“In the end, that is the best we could hope for.” Esme said sadly.
“James.” He said.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Please, call me James.”
“Very well.” Esme said and was glad that it was such a cold day and her cheeks were bright and pink already, for she could feel the flash of pleasure rising in her face.
“I know it was a dreadful grisly affair, Esme, but I did enjoy the time I spent with you last night.” He said as they approached a heavily frosted box hedging at the far end of the lawn.
“Yes, perhaps it would have been nicer under other circumstances. But perhaps, without the circumstances, we would not have spent any time together. It is a curious thing, is it not?”
“Yes, I suppose it is.” He laughed. “But I am pleased to find that you always think with such a clear and uncluttered mind. It is a pleasure to be in your company.”
“Not all gentlemen would agree, James.”
“Well, I am bound to tell you that I have longed for the company of a woman who is not afraid of her own intelligence. And your bravery too, hurrying to help the moment you realized something was wrong.”
“As did you.”
“I suppose what I have come here today to ask you is if you might give me the opportunity to get to know you even better. I would be very pleased if you would spend a little time with me in the coming days and weeks. Perhaps we will not have the luxury of so much time alone, but I must say that I have come to regard you very highly.”
“And I have come to regard you very highly, James. I would like the opportunity to get to know you better also. And we do, at least, have the next few minutes without the constraints of other company.” She smiled, knowing that they must soon turn back for the house.
But with a quick look over his shoulder, the Duke hurriedly led her behind the box hedging. He wasted no time at all in taking her into his arms and kissing her. Esme’s heart was pounding hard and she could hardly believe what was happening. It was such a wonderful thing, to be held so close and to feel his warm lips against hers.
And then it was over, as suddenly as it had begun. He had taken her arm again and was leading her smartly back towards the house.
“Forgive me.” He said, but she could hear a laugh in his throat.
“There is nothing to forgive.” She said, feeling her cheeks blazing hot against the chill of the morning.
“Thank heavens.” He went on. “For I rather took a chance there, did I not?”
“It appears that I am not the only one who is brave.” Esme laughed. “I am glad that you are here. I am glad that you came.”
“And so am I.” He said, patting her hand as it rested lightly on his arm. “Merry Christmas, Esme.”
“Merry Christmas, James.”
Epilogue
“So, what shall we plan for this Christmas? Our very first Christmas together, my love?” James said as the two of them sat in the drawing room of Burnham Hall by the fire. “Apart from the ordinary family things, of course, we ought to do something for the county.”
“Yes, I suppose we ought to.” Esme said thoughtfully.
The year seem to have flown and Esme had found herself surprised that becoming a Duchess had been the simplest thing on earth. There had been very little to adjust to, given that her new husband was so warm and easy in his manner. Everything seemed to flow when she was with him.
“We could have a ball?” He said and looked at her with his eyebrows raised. “Or perhaps even a masquerade ball?”
“Yes, a masquerade ball sounds like fun.”
“I suppose we could gather up some friends and family and put on a theatrical.” He said, and Esme could hear the mischief in his voice.
“Oh goodness, never again. I am thoroughly put off Christmas theatricals, James.”
“Even if that is the very thing which brought us together?”
“Even then.” She said and reached out to take his hand. “Although I will always be grateful that we did come together. This has been the very best year of my life so far.”
“With more adventures to come.” He said and laid the flat of his hand on the little swelling of her belly.
“Yes, this time next year we will have another to join us for Christmas Day.” She smiled, feeling the excitement of her impending motherhood.
“After all the years of searching, I can hardly believe that I now have everything in the world that I ever wanted,” James said and leaned sideways to kiss her ear. “And you really are everything in the world that I want. Now and forever.”
“And for all the years I gossiped about you, wondering who you would finally pick for a bride, I had never considered for a moment that it would be me.” Esme smiled shyly.
“Yes, what do you and your sister gossip about now that I am no longer a point of interest?”
“Anything and everything. Anyone and everyone.” Esme laughed. “That is a thing with sisters, my dear, gossip never runs dry.”
“I am so happy that our families are joined.”
“So am I,” Esme said, thinking how well everybody got along. “I do love you, James.”
“And I love you, Esme. I love you so much.” He said and finally kissed her.
“So, shall we say a masquerade ball?” Esme said when they finally broke their embrace.
“Oh yes, I think so.” He said, and they both laughed.
I hope you have enjoyed reading my Christmas Mystery Regency Romance Novella.
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And turn the page for the first five chapters of my full-length novel, Rescued from the tower….
Rescued from the Tower
Chapter One
Rowena stared out of her turret chamber window and across to the treetops in the distance. She had always liked being in the round room, its walls smooth and perfect as they encircled her.
It was high up, higher even than the upper story of the main part of Frinton Manor and afforded her the most wonderful view.
Not only that, but the turret caught the very best of the early morning sunlight in Spring and Summer which made up for the minor deprivation of the room being so small.
The room had painted stone walls which always made Rowena think of something more medieval than the building really was, especially since the rest of Frinton Manor was decorated in the most up to date colors and styles.
But Rowena adored the room, she was comfortable there, even if she was not so at ease in the rest of the house. The medieval style often sent her off on a pathway to some romantic tale or other, more often than not one in which she was rescued from the turret by a handsome prince.
She laughed at her girlish notion and turned when her maid, Violet, came into the room.
“Good morning, Miss Rowena.” Violet, small, dark, and pretty, bustled into the room with Rowena’s hot water jug.
“Good morning, Violet,” Rowena said with a smile. “And thank you.” She went on when Violet put the jug down on the washstand and pulled the pretty floral screen around it.
Rowena darted behind the screen and quickly washed, talking the whole time.
“It is a beautiful day, but is it warm?”
“The warmest so far, Miss. A real Spring day.” Rowena could hear Violet setting out her gown on the bed. “I’ve laid out the pale cream one with the short sleeves and the little blue flowers.”
“Perfect for a Spring day.” Rowena smiled to herself. “I think I will go out for a walk. A long walk.”
“You will need a light cloak with you, Miss Rowena, just in case it cools.”
“What good care you take of me, Violet.”
“I like being your maid, Miss.”
“And I am glad of your friendship.” Rowena said truthfully.
And it really was true; despite the difference in their stations, the two young women were close. If she was honest, Rowena felt closer to Violet than to anybody else at Frinton Manor, her own mother and father included.
Rowena had often wished for a brother or sister, someone to wander the grounds and the beautiful Derbyshire Countryside with. Someone to tell her secret hopes and wishes to; to tell her silly romantic dreams to.
But she was the only child of her parents, and Violet had become very important to her. It had been many years since she had first confided in Violet, and she knew that her maid had never let her down. Rowena could trust her with anything that was in her heart and often had done.
When she was ready, Rowena came out from behind the screen and stepped into the pretty gown as Violet held it out for her.
Violet had it fastened in no time, although Rowena was perfectly capable of dressing herself. The truth was when her mother had first decided she should have a lady’s maid, nobody had been more surprised than Rowena.
Lady Eleanor Lockhart had never been a particularly attentive mother, except to criticize her only child, and the idea that she would think Rowena deserving of her own maid to help her dress and arrange her beautiful thick hair had seemed so very out of character for the Baroness.
When Rowena had excitedly thanked her mother, it was to be told that any daughter of Baroness Lockhart should be attended to in the correct manner. To discover that it was for the sake of appearances rather than any particular care on the part of Lady Lockhart, seemed more akin to what Rowena had come to expect from her mother.
The relationship between mother and daughter was not a happy one and was often the subject of secret conversations with Violet. And Violet had always shown her kindness and understanding, encouraging her flights of fancy and tales of rescue.
“How would you like your hair today?” Violet said and began to untie the thick braid she had plaited her mistress’ hair into the night before.
“Perhaps just put it up quite simply, Violet, since I am only planning to go out walking. I doubt I shall see anybody at all.”
“Well, I shall keep it neat, just in case.”
“Thank you.” Rowena sat down at her dressing table once the braid was loosened so that Violet could brush her long, straw-colored hair. “But I rarely see anyone when I am out, and I know that my parents have no fixed engagements today, or at least none that I am aware of or invited to.” She shrugged and saw Violet’s look of pity reflected in the mirror.
Rowena shifted her gaze to the four-poster bed with its pretty green floral drapes neatly tied back and tried not to let her spirits sink. It was a sunny Spring day and she was going to spend all of it away from Frinton Manor; that would be enough to fortify her for a while.
“Your hair is so beautiful, Miss Rowena. So thick and strong.”
“Thank you.” Rowena looked back at her maid’s reflection.
“And it is so long that I think you could let it fall out of the window and allow a handsome prince climb up it.” It was clear that Violet was trying to perk her up again.
“Yes, he could climb up and rescue me.” Rowena laughed.
“And carry you off to be married before anybody could do anything about it.” Violet laughed, fully in the spirit of things.
“If only that were true. Not climbing up my hair, or even really rescuing me.” Rowena said as her gaze softened and the reflections in the mirror blurred. “But a good man, a handsome man, who would see me and want to take me away from here. How wonderful and romantic that would be.”
“That very man is out there somewhere, I am sure of it.”
“But my chances of meeting him are so remote.”
“Surely not.”
“When my mother and father never take me anywhere and disallow me friends and the ordinary enjoyments of society? Where am I to meet such a man? Probably not as I wander alone about the countryside on a warm day.”
“You never know.” Violet smiled, and Rowena laughed.
“Sometimes I think you are more romantic than I am, Violet.”
“You have romance enough in your soul, you just have to remember that anything can happen.”
“In that case, I had better eat a hearty breakfast.” Rowena laughed. “Tell me, was my mother taking breakfast when you came up?”
“No, she was not yet down.”
“Oh dear, then she probably is now.” Rowena pulled a face.
She did not want an otherwise fine day to be ruined at its very outset by happening upon her mother.
“Yes, I daresay,” Violet said and shrugged woefully. “But I could ask the cook to make you up a parcel to take with you. Just some bread and butter and some fruit, perhaps?”
“Oh yes, what a good idea.” Rowena brightened.
“I’ll see to it now, Miss, if you’re happy with your hair?”
“Yes, very happy, thank you.”
By the time Rowena made her way downstairs, Violet was waiting for her in the entrance hall. She looked furtive as she handed Rowena the small brown paper parcel of food and lifted down her blue cloak.
Rowena quickly fastened it about her neck and hurriedly took the matching bonnet and popped it onto her head. As she fastened the ribbons, she saw Violet’s mouth drop open and realized that her mother must be approaching.
“Thank you kindly, Violet.” She said, keen to release her maid and spare her any uncomfortable scene which might be coming her way. “That will be all.” She nodded firmly, motioning with her eyes that Violet should leave immediately.
“Why are you going out so early?” Lady Lockhart surveyed her daughter with thinly veiled suspicion.
As Rowena stared back at her mother, she realized that she had always felt suspected of something, even though there was nothing on the earth for her to be suspected of.
But it was always there, the idea that her mother expected something to happen; something she was trying to avoid. What that could be, Rowena had no notion. With no friends outside of Frinton Manor, she could not begin to imagine how she could even go about finding trouble of any sort. Her mother ought really to have been more at ease on the matter.
“I want to make the best of the day, Mama. I want to be out in this glorious sunshine.”
“Without eating your breakfast?” Lady Lockhart raised her eyebrows into a sharp arch.
“I have some food here.” Rowena held up the parcel and smiled awkwardly. “I asked that the cook make it up for me.”
“Why?”
“So that I might eat it when I am hungry.” Rowena said simply and wished that her mother would just release her.
“And where are you going?”
“Walking, that is all.” Rowena could feel annoyance rising.
Despite her best efforts to avoid her mother, still, the woman was managing to ruin the day which had hardly begun.
“Where to?”
“Why?” Rowena raised her voice a little. “What is it you suspect me of now, Mother?”
“I am only inquiring.” Lady Lockhart gave a very good impression of being offended. “Can a mother not enquire?”
“Of course.” Rowena said, knowing the best thing to do was go along with the charade.
And it was a charade, for Eleanor Lockhart did not have a maternal bone in her body.
“Well, I do not want you to be gone all day. You must be back in time for dinner for your father and I have something we wish to discuss with you.” Lady Lockhart gave an awkward smile that made Rowena feel immediately cautious.
“Oh yes?” She said as sweetly as she could manage, hoping that she would at least be given a flavor of the discussion to come.
“Yes.” Her mother said flatly. “But we shall come to that later.”
“Very well, Mother.” Rowena maintained her compos
ure and decided not to let the consternation of the looming conversation smudge the perfect blue sky of her day.
Whatever it was, she would worry about it when it arrived. There was no sense in spending the day wondering what on earth was coming.
Rowena looked at her mother’s face. The awkward smile had now gone, and she looked much as she ever did; a woman utterly displeased with life and everybody in it.
Eleanor Lockhart was a thin, angular woman with rather pointed features. Rowena could remember a time when the red hair had been vibrant and rich, but those days had long passed. Her mother’s hair was now faded but, rather than turning grey, the rich chestnut had been replaced with a washed-out looking color that was more like pale peach.
Her skin was pale and becoming ever more lined, a matter that distressed the vain Baroness daily, and her pale green eyes always looked a little watery, as if the woman was on the verge of tears.
All in all, Rowena hoped that she would never take after her mother in any respect, neither looks nor character.
“I suppose you had better go if that is your plan.” Lady Lockhart dismissed her own daughter as easily as if she were a servant.
Without another word, she simply turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Rowena standing and staring at her back, as was so often the case.
Why could her mother not be just a little more interested in her? It seemed to Rowena that she never had a kind word to say and she had sifted through her memories more than once to discover if she herself had ever done anything to hurt the Baroness so badly; something that had turned mother away from daughter for as long as Rowena could remember.
And her father was little better. Whilst Lord Edward Lockhart was never cutting or cruel as his wife often was, Rowena could not remember a single instance of him coming to her rescue, not even as a child.
He spoke to her with vague kindness but never seemed at all interested in what Rowena had to say. And it was true to say that Rowena had often found his disinterest as painful as her mother’s unkindness. What a pair they were!
The Duke's Christmas Mystery: A Regency Romance Christmas Mystery Page 7
