The Yuletide Countess: Harriet's Traditional Regency Romance

by Alicia Quigley

  New snow had fallen overnight, and sparkled in the winter sun as only fresh flakes do, as they made the short drive to the parish church. Its grey stone also benefited from the sunshine, glowing gold in the morning light, as the bells rang a merry peal for Christmas morning. While small, the church was of a classic gothic design, with high arched windows along the nave, and an oriel window above the entrance, given by some long gone Learmouth ancestor. The light streaming through the stained glass painted the interior of the church with a patchwork of color, which bounced off of the vaulting, and illuminated a medieval altarpiece of the Madonna and Child. Harriet walked on Glencairn’s arm to the family pew at the front of the church, conscious of the many eyes upon them, as Francis, Isobel, and Glencairn’s children followed them. While the organist played a prelude, she silently prayed for blessings on the new life that lay before her.

  When the vicar strode in, she rose with the rest of the congregation and let the ancient words of the Common Prayer order of service roll over her.

  When it was time for the reading, the vicar stepped forward. “And the angel said unto them, ‘Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people,’” he intoned.

  Harriet couldn’t help feeling that he had selected the text just for them. She reached out to Glencairn, squeezing his hand, and they exchanged a smile.

  When the service was over, Lord Francis slipped out of the pew, and whispered to the vicar as he prepared to greet the parishioners. With a nod and a smile, he waited with Lord Francis, watching Harriet and Glencairn.

  Isobel had also left the pew, and now Glencairn looked down at Harriet and held out his hand.

  “Since we are in Scotland, there is no need to call the banns,” he said. “And, as we are in my own parish, there is likewise no need to find a blacksmith in some nearby town to marry us over the anvil. If you will, we can be married right now. I even took the liberty of bringing a wedding ring for you, my dear.”

  Harriet looked around the sunlit church, taking in the smiles on the faces of Lord and Lady Francis and the villagers milling about in the aisles, and nodded mutely, too full of emotion to speak. “Oh, yes,” she finally whispered.

  The six of them walked up to the altar steps, and the organist, seeing the vicar open his prayer book once again, began to play from Handel’s Messiah, as they gathered. Harriet and Glencairn stood facing each other, while Sophia and Isobel stood next to Harriet, and Francis and Douglas joined Glencairn.

  The vicar cleared his throat loudly. “Dearly Beloved, we are gathered here today in the sight of God and this company, to join this man and this woman in holy matrimony,” he began, and the congregation realized what was afoot and turned to watch. They listened silently to the brief ceremony, and when the vicar indicated that groom could kiss the bride, they erupted into cheers as Glencairn embraced Harriet, who radiated joy. She smiled at him, and then turned to hug Douglas and Sophia, who were clearly pleased to know that Harriet was now truly part of their family.

  Chapter 28

  The vicar and the neighboring gentry who had been at the service returned to Glencairn Castle for a wedding breakfast in the Great Hall, at which champagne flowed, while a magnificent repast occupied the long table.

  Harriet approached Catherine after the meal and hugged her. “I am so glad we will be raising Glencairn’s children together,” she said. “I know that you have their interests as much at heart as I.”

  “As to that Lady Glencairn,” Catherine began.

  “No, no, no, I am still Harriet to you, my dear,” she broke in. “It will not do for you to become just the governess to me.”

  “Very well then, Harriet,” Catherine conceded. “I will certainly stay if you should need me, but Douglas is in school, and Lady Sophia is more in need of a finishing academy in Edinburgh than my teaching. “

  “That is true,” Harriet acknowledged. “But I will never send you away to a post in a house where you may not be well-treated.”

  “As you know, there is a position where I would be welcome, well-treated, useful, and very happy, Harriet, but a little assistance from you may be required to achieve it,” Catherine responded a bit cryptically.

  “I assume you speak of Mr. Beattie, and your hopes of becoming his wife, but how can I assist you with that?” Harriet asked.

  Catherine grinned at her. “I could certainly never have asked this of his lordship myself, but now that you are the Countess of Glencairn, perhaps you can intercede for us. If Lord Glencairn would but use his interest on Mr. Beattie’s behalf to find him a good living, we could be wed.”

  “Oh!” Harriet exclaimed. “I clearly am not accustomed to the notion of being Glencairn’s wife, for this had not occurred to me at all. But of course, I will make certain that he finds a position for Mr. Beattie.”

  “You need not worry about recommending him; he is a good and scholarly man, who I know would make an excellent vicar. And he is taller than I am,” Catherine ended triumphantly.

  “That settles it then, you must certainly marry him,” Harriet said with a little chuckle. “Glencairn simply must find a handsome living for him. Even if there are no incumbents on his estate that are near retirement, he will know someone who has one open. I’ll give him a little time to become accustomed to having a wife again, and will take it up with him once we are settled.”

  Catherine thanked her sincerely, as the coming new year suddenly looked brighter than she had thought possible, while Harriet rejoined her husband in accepting the congratulations of all.

  Much later that evening, Harriet and Glencairn sat by the fire in the drawing room, their hands clasped tightly. Francis and Isobel had discreetly withdrawn some time before, and now Harriet’s head rested on her husband’s shoulder as a feeling of contentment washed through her. When she had arrived at Glencairn not a week ago, she’d had no thought that on Christmas Day she would be the cherished wife of its lord. She gave a tiny sigh.

  “Are you tired, my love?” asked Glencairn.

  “I should be, as it has been the most surprising day!” said Harriet. “But I am only very happy, and amazed at what has occurred. You are far too good to me, Euan.”

  Glencairn put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close. “It is impossible to be too good to you, Harriet. You have opened up a new and happier path to me, and I look forward eagerly to our future together.” He pressed his lips to hers, and she gave a little coo of delight.

  “My lord—” she broke off.

  “My lady?” he asked.

  “I will never get used to being called my lady!” she exclaimed.

  “Indeed you will,” he assured her. “What did you wish to say?”

  Harriet flushed a bit. “When I said that I was not tired, I did not mean that we should not retire for the evening,” she said hesitantly.

  Glencairn grinned. “I’ve had Janet move your things to the countess’ room. I hope you find it to your liking.” He stood and raised her to her feet, and then, his arm around her waist, escorted her to the door of the drawing room. “Would you like to see your new bedroom?”

  “I would indeed,” said Harriet cheerfully.

  “Then allow me to escort you, my lady,” said Glencairn. He kissed her one more time and then, hand in hand, they walked up the stairs.

  ***

  Dearest Pippa,

  Once again, I put pen to paper to let you know of my doings, and as so often happens, I have a great deal to tell you. After Lord G and I visited with you and Mr. Benderly in April (and I was so delighted to see that that our husbands liked each other a great deal), we ventured to London, where we spent some days with Lord and Lady Francis. As much as I love Glencairn Castle and my life in Scotland, it was pleasant to see my London acquaintances, and to attend a few parties and Almack’s. Dear Lord G, for all he says he has lost touch with his old friends, was greeted with great joy, and I rather fancy that he will be willing to return to London from time to time and per
haps even buy a house there in a few years when Sophy makes her curtsey to Society.

  We did not linger long, however, for Lord G was eager to return home, and I found myself anxious to see Sophy again as well as Glencairn Castle in the springtime, for, while I have been there in the summer, the autumn, and the winter, I had not yet experienced the beauty of Scotland when the leaves are just bursting forth from the trees and the flowers are poking their tiny green shoots out from the earth. How lovely it is, and the days grow longer now as well. Lord G is much occupied with the planting of the crops and the ewes are lambing. There is nothing more adorable, dear sister, than a lamb just a few days old. I had no idea how charming farming is; I have a great deal to learn and Lord G is kind enough to be patient with my questions.

  Yesterday Lord G and I attended the wedding of Miss Dalburn and Mr. Beattie. Lord G kindly took an interest in Mr. Beattie’s affairs these past months, and has secured him an excellent living on the Meyrick estate, not five miles from here, which delights me, as I will be able to visit her often. So, my dear Miss Dalburn is now Mrs. Beattie, and I am pleased to see that she is so well-settled and positively glows with joy. The wedding was a merry affair at the parish church, and Lord G was gracious enough to give away the bride and host a lovely breakfast afterwards. We had dancing in the Great Hall and it was warm enough to throw the doors open and enjoy the spring breeze. The scent of flowers on the air made us all the more eager for summer to come. I look forward to the day when Isobel returns to Dargenwater Cottage for that season; it will be a great delight to me to see her and Lord F again.

  Sophy will miss her governess, but I will take her in hand for a bit, and then we will possibly send her to Edinburgh to a finishing academy, though it will make me very sad to part with her for even one year. Still, Lord G promises me that we will visit her often, and so I am somewhat consoled.

  So, dear sister, you see that I am the most fortunate of creatures. When I think back to a year ago and realize all that has changed, I am astounded. I have seen three weddings this year, and each one of them seemed at times to be impossible! But we are all very contented, though I cannot but think that, no matter how much Lord and Lady Francis care for each other, or how glad that Mrs. Beattie is to have finally been able to marry Mr. Beattie, Lord G and I are the luckiest of all. For I never tire of talking to him and being at his side, and he has only the kindest and gentlest words for me. I am the most blessed of women.

  Finally, my dear, I will tell you my greatest news! I am enceinte, and hope to deliver a healthy son or daughter before the first anniversary of my wedding! I had some thoughts when we were in London that I might be breeding, and the last month has shown to me that I truly am. Lord G is delighted, and speaks of christenings and names, though if it is a boy I think we should name it Euan, as that is a name I truly love. So, I hope that you and Mr. Benderly will consider a visit to Glencairn Castle at Christmas this year, and we can celebrate the birth of your niece or nephew and my own great happiness!

  Affectionately,

  Harriet

  A Word from the Author:

  I hope you enjoyed reading The Yuletide Countess It was so gratifying to see Harriet have her Happy Ever After with Glencairn. It’s always been my belief that it’s never too late for anything, be it adventures, learning, and even love.

  If you liked this book, would you consider reviewing it on Amazon? It's very helpful to me as an author and to your fellow readers. I'd really appreciate your contribution!

  Please also consider visiting my website: www.aheyerlove.com for blog updates, etc.

  You can also follow me on Twitter, @QuigleyAlicia, where I share updates as well as links to other books you may enjoy.

  I'm on Facebook and Pinterest, too!

  Join me for Alicia's Afternoon Tea, by following this link to subscribe to my newsletter:

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  Other Titles by this Author:

  A Most Unusual Situation: A Traditional Version Georgian Romance

  (Sweet, no sex; based on a true story; Allegra and Adam's tale)

  A Duchess Enraged: An After Dark Version Georgian Romance

  (The explicitly sexy version of Allegra and Adam's tale)

  The Secret Bluestocking: Isobel's Traditional Regency Romance

  (Sweet, no sex; Isobel and Francis' unconventional adventures)

  A Lady of Passion: Isobel’s After Dark Regency Romance

  (The explicitly sexy telling of Isobel and Francis' story)

  That Infamous Pearl: Rowena’s Traditional Regency Romance

  (The sweet, no sex tale of Rowena & Alaric’s romantic mystery)

  A Collector’s Item: Rowena’s After Dark Regency Romance

  (The very sexy version of Rowena & Alaric’s adventures)

  Sense & Sensuality: Caroline’s After Dark Georgian Romance

  (The incredibly sexy tale of how staid Caroline & roguish Tristan find each other)

  COMING SOON!

  An Honest Deception: Letitia’s Traditional Regency Romance. If you remember, Isobel (of The Secret Bluestocking and A Lady of Passion) had a good friend with a beastly husband. An Honest Deception is the tale of that friend, Letitia, and what happens after the events of The Secret Bluestocking. Read on for a sneak peek!

  An Honest Deception

  Chapter 1

  It was a January day in Wales and the skies were blanketed with those peculiarly English low-lying clouds that enclose the world and make it small. A light snow fell, and the damp permeated everything, no stone, no plant, no animal could be immune. Morgan Place would have fared ill in this unforgiving light even if the gravel of the drive had been recently refreshed, the shrubs which ornamented it trimmed of late, and the building subjected to proper upkeep. As it was, the dilapidation of the estate was obvious as an elegant traveling carriage, perched on the best springs and pulled by a team of very sweet-goers bowled up to the house. The door of the chaise opened and a modishly dressed gentleman sprang out, his fair hair ruffled slightly in the wind. He waited as the coachman pulled down the steps and then handed out an extremely fine lady, whose traveling dress of grey silk twill was in the first stare of fashion and became her tall figure admirably. Her auburn tresses were dressed rather severely and her hands were inserted in a large sable muff.

  “Are there no servants here to assist Grissom with the horses?” wondered the gentleman aloud.

  “There may not be. You know how very reduced Letty’s circumstances have been,” his companion replied.

  The fashionable gentleman grimaced. “It seems you will have to wait a few moments for assistance,” he said to his coachman. “I will have the butler find someone to come out to you as soon as we are within.”

  The groom nodded and watched as the gentleman gave his arm to the lady, helping her up the steps to the door. It was swathed in black crape, and together with the weeping skies and the crumbling stucco of the house’s facade, the scene exuded a distinct air of gloom. A black bow was tied about the knocker, and the gentleman lifted it, rapping firmly twice. The crepe muffled the sound and the knock echoed hollowly. They waited several moments in the misty rain for the door to open.

  “Upon my word, Isobel, no grooms and now it seems no butler either!” exclaimed the gentleman. “Shall we be required to show ourselves in, I wonder?”

  “It does seem very irregular, Francis. Surely all of her servants cannot have left Letty at such a distressing time.” Isobel Wheaton, Viscountess Exencour, looked worriedly at her spouse and bit her lip. She was just opening her mouth to request that gentleman to open the door himself, when the sound of the latch lifting could be heard, and an ancient and very decrepit servant appeared. He looked inquiringly at the visitors.

  “Lord and Lady Exencour,” the gentleman said, entering the hall. He handed his hat and coat to the servant, and turned to help his wife remove her muff and cape.

  “Where is Lady Morgan, please?” asked the lady, somewhat anxi
ously.

  “Her ladyship’ll be in the drawing room where his lordship is laid out,” the old servitor responded.

  ”Well, show us there, man,” said his lordship somewhat impatiently. “Lady Exencour and I have made a long journey and have no wish to wait any longer to see her. Also, see to lodging for my coachman and provide some ale and food to the postilions so they can return the job horses to the Sun and Swan in Chester.”

  Lord and Lady Exencour followed the butler across the hall to the drawing room, where he opened the door and announced them in suitably dolorous tones.

  The drawing room had the air of a place where only money was wanting. It was spotlessly neat and clean, and the wood of the furniture shone impeccably, but light spaces could be seen on the wallpaper where pictures had once hung, and a close examination showed that the curtains, while clean, well-pressed and made of fine damask, were old-fashioned and growing somewhat threadbare. Toward the end of the room, there was a bier, with candles burning at either end of a coffin. It was draped in black fabric, and floral tributes were heaped about it. On a settee a young and very beautiful lady sat wearing widows weeds and a black veil, with two small children at her side. Several visitors were ranged around, talking in hushed tones.

  At the sound of their names the widow leaped to her feet and came forward. Lady Exencour fairly ran to her, clasping her in a warm embrace.

  “Oh my dear, we came as soon as we received your letter. What a shock it must have been to you.”

  “Isobel, you cannot possibly imagine how glad I am that you are here,” whispered the lady in black. “Alfred’s affairs were in such a tangle, that I cannot think what to do. There is no one I can turn to and the creditors are dunning me, even now, before his body is laid to rest. But we must not speak of it for,” she said, raising her voice, “here are Squire Musgrove and his lady, and the Johnstones come to visit me. Let me make them known to you.”