Christmas Wishes: The Love of a Marquess

by Emily Williams

She stopped for a moment, preventing herself from saying "He only wished to marry me because his father was jealous of my family and our wealth." That was not a kind thing to say, and not entirely the truth either. She may have been angry, but she was still a respectable woman.

  He has not been unkind, but it certainly seems as if he, nor I, had thought this through entirely.

  She sighed heavily. She hated admitting it, but she had to share the blame. Charles had been right again. She had agreed to go with him. She had every chance to say no to him, and instead, she allowed her romantic ideals to run away with her.

  We are not wed yet, but he told me that we are to travel to Kingsfield tomorrow. He promised me that he would ensure we were married in order to prevent any further harm to my reputation.

  She felt the tears well in her eyes as she dipped her quill back into the ink.

  Lord Henry, I do not know what I should do. My entire life has been put into jeopardy. I am in no harm physically, of course, but who would take me now? I have made the choice, whether I was readily aware of the consequences or not.

  If I marry Mr. Barnes, at least I can swallow my choice with pride, despite the reaction it will surely draw from those in my family's social circles. I grieve for the trouble it will cause my parents, but at least it will have been my own choice. And I think I could be happy with Mr. Barnes.

  If I do not marry him, then I would return home to ridicule and my father's wrath. Not only would he be furious with me, but I do fear what he might do to Mr. Barnes. I'm sure it has been most unpleasant being near him as of late, and for that, I do apologize. It is my fault, after all.

  She blotted away a tear that had fallen onto the parchment, partially smearing the last word she had written.

  Please keep me in your prayers. My heart is heavy with guilt. And please give my love to my parents when you see them. They will know my decision sooner or later.

  With all my love, Harriette.

  She rose from her seat after she had addressed and sealed the envelope and made her way down to the tavern. She hoped that the owner was still awake so she could get the letter to Lord Henry as soon as possible.

  There was not a soul downstairs, and she realized it must have been very late indeed. She feared running into Charles, but she relaxed when she didn't see his familiar blonde hair anywhere. She had wondered if he would have waited up for her.

  But she didn't see the owner either. Discouraged, she looked about as quietly as she could. She heard the door to the kitchens open, and a tall, thin man with a balding head with spectacles walked out. He seemed startled when he looked up at and saw her.

  "Oh, good evening, Miss," he said, wiping his glasses on his apron. "I thought everyone had gone to sleep."

  She held out the letter. "I have a letter that needs to be shipped as soon as possible, sir," she said rather plainly. She had almost no strength left. Her bed upstairs seemed too far away.

  The man blinked and cleared his throat. "At this hour, my lady?"

  "It is urgent, sir," she said, a little more forcefully. She knew that her name held no weight out here, but that didn't mean that she couldn't try to use some of the things she had learned from her mother and father. "It is a matter that is very sensitive and could have catastrophic effects."

  The man licked his lips and swallowed. He wiped his glasses off once more, as if he had forgotten he had just done so.

  "Well, all right," the man said, turning back toward the kitchens.

  Relaxing, she made to turn around back toward the stairs up, but she stopped when the man said, "Miss?"

  "Yes?" she replied.

  "You're here with that young man, yes? About this high, sandy-colored hair?"

  She felt a weight in her chest. "I am."

  He looked around, even though there was no one else in the room. "He came back in not long ago. He seemed right upset. He asked for a bite to eat when he came in. Looked as if he had been kicked while he was down. Is he all right?"

  She felt her chest tighten. "He's fine," she replied, more coldly than she would have liked. "He's just realizing that perhaps he has allowed his adventurous spirit to go a bit too far."

  And with that, she turned away, and made her way back up to her room, all alone, feeling downright ashamed and infuriated all at the same time. She collapsed onto her bed and cried until sleep overwhelmed her and she could cry no longer.

  Chapter 8 – The Long Road

  Sleep had not found Lord Henry for the last three nights. He wished he could sleep, for then at least, for a few hours, he could escape this nightmare that he felt trapped inside.

  But he knew that his wishes were fickle; if he were to sleep, surely he would see nothing but her face.

  He and Lord Terra took shifts beside the front door, hoping above all hope, that something or someone would appear on the long drive up to the Pangborn estate. Madam Stewart had been so sure that they would see her soon that it had been all that was keeping them all from losing their very minds.

  It was his turn that evening, and the air outside was frigid and oppressively dark. The moon and the stars were obscured by clouds that had threatened rain all day. He continually held the lantern beside his feet aloft, hoping to banish some of the shadows that frightened him more than he cared to admit.

  Dawn could not be far off, he realized. Though the hours were long, he found nothing that helped pass the time any faster. Books could not hold his attention, and no one wished to converse for very long, for what was there to discuss? They all knew eventually that Lady Harriette would come up, and they could not bear to speak of her when she was already so much in their thoughts.

  Her brother was having the hardest time of all. He paced up and down the halls every minute of the day, his fingers stroking his chin, hoping that some sort of inspiration would strike and allow him to solve all of their problems and questions.

  Nothing had struck him yet.

  Lord Henry pulled the cloak he wore more closely around his shoulders. He could see his breath hanging in the air around him, white puffs, like the steam from a train. His fingers closed reflexively on the letter from Lady Harriette.

  I am afraid.

  He sighed heavily, feeling once more the grip on his heart that made him feel sick. He hoped against all hope that she wasn’t afraid, and that she was safe. How could anyone stand feeling this way? How could any person live with this kind of pain, the unanswered questions, the feeling of desperate loss?

  That was when he heard it; there was a crunch on the drive further along, and immediately he rose to his feet, holding the lantern aloft. He hardly dared breath.

  Could it be possible…that Lady Harriette…

  Had she returned?

  He began to walk toward the sound, and before he knew it, he was running down the drive to meet the source of the sound, for it was indeed a carriage, the wheels, and hooves growing louder as he drew closer.

  The horse whinnied as he approached, and the carriage came to a stop. Lord Henry dashed to the little window and peered inside. He did not recognize the man inside, and his heart fell to his feet.

  Gasping for breath, he flung open the door.

  The man inside stared bewildered at him, his eyes wide.

  “Is there, by any chance, a Lord Henry here?” the man asked feebly, after a moment or two had passed, his eyes searching Lord Henry’s face.

  “There is!” he said. “I am Lord Henry!”

  The man pulled a letter from inside his jacket, glanced at it once, and passed it to Lord Henry.

  It took every ounce of discipline that he had not to rip it from the man’s grasp. Immediately, he recognized the swooping writing of Lady Harriette, and he cheered out loud.

  “My apologies, my good man!” Lord Henry said, feeling lightheaded with joy. “This letter has been long awaited. I did not mean to frighten you.”

  “It’s quite all right, lad,” the man said, a small smile pulling the corner of his mouth. “It was made clear
to me that this letter was urgent. I got it here as soon as I possibly could.”

  Lord Henry could have hugged the man, but he simply shook his hand vigorously. “Thank you, thank you. Here,” he said, pulling some bank notes from inside his jacket. “Please, take these as a gesture of gratitude from the family.”

  The man seemed taken aback. “Oh, my lord, this is far too much—”

  “Nonsense,” Lord Henry said. “You have no idea the relief that you have delivered in this small letter! Thank you again!”

  He could not wait any longer; he turned from the carriage after he waved to the man once more, and started back up the drive. He saw a low hanging branch in a nearby tree, which he hung the lantern so he could open the letter.

  Quickly he scanned her words, hungrily reading it. Looking for something, anything, to tell him what was happening.

  He nearly collapsed against the tree. They weren’t married yet, and she was not sure that she wanted to. He was relieved to know that she had not been compromised in any way. The weight and the agony that had been hanging over him swiftly lifted.

  Kingsfield.

  That was not far; if he left now, he could be there by afternoon tomorrow on horseback. It had been some time since he had gone anywhere by horseback, but he would have walked if it meant finding Lady Harriette.

  He stopped as he was hurrying up the hill back toward the manor. He chewed the inside of his lip. Should he wake up the rest of the family? It would be the right thing to do, but the impatient part of himself reminded him quite loudly that it was a massive waste of time.

  If I go on my own, they can wake to good news. They’ll have the knowledge that I am going to be there not long after they read the letter. It can give me them peace to know that the situation is being resolved.

  He nodded his head and began to hurry up the hill once more.

  He knew that Lord Pangborn would most likely be angry that he had not been informed immediately, but Lord Henry knew that every moment he was not on his way to her was time lost.

  If he could still reach her before they wed…

  …but who would take me now?

  He could see her asking the question, her eyes wide and doleful, her cheeks fair, her lips like a poppy.

  How could she be so foolish? How could she think that no one would take her? He knew the truth; he knew her. Surely, she must not think that she would be rejected the way she had written about.

  He tore inside the house and dashed down the hall to the study where Lord Terra kept his studying materials. He rummaged around in the dark for an ink bottle and quill.

  It was respectable that she wished to follow through with her choice to protect herself and her family, he realized. That took great courage, and it was not something that he himself could have done. She had grown much, he knew, admitting that she had made a mistake and choosing to live with the consequences, instead of running from them.

  But his heart hoped against all hope that she would not choose Charles, and instead come home. They could still smooth out the mess.

  He spilled some of the ink on the parchment in his excitement to scrawl a note down to the family as quickly as possible.

  She is in Kingsfield. I received a letter from her around half past four this morning, he noted, glancing at the clock up against the wall. I am on my way to her. I apologize for not alerting you, but I assumed it would be better for someone to be on their way to her as soon as possible. I will send word as soon as I have met up with her.

  With that, he hurried back down the hall, and glancing around wildly for a place to leave the letter, decided that on the table just inside the door would be as good a place as any.

  He wasted no time saddling a horse from the stable. He knew that Lord Pangborn would understand, and that Lord Terra would have encouraged such rash actions in order to assure the return of his sister. It was Lady Harriette’s favorite horse, he realized as he galloped out onto the drive.

  The first rays of sunlight were coming through the trees, causing the inky black sky to look more blue, and the stars were visible now.

  Oh, Lord God, please protect her until I can get there. Give my heart peace, and give her strength.

  The hours passed slowly, and he wondered if Lord Pangborn had discovered the letter yet. He assumed they had, as Mr. Walters would have seen it, waking earlier than the rest of the family. He wondered if they would be angry with him for leaving so suddenly. The guilt weighed him down, but he knew that their anger would be gone if he discovered her.

  He rode and rode, only stopping once or twice to allow the horse to drink and give him something to eat. The horse must have sensed his urgency, for he did not fight and buck as he normally did when he was tired. Lord Henry promised him over and over that he would receive a bushel of carrots in reward for his service.

  He was an hour from Kingsfield when he noticed something very strange. There was a young girl up ahead on the street, her maroon traveling cloak pulled up over her head. She was walking as if she had been travelling for miles.

  He slowed the horse and watched her closely. Some of the girl’s long hair peeked out from under her hood, and it was dark and curling as the ends. Her hands clung onto her arms as if she were freezing, and she wore traveling boots that looked far too expensive for an ordinary village girl.

  It was not until he noticed the emerald ring on her middle finger on her right hand that he knew who it was.

  “Harriette?” he asked, almost to himself, feeling as if the wind had been knocked out of him.

  The girl, who was just on the other side of the road, stopped walking. She looked up, the hood falling off of her head.

  And their eyes met.

  “Harriette!” he exclaimed, throwing himself off the back of the horse, and running across the street to her.

  She looked as if she had seen a ghost, and when the recognition finally dawned on her, she burst into tears.

  “Oh, Lord Henry!” she cried, and without hesitation, she threw herself into his arms.

  He felt his own eyes well with tears as he grasped her as close to himself as he could. The smell of her hair, the sound of her breathing, the feel of her heart hammering against his chest…it felt as if the piece of his life that was missing had been made whole again. In that moment, the only thing that could have ever mattered was that she was there, right there, with him. And he was never going to let her go again.

  A violently frightening thought struck him, and he pulled her away from himself for a moment.

  She looked startled, her eyes still streaming with tears.

  “Are you married?” he asked, realizing his face must have looked very stern.

  She shook her head, her bottom lip trembling.

  “And you are unharmed? Untouched?”

  She nodded, her eyes blinking away more tears.

  He said nothing, but pulled her once more into his arms, and her crying begun once more.

  They stood there for a long time, in the middle of the quiet road, simply enveloped in one another’s arms. It took some time before she was calm enough to speak to him.

  “I left him at the inn early this morning,” she said, trying to calm her breathing, which was coming in quick gasps. “I told him I could not go through with it, no matter what it cost me at home. I said I would rather live alone for the rest of my life instead of being married to someone I felt had…betrayed me.”

  Lord Henry hesitated, a flurry of questions flooding his mind. He decided on one. “What did he think? Did he fight you?”

  “No,” she said, rather quietly. “He didn’t know I left. I assume he was still asleep, but he seemed to understand that I was leaning this direction last night. I went back and forth about it. I had spent so much time in my life infatuated with him to know who he truly was…an immature, impulsive young man who needed something like this to happen in order to force him to grow up.”

  “Will he accept whatever punishment he is given?”

  She
nodded her head. “I believe he would. I spent much time thinking about it, and I will ensure that father does not deal with him too harshly. He never meant me any harm. And he did think that we would make a good match. He just…he was too rash, and I was too swept up in the romance of it all. So it is just as much my fault as it is his.”

  He smiled down at her. He could see that her composure was returning, and he felt a rush of affection toward her.

  “Dear Harriette, in your letter you said…” he felt lightheaded, but pushed forward. “You said that you didn’t believe that anyone would take you if you were to return home.”

  “Well, of course,” she replied, her sadness returning. “No one will take me. It won’t matter what I tell anyone; they will assume that I am a defiled woman since I ran away with a man who was not my husband. I know—”

  “I will marry you,” he interrupted.

  For a moment, the only sound between them was the rush of the wind. She could only stare at him, her mouth hanging open.

  “You…what?” she breathed finally.

  He could only beam at her. “I will marry you. Happily!”

  “Why?” she asked, bewildered.

  “Because who could love you more than I could?” he asked plainly. “I will tell you now that I had planned to ask you to marry me after you were to come out into society. I intend to tell your father as soon as we are back home, and then we will hush this whole fiasco up. That way your reputation, and the reputation of your family, will be saved.”

  “What about Mr. Barnes and his father?” she asked.

  Lord Henry smiled. “He will agree to remain quiet knowing he can keep his pride, and the forgiveness of his son. He wishes to brush this under the rug just as much as your family does.”

  She smiled up at him, the tears returning. “You would do this all for me? Just to ensure that my reputation is upheld?”

  He shook his head. “I am a selfish man, dear Harriette. You and I have been friends for a long time…and I have loved you almost as long.”

  He saw her cheeks flush scarlet, and she looked down. “…what did you say?”

  “I said I have loved you with an unconditional and unending love. I realized I had made a huge mistake not telling you sooner when I arrived at your house a few days ago, to hear that you had left.”