re not booked for the next dance?”
She shook her head. “No, I thought perhaps you might be free for this one so I kept it empty.”
“That’s my girl.” He led her to a quieter spot. “I’ve missed you so much this last week. Have you been well entertained?”
“Indeed yes.” She told him some of her experiences with Brent and Emmeline. “But there was something missing. You.”
“And now you have a name for your father,” said Reid, wanting to touch her so much, but knowing he could not— this was not the moment.
“I do. And a half-brother,” she answered with an odd look on her face. “How strange that sounds. I thought I had a cousin, and now it turns out we’re much more closely related. Isn’t the world strange, Reid? So many odd twists to our lives, ones we could never have anticipated.”
“I wish…”
“Sshh.” She slipped her arm through his. “I wish that too. But for tonight, I will not let the future and its proble
ms intrude on our party.”
“All right.” Reid smiled then, following her lead. “May I have this dance, Lady Prudence?”
“It would be my pleasure, Mr. Chillendale.” She paused, listening. “Oh my goodness. How daring. A waltz…”
He took her in his arms and whirled her onto the floor where one or two other couples were starting the scandalous measures. “And you thought we were provincial here in Chillendale. Almacks has nothing on us.”
Her laugh made others smile and for a short time, Reid waltzed with his love, both of them surrounded by laughter and the joy of sharing a special evening with people that matter in the best kind of way.
Even Emmeline was granted permission to waltz with Brent, and surprised everyone by her mastery of the more complicated measures. She and Brent were well matched, realized Reid. It surprised him somewhat, but then who was he to cavil at his friend’s happiness. He was waltzing with Pru on a cloud of their own.
The evening progressed, with everyone enjoying themselves and the season. There was mulled wine and syllabub, and the children who attended—mostly those too old for the nativity play and Fête—enjoyed a special time in another large room where games had been set up, along with a table of goodies just for them.
After a couple of hours, Reid saw his mother signal to the musicians to take their break, and he knew it was time for the Mistletoe Marquess announcements and crowning.
He felt his heartrate accelerate at the realization that the moment had arrived. And he wasn’t sure what to do.
Prudence must have sensed his distress, because she was suddenly there, her hand in his. “Do what you must, my love. Do your duty to your name and your family. It is who you are. And who you are is who I love.”
She looked at him, a gaze of faith and trust that pierced him like an arrow to his heart. He squeezed her hand. “I will.”
