Dreams of Christmas

by Barbara Miller

  Chapter Five

  “Riding up behind your own coach,” Fisk grumbled. ”I hope we don’t run into anyone we know.”

  “What’s happened?” Vance shouted to Fisk across the top of the coach.

  “This isn’t just fun and games anymore,” Fisk said. “Her brother’s come to fetch her.”

  “But that’s terrible. I thought you said you had news.”

  “I didn’t say it was good news.”

  “Fisk, this could ruin all.”

  When the coach drove into the enclosed inn yard the driver stopped it at the exact spot Sarah would have landed if she had fallen to her death. Vance climbed down and stared at the icy cobbles. Then he opened the door and took her hand. “Sarah I have failed and our quest together may be over. But I will continue looking for your sister on my own. Is there a chance you might marry me someday even if I do not succeed?”

  She got out and cupped his cheek with one gloved hand. “You have done so much, including saving my life and convincing me Annabelle still lives. Even if we do not find her I will marry you. But why must we stop looking together?”

  A thin figure in black issued from the inn door and Vance felt like a betrayer as he saw Sarah’s sweet smile turn into a frown. Her brother did not resemble her much in that he clearly took himself too seriously.

  “Jerome, what you are you doing here and on Christmas Day?” she asked.

  “If you paid any attention you would have realized my Christmas service was held last evening and you were not there. I had to lie to my congregation about you being off visiting.”

  “Did you tell them I was visiting my sister? Do you in fact know where she it?”

  “That is beside the point. Why did you run away to this common inn?”

  “I came here because this is where Annabelle ran off to.”

  “More to the point, what are you doing here in the company of a total stranger? I must say I expected better of you and Miss Fetters.”

  “Lord Vance is helping me search for Annabelle.”

  “That’s absurd.”

  “Nevertheless it’s true,” Miss Fetters said staunchly as she got out and leaned on Vance’s arm in a speaking way.

  “Why would he?” Pelham asked.

  Vance was still reeling at the unexpected support from Sarah’s companion.

  “Because I have a generous nature and like a mystery. Young ladies of good family simply do not vanish from the face of the earth. How do you account for the disappearance of your sister Annabelle?”

  Jerome looked taken aback. “It’s nothing to do with me. What I want to know is why Sarah left home without a by-your-leave.”

  Sarah raised her chin. “How do you know I didn’t leave a note for you on the mantel and it accidently fell into the fireplace?”

  His face registered shock.

  “You see I found this the other morning.” She produced the charred scrap of letter. “From Annabelle and dated a whole year ago. You did hear from her and kept the news from me. How could you?”

  “The words were not for your eyes.”

  “Well, tell me,” Vance offered. “I am less likely to be shocked.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw Fisk flagging him.

  “You, sir, are beneath reproach.” Pelham looked down his nose at Vance.

  “Nonsense, my valet reproaches me all the time. If he does not consider me past mending why should anyone else? And you are a man of the cloth.”

  “We should not be discussing this in a stable yard,” Miss Fetters warned.

  Fisk came toward the group still flailing his arms toward the inn.

  “Since the coach is already hitched up, I suggest we journey to Vance Hall and settle this matter.”

  “Why should we go anywhere?” Pelham demanded.

  “Because your sister is freezing,” Miss Fetters replied.

  “In as few words as possible then,” Pelham said, “Annabelle ran off to marry a farmer without my permission.”

  “Then she is married and is she all right?” Sarah asked.

  “As far as I know, but you will not follow the same course as she. I will buy us seats on the next stage home.”

  “I won’t go, not until I’ve seen Annabelle. How dare you keep her fate from me? It’s worse than lying. You have much to answer for as a clergyman.” Sarah shook her finger at him.

  Pelham staggered back at this direct and justified verbal assault. Vance rather liked seeing Sarah on the attack. Now that she knew her sister was not dead she had gotten her fire back.

  “If I may have a word I have managed to engage the private parlor,” Fisk shouted.

  “Who cares about a private parlor?” Pelham asked. “I shall lay evidence against this man as a kidnapper.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?” Vance asked.

  “Stop it, both of you,” Sarah said. “Annabelle was eighteen last December 23 and had every right to leave if she wanted. And if you somehow manage to compel me to go home with you, Jerome, you will be the one guilty of kidnapping.”

  Once again her brother looked shocked. “Then stay with this libertine and destroy your reputation. See if I care.”

  “I’ll have you know I have not left her side these two days,” Miss Fetters said. Her reputation is pristine which is more than I can say for yours.”

  “The parlor?” Fisk pleaded.

  “Good idea, Fisk,” Vance agreed. “Let’s go inside before the ladies take a chill.”

  “I will not,” Jerome said.

  A sleigh pulled into the yard, its runners scraping on the bare places on the cobbles. Vance had to blink, for the vision that alighted was a copy of Sarah except that her coat was red as a holly berry. “Annabelle?” he guessed.

  The girls ran together and hugged each other.

  “There goes my fifty quid,” Fisk mumbled.

  “Yes, I am indeed Annabelle Briggs,” she said as she dragged Sarah toward them. “My husband Thomas is putting the team away.”

  “How dare you come here?” Jerome asked.

  “How dare you tamper with the mail I sent my sister? You didn’t get any letters, did you, Sarah?”

  “Not one, which is why I came looking for you.”

  Fisk clapped his hands. “Inside everyone, now!”

  To Vance’s complete surprise they all obeyed his man, though Jerome went somewhat reluctantly and probably only because of a need to argue his case.

  The private parlor, though it still bore some signs of recent occupancy, was warm and large enough for their party. Vance quickly ordered a substantial breakfast of ham, sausages, eggs, toast, jam and tea. Hah, even the resourceful Fisk had not thought to do that. He stood back and watched as a maid carried out dirty crockery and laid the table with a fresh cloth. The twins were by the fire talking excitedly and warming their feet. Miss Fetters was smiling at them from the settle.

  The driver of the sleigh came in and introduced himself. “Thomas Briggs of Briggs Farm near Oakley.”

  Vance took his hand. “Lord Vance from Vance Hall. I fancy our places are no more than a dozen miles apart.”

  “Did you say Lord Vance?” Jerome asked.

  “Oh, this must be the curate brother,” Briggs said. “I have words for you. If you ever interfere between these girls again I shall consider legal action. Robbing the mail is a crime.”

  “I meant it for the best. Having lost one sister, I didn’t want the other jaunting off with this libertine.”

  “I have asked Miss Pelham to marry me,” Vance said.

  “What? On no more than a day’s acquaintance?” Jerome squeaked.

  Vance wanted to protest that he had met Sarah in his dreams years ago but did not think that would serve.

  “That’s the way it was with Annabelle and me,” Briggs said. “I met her at Thiston market and it were love at first sight. But you, Pelham, would not even let me call.”

  “But you’re a farmer,” her brother complained.

  “One of the biggest farmer
s in the area if you care for such things,” Vance replied. “Briggs may hold more land than I do.”

  “Well, still I do not like to see both my sisters leave home.”

  “How very selfish,” Vance said, “when you could just as easily find a wife and make a family of your own. I advise you to sit and break bread with us if you do not wish to be estranged from your sisters for the rest of your life.”

  The door thwacked open but it wasn’t the waiter, it was Vance’s brother Robert. “So there you are.”

  “What are you doing back from France and how on earth did you find us?” Vance asked.

  “I got leave, of course, and by checking each inn along the way for your coach. I figured you had gone to ground in that weather.”

  “Sam Coachman was freezing. We had to stop.”

  “A wise move. I would have done so myself.” He pulled off his gloves and greatcoat and looked around the by now crowded room expectantly so Vance made introductions.

  Once Robert had sorted everyone out Vance said, “Breakfast with us. I have news.”

  “I suppose my horse needs rest anyway. What news?” he whispered. “Have you finally found that elusive wife you have been looking for?”

  The door banged open again as a serving maid came with plates and cutlery.

  Vance answered him with a smile and a nod toward Sarah.

  When the breakfast finally arrived Sarah looked across the table at Vance as he drew her brother and his to chairs on either side of him. Vance was a charming man if he could charm the likes of Jerome. And he was to be her husband. That joy percolated inside her the whole way through breakfast where it was decided that she and Miss Fetters would visit at the farm for the holidays.

  Annabelle was talking about the urgency she had felt in setting out to look for her sister when Vance got his puzzled look again and Sarah felt confused herself. “But I don’t understand. I know why I came to Thiston to look or you. I just found the letter on the twenty-third. Why did you pick today to look for me?”

  “I had this dream—”

  “Not you too,” Miss Fetters said.

  Annabelle nodded. “Last night I dreamed Sarah fell from a window, the window in this inn that overlooks the courtyard. I had the most lively apprehension that you were dead.”

  “I might have been if not for Lord Vance. He was there to save me.”

  “See, Thomas, I told you my dreams are real.” Annabelle looked smug.

  Miss Fetters rolled her eyes.

  After much talk of dreams and their interpretations Sarah noticed Pelham checking his watch and looking anxious. Someone had to decide when to take the next step so she suggested they leave for the farm and Vance insisted on them having the carriage for the journey.

  Jerome stood stiffly by the door as Sarah, Annabelle, Miss Fetters and Fisk exited the inn and climbed into the carriage. “I suppose you will ride with them,” her brother said.

  “No, I think you should go in the carriage and make your peace with them. Thomas Briggs has promised I may drive his sleigh and Robert will ride of course.”

  Sarah smiled at Vance’s sacrifice, but though the farm was only five miles away it would be a cold five miles. He had put her and her family ahead of his own interest and comfort once again. Was there ever such a considerate man?

  After the occupants of the carriage had talked themselves out and Jerome seemed reconciled to losing her, Sarah leaned back against the seat more contented than she had ever felt in her whole life. She was utterly sleepy with relief.

  The church in Thiston was aglow with candlelight blazing in all the window niches. There was holly and ivy everywhere and ribbons in the dark hair of the beautiful bride who was walking down the aisle. A solemn voice was intoning something about “things yet to come”. Then suddenly she was looking down to see a magnificent ring on her hand and the petals of a hundred Christmas red roses spread at her feet. Someone near the altar laughed and she thought it sounded like Vance.

  She sat up straight in the coach. “Are we there yet?”

  “Nearly,” Annabelle said. “You must have been exhausted from your search. You fell fast asleep. And you missed it. Thomas and Vance passed us on the road and Captain Brooks passed them but he had to ride back since he doesn’t know where he is going. They will be to the farm ahead of us and have all ready.”

  Indeed Vance was in the farmyard talking to Briggs and his brother Robert when the carriage pulled in. He went to hand Sarah down and she lingered near him as the others filed into the substantial farm house. She gazed at the cozy stone structure with lamps in the windows and holly boughs nestled on the sills. Yes, this looked like her sister’s home.

  “Is all made right with your brother?” Vance asked.

  “He is grumpy but reconciled. Miss Fetters is to stay with me which gives him an incentive to find either a wife or a housekeeper.”

  “Better a wife. No man his age could live alone with a single woman with any propriety.”

  She giggled. “I shall mention that to him. What about your brother? He doesn’t seem angry.”

  “Robert? Never. Once he drinks our health and wishes us happy he plans to ride back to Vance Hall and deliver the news of our safety.”

  “Will you be going then?”

  “Not immediately. Are you happy finally?”

  “Not completely. I feel bad at how I treated you.”

  “Don’t. I understand.”

  “But I should have given you some hope even though I was concerned about Annabelle. I should have promised you a future.”

  “I never lost hope because I have faith in you.” He drew her close to him. “You will marry me someday, won’t you?”

  She answered him with a kiss. “Yes, but Annabelle is increasing and I would like to be with her for the birth.”

  “I see Miss Fetters glaring out the window at us,” he said. “Well, not so much of a glare as a look of resignation.”

  “We had better go in. Are you willing to wait some months?”

  “Of course but I would like to introduce you to Mother in small doses. I suggest a visit to Vance Hall for the New Year before you come to it as the mistress. Then come back to the farm and have you time together with your sister. We will not be so very far away.”

  “Agreed.” As they walked toward the door she said, “I fell asleep in the carriage. Isn’t it strange that I should be riding in a carriage and not dream of traveling but of a Christmas wedding and in Thiston of all places. Annabelle wasn’t married there but at the curate’s house in this parish. I don’t know how to account for it. My dreams are always true, well almost always.”

  “I can explain that. You just have to know how to interpret dreams. On the twenty-third surely you were dreaming of your sister in the sleigh but that was in the past. And last night you dreamed of yourself being in danger. That was the present. What makes you think you were dreaming of your sister’s wedding? Recall you mistook yourself for her before.”

  “Could it have been my wedding I was seeing? That would make sense because you were there laughing.”

  “I should hope so. Playing the part of groom, was I?”

  “My dream was too short to tell. I hope you are the groom.”

  “That is in the future and a dream I have not had as yet though I think I experienced a vision of it in the church. Come inside and tell me about it at length. That is one dream I plan to make come true.” He walked her into the warm house to spend the rest of Christmas Day with her, the first of many Christmases they would have together.

  Idly he wondered what would have happened if he had met her two years ago. Perhaps neither of them would have been ready for marriage yet. But he was so grateful to have this second chance however that had come about, though dreams or the friendly spirits of Christmases past, present and future.

  He had known Sarah less than a day and she had changed his life profoundly. If her dream came true it sounded as though they could not be married for an entire year
, but he had lost all his impatience with life. A year spent getting to know Sarah would be like heaven and would only intensify his love for her. Now he had no doubts about the past, no fears for the present and only hope for their future together.

  About Barbara Miller

  Barbara Miller teaches in the Writing Popular Fiction program at Seton Hill University. She has published mysteries, young adult novels and historical romances, including one nominated for a Rita. She lives on a farm with her husband and a pack of unruly dogs.

  Barbara welcomes comments from readers. You can find her website and email addresses on her author bio page at www.ellorascave.com.

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  Also by Barbara Miller

  A Cotillion Country Christmas anthology

  Christmas Bequest

  Christmas Kisses: If Wishes Were Kisses

  Eye Walker

  Fortune’s Folly

  Governess for a Week

  Knights Errant

  Music Master

  Red Satin

  Reluctant Heir

  Two Hearts

  Viscount for Hire

  Print books by Barbara Miller

  A Cotillion Country Christmas anthology

  Christmas Kisses anthology

  Governess for a Week

  Music Master

  Reluctant Heir

  Two Hearts

  Ellora’s Cave Publishing