Emily's Christmas Wish

by Sharon Stancavage

  Emily was frowning. What is she talking about? she wondered, and finally replied, "Really?"

  Victoria nodded. "Uncle Nigel said that sometimes people get hurt by other people, then they're afraid of everyone else, even people that want to help them. Is that true?"

  Emily felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach. Nigel was telling Victoria about her. I was so afraid that Nigel was treating me like Roger had, that I wouldn't even give him a chance to explain what happened, she thought, tears welling up in her eyes. And now he was gone. "Yes, Victoria, that's true. Sometimes people have a hard time seeing what's in front of their noses."

  Nodding, Victoria leaned close to the bed. "Can I tell you another secret?"

  "Of course, Victoria," Emily replied with a confidence she didn't feel.

  "When Uncle Nigel left, he asked me to pray that you wouldn't be mad at him anymore, but I don't think he wanted me to tell you," she whispered seriously.

  The tears fell down Emily's cheeks. Her heart was now entirely torn in two. "That's all right, Victoria—I don't think I'm really angry with him anymore," she said in a choked voice, and wanted nothing more than to be left alone to cry.

  Victoria brightened immediately and hopped off the chair. "I'm glad, Aunt Emily. Uncle Nigel thinks ever so much of you and I was worried about you being mad at him," the little girl replied as she walked toward the door. "Will you come see me tonight?"

  Emily managed a weak smile. "I'll try," she replied without any conviction. She had thrown away her only chance at love because she was too stubborn to listen to the voice of reason.

  "You don't mind helping us take down the decorations, do you, Emily?" Harriet asked as she put another bunch of holly into a pile on the brightly shining floor.

  Emily stood on her tiptoes and tried to reach another of the dozens of ropes of holly that decorated the ballroom. "No, not at all," she replied, finally grasping the rope and pulling it gently down. "We do the same thing at home every year."

  Harriet nodded, bringing a handful of mistletoe to the pile on the floor. "I suppose it is sort of a tradition to burn your holiday decorations on the Twelfth Night."

  "At least it is at our house," Emily replied, tackling another rope. "When are Lord Blackmore and his party going to come by?"

  Harriet smiled slightly. Emily was obviously coping better with the Nigel situation and her mood appeared to have improved incredibly. "I really don't know. But I'm certainly glad that you're no longer so blue-deviled."

  Emily smiled wryly and looked down at her black velvet dress. "Actually, I'm still in the doldrums—that's why I'm in black. But it isn't fair to you or anyone else to have me moping around for the rest of the holiday," she explained.

  Harriet frowned. "So you're still mad at Nigel?"

  Emily shook her head. "Not really. If anything, I suppose I owe him an apology for being so… stubborn. But I'm obviously not going to get the opportunity, since I probably won't be seeing him again."

  "Well, you can always join me in London when the Season opens. You'll have a fair chance of seeing Nigel then," Harriet added, the last bunch of mistletoe in her hand.

  "I don't think a Season in London will be the solution, Harriet. One does get tired of hearing the words 'ape leader' following one about," Emily replied, a cynical edge to her usually melodic voice.

  Before Harriet could reply, a great commotion could be heard in the hall toward the front of the house, and Victoria ran into the ballroom.

  "Mama! The mummers are here!" she exclaimed, her eyes shining eagerly.

  "Well, let us meet them in the parlor," Harriet said, and they all walked the carpeted halls to the Egyptian-motif parlor.

  Once the entire household was seated in the parlor, the festivities began. A light-haired man, dressed as a naval captain, entered the room dramatically.

  "I ask your pardon for being so bold, I enter your house since the weather is cold. For with me I bring the man we call king," he proclaimed, and waved his hand toward the door.

  A man, dressed in royal fur robes and a crown, entered the room with pomp. Emily immediately recognized him as Lord Blackmore, the host of the disastrous masquerade.

  "I am the King of England, I proudly appear, to find my only son, my only son is here!" he proclaimed, looking around the room.

  From behind the "King," a man appeared, tall and handsome, dressed as a warrior of old. His ancient silver knight's helmet hid most of his face, but Emily could tell that he had dark hair, rather similar to Blackmore's. The man paused before reciting, "I am Prince George, your valued knight, and I'll spill my blood for my country's right."

  Emily's mouth dropped open. Prince George was obviously Nigel.

  Fifteen

  As Emily continued to gape at Prince George, actually Nigel, the play continued. A gentleman, dressed as a Turkish soldier, joined the company.

  "From the land of Turkey I hail, I will cause your women to wail. I come to fight the King of England, I will challenge you on sea or on sand," the rather thin-looking "Turk" announced, his hand on his sword.

  The King strode forward to meet the Turk. "I am the King, as you see. These are my legions standing with me. If you challenge, your life will end, since on them my life doth depend."

  Nigel, Prince George, stepped in front of the King and faced the Turk. "I am Prince George, a champion bold, from near and far you will hear stories told. I have slain a dragon and brought him to slaughter, and as a reward was given Egypt's first daughter."

  The Turk made a show of looking Nigel over and then laughed in contempt. "You are a fool and a coward to me, it shall take no time to spill the life out of thee," he proclaimed, and men unsheathed their swords and began to duel.

  The players were furious, and the swordplay would have been rather terrifying if it had been real. In the end, the Turk "ran" his sword through Nigel, who fell dramatically to the floor, his knight's helmet dropping off in the process.

  "What have you done? You have gone and killed my only son!" the King proclaimed in a heartbroken voice.

  The Captain who proclaimed the entrance of the party of mummers stepped into the front. "Oh my lord, I know of a way, to heal his wounds and save the day," he announced.

  The King turned to the Captain. "Tell me, man, I wish to know, the way to cure my son's mortal blow."

  "A maiden we need, one true and kind, will help your son out of his deathly bind," the Captain replied, and the King and the Captain began to obviously scan the room for a maiden.

  The King walked over to Emily and asked, "You, young lady, will you help me? My only son's death I do not choose to see."

  Emily was mortified. The entire room was staring at her. "What must I do?" she said in a soft voice, her embarrassment very apparent to everyone in the room.

  The King took her hand in his and coaxed her out of her seat. "Come, my girl, come to the place, but do not be afraid to look death in the face," he said, leading Emily over to the place where Nigel lay prone on the floor.

  "You, young maiden, are you still free?" the Captain asked, and Emily nodded yes, since he appeared to be asking if she was unmarried.

  "There is only one way to restore his sad life, with a kiss and a promise that you will be his wife," the Captain announced with a slight smile on his face.

  Emily paled slightly. This was not any play that she had ever seen performed on the Twelfth Night. And she could obviously not kiss Nigel in front of the entire household.

  To Emily's horror, the King dropped to his knees and appealed to her. "I beg thee, my friend, his life should not end. Please give the kiss so a life he won't miss," he said, clutching her hands in his.

  Emily looked out at the audience, who now began to chant, "Kiss him!" Turning a deeper shade of red, she said, "Oh, all right," and knelt down to kiss Nigel gently on the cheek.

  Nigel looked into her hesitant green eyes and smiled gently at her as he stood up and faced the King. "Her kindness and love has brought life into me,
whatsoever shall her eternal reward be?" he asked the King.

  The King took a small box out of his pocket and opened it for the audience to see. It was a large diamond-and-emerald engagement ring. "My son, I do ask, before I give you this ring, will your heart be true, no matter what luck will bring?"

  "My heart will be faithful through thick and through thin, it is her heart that I live to win," Nigel recited, his eyes boring into Emily.

  Emily was still a deep shade of red. The audience, though, was leaning forward, eager to see the outcome of this very unconventional St. George play.

  "Very well, my son, the ring you shall take, and I only hope that your heart doth not break," the King said, handing the ring to Nigel, Prince George.

  "Will you take this gift to seal the rift that has broken my heart and torn my very sorry life apart?" Nigel asked softly, handing the ring to Emily.

  Before Emily could make any sort of reply, Victoria cried, "Take the ring, Aunt Emily! Uncle Nigel wants to marry you!"

  Emily giggled as she felt the love swelling inside her. She took the ring from Nigel's outstretched hand and he put his arm around her waist, bringing her next to him.

  "It is time to go, we must be done," the entire party began to recite, "The play is over, we have had our fun. We hope we have spread some Christmas cheer, and wish to sample your holiday beer!"

  As the entire household began to applaud, Nigel took Emily's hand and led her through the house, out to the garden.

  The crescent moon shone overhead, and Nigel let go of her long enough to walk over to the cobblestone wall that encircled the edge of the garden. He returned almost immediately, holding her pelisse and his Polish greatcoat. He wrapped the pelisse around her shoulders and led her to one of the trees at the far end of the garden.

  "If you'll notice, we're under Henry's holly tree. Didn't you learn about the holly tree at Miss Haversham's school?" Nigel asked softly, taking her cold fingers inside his warm, large hand.

  Emily frowned. For the life of her, she couldn't recall one single thing that Miss Haversham told her about the holly tree, or anything else, for that matter. "No, I can't say that I do," she said in a breathy voice that she didn't quite recognize as her own.

  Nigel smiled in the darkness. "Well, traditionally, anyone who has quarreled will settle their disagreement peaceably under the holly tree. And we certainly have quarreled," he said softly, his thumb tracing invisible designs on the palm of her hand.

  Emily looked up into his dark eyes. "I'm sorry, Nigel. I know you didn't take the mermaid, and I'm sorry I didn't give you a chance to explain." But she really didn't want to explain, either. She simply wanted to reach over and kiss the handsome peer who was making her blood course wildly though her veins.

  "Will you give me a chance now?"

  Emily nodded and moved closer to his tall, masculine figure.

  "I think I fell in love with you the first day I met you, when Wellington upset my horses and you ended up haring around the grounds retrieving my small clothes," he began with a chuckle, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I didn't expect you to be Emily Winterhaven, since Roger was rather… inaccurate in his description of you. In any case, I agreed to come to Harriet's Christmas party to meet you and see if you would sell the mermaid. And I did ask you about it, not long after we met. Do you remember?"

  "Yes, I told you it was a gift from my grandfather and that I wouldn't sell it," Emily replied, gazing up into his dark eyes that danced in the moonlight.

  "And I immediately forgot about it. I never really believed in the Manning Mermaid Curse in the first place, and had no affinity for the pendant at all. So how could I convince you to sell it back when it obviously meant much more to you than it ever did to me? That's why I let the matter drop and tried to enjoy the holiday."

  "But you did end up with the mermaid," Emily replied, oblivious to the damp wind running through her loose auburn hair.

  "Yes. I suppose you know that Lady Susan was under the misguided notion that if I had the mermaid in my possession, I would leave here and spend the holiday with her. That's why she stole it and gave it to me," he explained, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close.

  "But why did you give it back? I would never have known that you had it, or that Lady Susan had taken it."

  Nigel chuckled slightly. "Dearest Emily, I couldn't keep your mermaid, knowing how much you treasured it. That's why I had it returned to you as soon as I could."

  "It was your valet who returned it, wasn't it? While we were at church."

  "Yes," Nigel admitted. "Hughes did my dirty work so you could have the pendant back, since it is rightfully yours. After that, I rather forgot about it. I know I sound like a slow-top, but there it is. I was enjoying our time together so much, that everything else just became… unimportant," he said in a slightly desperate voice.

  Emily paused for a moment, then softly said, "But you had to know about my unfortunate alliance with your brother."

  "Yes, I knew. The reason I didn't mention the connection is purely selfish. I wanted to get to know you better and I was certain you would have nothing to do with Roger Manning's older brother."

  A sigh escaped Emily. "You're right. I wouldn't have given you the time of day."

  "There you are. I had no choice," he said passionately, dropping small kisses onto the nape of her neck.

  Emily curled up into his warm Polish greatcoat and murmured, "Your family will never accept me."

  Nigel laughed merrily. "I think I should worry that your family won't accept me. I'm sure that your father will be none too pleased when the Earl of Stratford comes calling to beg for his daughter's hand in marriage."

  That made Emily smile. "Oh, I think my father will be much easier to convince than your father. I met the marquess once while I was in London. You might find yourself permanently disowned for taking up with a cit bluestocking."

  The smile on Nigel's face continued to shine as brightly as the crescent moon above them. "My love, if I remember correctly, my father, who is the most difficult man in England, actually liked you. That's why he was so disgusted with Roger when he heard about his prank. So I sincerely doubt that he will be anything but pleased with our connection." He continued kissing her velvet-smooth neck, and murmured, "You never did answer my question at the masquerade."

  Emily was still silent. Her heart was beseeching her to proclaim "Yes" for all of the universe to hear, but a part of her wanted a little more. For all of her four-and-twenty years, she'd wanted a romantic proposal. Nigel had all but bungled the proposal in the library, and she wanted him to be… romantic.

  When Emily didn't reply, Nigel gently pushed her away and, to Emily's utter delight, fell to his knees in the ice and snow.

  Taking her hand in his, he softly said, "Emily, I want nothing more in life than to have you as my wife. Will you accept my hand in marriage and accept my promise to love and protect you until the end of both our days?"

  The tears of joy began to stream down Emily's pale cheeks. "Yes," she said softly, and pulled him off his knees. "I was going to say yes when you asked me in Lord Blackmore's library," she said, throwing herself into his strong arms. His lips met hers and proclaimed that their passion was almost hot enough to melt the winter snow.

  After a very long time, Emily determined that Nigel was quite accomplished at kissing. And that she enjoyed kissing Nigel probably as much as he enjoyed kissing her! Finally, Nigel released Emily and took something out of his pocket. It was a folded paper, and he explained, "Before Blackmore and I rewrote his Twelfth Night play, I managed to procure this."

  Emily squinted at the papers in the moonlit darkness. "What is it?"

  "It is a special license. We can marry whenever you wish, my dearest. Or we can publish the banns and have a wedding that the ton will not soon forget," he said, his hand running through her luxuriant auburn hair.

  Emily smiled up at him. "I must commend Lord Black-more on his creative talents. The play was ve
ry impressive," she said, reaching into her pocket and holding up the ring he had given her.

  Nigel took the ring and gently slipped it over the third finger of her left hand. It was a perfect fit. "It's quite real, you know. I couldn't go home and bring you the Manning engagement ring, so I had this one made. It will have to do for now."

  Emily smiled up at him. "It will do perfectly. You know, you really had no chance, Lord Stratford," she said with a mischievous grin.

  "And why is that, my love?"

  "Well, I decided that this was the year I was going to follow every Christmas tradition I knew to find a husband. I put rosemary and thyme in my shoes, and then I dreamed of you. That was the first sign."

  Nigel chuckled and lightly kissed her forehead. "There's more?"

  "Much more. On Christmas Eve, if you go into the garden at midnight and pick twelve sage leaves, you'll see the image of your husband. I had just finished picking my sage leaves when you came out and attempted to seduce me," Emily explained in a soft, seductive voice.

  Nigel ran kisses through her hair. "Yes, well, I am rather enamored of you, dear Emily. I wasn't going to ravish you, though, if that makes you feel any better."

  "Much better. Do you remember Mass on Christmas Day?"

  Nigel began to lightly kiss her neck. "Yes, you were wearing some sort of half-dead flower so I bought one from a flower girl and gave you a new one. That's hardly extraordinary."

  "Another Christmas legend. That was a rose I picked on Midsummer's Day. If an unmarried female wears the rose to church on Christmas Day, her future husband is supposed to come and take it from her," Emily explained patiently, quite enjoying Nigel's attentions.

  "And finally, the last Christmas legend. All quarrels should be settled under the holly tree. Everything is settled, isn't it, my love?" Nigel asked, his eyes wide with love.