The Christmas Visit: Comfort and JoyLove at First StepA Christmas Secret

by Moore, Margaret

  In spite of the celebrations going on around her, Elizabeth found it difficult not to give in to the desolation she felt inside. The feasting and mummery and joyous marking of Christ’s birth and the end of the year all made it worse to be there and not be able to join in with the inhabitants of Lord Orrick’s village.

  The hostilities between the men and women who took sides over the situation of the Scot and the whore grew until the day after Christ’s Mass when she finally sought permission to go to her cottage. Lord Orrick looked as though he might refuse at first, however once Lady Margaret spoke to him, he agreed to her request and even sent one of the stable-boys along with some supplies. Apparently, he and the lady wanted some measure of peace in their household as the year came to an end.

  Now ensconced in her own place, with enough food and drink and peat to last for several weeks, Elizabeth decided to take the time to prepare herself for her new life. She understood now that in accepting Lord Gavin’s invitation and enjoying those last few nights of bliss with him, she had tempted fate or offended the Almighty. And her punishment had been the awful exposure of her sinful past before the man she loved.

  However, when she remembered hearing him speak of his love to her that night or when she woke in the night still feeling his touch on her skin, she was not completely penitent. Nay, she even longed for those nights and days when she had given herself to him. No matter the end they had come to, she would always treasure the memories of those nights with him.

  The sun barely stayed up a few hours that day and Elizabeth allowed herself the luxury of a candle until she was finally ready to sleep. The winds howled outside and the ground was now covered with a layer of snow. No one would be going out this night. Somehow the end of the year made her maudlin and she took out her mother’s ring and the silken scarf she’d managed to save from her life before.

  Holding them, she cried out all of her grief for all she had lost. The tears flowed freely, something that she had never allowed to happen before, not even during her worst and lowest moments. Finally, at some time in the dark of the night she fell asleep.

  The rapping on her door startled her awake. No fool would be out at this time in this weather. And she knew that Lord Orrick had announced that she would be leaving for the Gilbertines so that no man in his demesne would bother her. There was no one who needed her so she feared opening the door. Then a voice called out to her.

  “Mistress Elizabeth? Are you in there?”

  The winds obscured the voice, but she thought it might be the miller’s son. What could he want now? She unlatched the door but held on to the leather strap as tightly as she could as she let the door open an inch or two to see for certain. Aye. ’Twas Liam indeed. She let him in and pulled the door closed.

  He was wet and stood before her without saying anything. Then he stuttered some words to her in what sounded like Gaelic and held out some wrapped packages to her. He stood silently as she opened them to find a loaf of bread, a jug of ale and a chunk of peat. Just as she was about to ask him the reason for his visit, the door flew open and he was dragged out from behind.

  She went to the door, intent on following and finding out what had happened, when her path was blocked by a huge man wrapped in plaid. It took a moment for her to realize that Lord Gavin had returned and stood before her.

  “He got the words all wrong, but what should I expect from a scrawny, young Sassenach like that. He was supposed to wish you good luck and prosperity in this new year, but I do not want to tell you what he really said.”

  Lord Gavin crossed the threshold into her cottage and she backed away to give him room. The cloaks he wore were covered in snow and he pushed them off, dropping them in a pile by the door.

  “I would have been here sooner, lass, but I needed to find a dark-haired young man to lead the way in. I did not want to jeopardize your future by being the First Footer this night. Then I had to convince him to accompany me in the storm. It was not a pretty thing to watch.”

  Elizabeth could not believe her eyes. He stood before her and still she blinked again and again to see if he disappeared. He did not. He had been thoughtful enough to find the right man to step in her door this first night. She could feel tears gathering as she watched him smile and as the heart she thought was broken began to pound in her chest.

  “Ah, lass, I have so much to apologize for. Will you hear me out before throwing me back out in the storm?”

  “You are welcome, my lord.” His expression darkened and he frowned at her. “You are welcome, Gavin.”

  “May I sit?” he asked, pointing at the small bench. Her cottage did not have the fine furniture he was accustomed to.

  “Please. Can I get you something to drink? Or eat? I brought some of Lady Margaret’s wassail from the keep if you’d like.” She pointed to the small jug near the hearth. Then, Elizabeth reached for the bread Liam had given her. Gavin’s hand on hers stopped her.

  “First, lass, I have been waiting for weeks to do this.”

  He pulled her close and kissed the breath right out of her. She was weak—she did not resist the embrace or the heated kisses he touched on her mouth. Indeed, she opened to him and breathed him in as he tasted her over and over again. Then, in too short a time, he released her and stepped back.

  “If we keep up with that, I will never tell you what I came to tell you.” He began pacing the extent of the cottage. He could only take a few steps before turning back the other way. Finally he looked at her, took a deep breath and let it out, and began the story he hoped would convince her to be with him.

  “You gave me quite a surprise that morning, Elizabeth. Of all the answers I could have imagined, you being married was not one of them. Then when I heard your words, I wanted to kill someone.” His hands fisted as he remembered the terrible things she had begun to believe about herself. “True men do not blame women for their shortcomings or failures. True men accept their responsibilities.”

  “But my…but Gavin, I was the one who failed. I was the one who did not give my husband an heir. I was the one…”

  “Who did all that she could and still carries the guilt on her shoulders for the ruthless, worthless men who will not accept their part in her downfall.” She believed all the wrong things they’d told her. All the filthy names they called her. She did not believe she was worthy of forgiveness, and she had done nothing that needed forgiving. “I went to York to find the slime who you called husband. I needed to find out the truth.”

  “You went to York? You saw Kennard?” Her voice shook as did her hands. “What did he say?”

  “I did not speak to him. I spoke to your father and mother.”

  “My mother? You spoke to her? How does she fare?” Tears streamed down her face now and his heart was torn by the sadness he saw in her eyes.

  The poor lass. She had gone to her father when she’d managed to escape from the whorehouse in Hayton and he threatened to turn out her mother if she tried to seek his help again. Knowing it was her life or her mother’s, Elizabeth had walked away and asked for nothing. And the bastard had granted her nothing. His hands tightened again as he remembered wanting to strangle the life from his worthless body at his plain admission of abandonment.

  “She is well and being taken care of as your father promised. He is good for that.”

  “What did he say?”

  “I wish I could tell you otherwise, but he is unrepentant for his treatment of you or his desire for what Kennard offered him to betray you.”

  “And Kennard?”

  She looked as though she would pass out, so he gathered her close and sat down with her on the pallet. “Take a few deep breaths, lass.” When she had followed his directions and some color had returned to her cheeks, he continued with his story.

  “Kennard is dead.”

  “Dead? Dead? Did you…?”

  Perhaps it was his satisfied smile that made her suspect he played a part in the man’s demise. He could not help but be happy that the o
ne who had set out to destroy the woman he loved was dead and rotting in his grave.

  “I confess I would have if I had found him alive after seeing the damage done to you for naught but his own greed. But he died of consumption sometime after you arrived here in Silloth. And the brother whom he hated more than he hated you has inherited all that Kennard tried to keep to himself.”

  Elizabeth leaned back against him in shock from the news, but he savored the feel of her anyway in his arms after these weeks without her. Pure rage had forced his feet out of that room after she spoke of her past. Fury had driven him through storms and over hills and mountains to seek the truth that even she did not know. Anger alone sustained him and gave him the strength to search for the truth so that he could give her something of value.

  No one, not even the lowest creature on God’s earth, deserved the treatment she described that day and he knew that he must seek out her past. And give her some hope for a future. Even if she did not accept him, he felt content knowing that she had given him a reason for living. Even if for a short time, he was needed again.

  “My offer still stands, Elizabeth, although I am sure that you will examine the choices you have now that you are a widow of means.”

  She sat up and faced him. “What do you mean?”

  “Apparently, your marriage agreement provided that half of your dowry would be returned to you if Kennard should die before you. Kennard purposely kept his other deal with your father secret and never changed his will or the marriage settlement papers. So, the other half of your dowry was returned to your father. I confess I had to do some persuading, but I have a bag of gold in my cloak that belongs to you now. There is enough in there for you to go wherever you would like and live well when you get there.”

  Her mouth dropped open and he reached up and gently closed it. He could only imagine what she was thinking. The questions she must have. The choices she could make now.

  “Why? Why did you do this?” She pushed the hair from her face and rubbed her eyes. “You did not know me until just a short time ago. Why would you involve yourself in the cause of a stranger?”

  He smiled, knowing he had asked himself the same thing over and over as he traveled across the length and breadth of England searching for her truths. And he knew both of his reasons.

  “Part of the reason is nothing more than arrogant selfishness. After months and months of feeling unneeded by anyone, you needed me. You did not know that I would pursue this for you, but you needed to know the truth and I could find it out for you. I was finally needed and it satisfied something within me.”

  “You foolish man! You are needed. Messages have arrived almost daily asking about your return to your village. Asking for your guidance on matters big and small. Lord Orrick has felt quite put-upon trying to cover for your absence.” She touched his cheek and kissed him lightly. “You are needed.”

  She leaned back into his arms and they stayed just so for several minutes. Was he foolish? Was his arrogant pride standing in the way of accepting his true place in his family? Was there something that an old warrior could offer the new generation of the clan?

  “And the other reason you became my champion?” she whispered from within his embrace.

  “That should be obvious to anyone who has the Gaelic. As I told you that first night you gave yourself to me—I love you, lass, with all my heart.” He laughed now. “And I think you understood my words?”

  “My grandmam would say something like that, so I thought I did. But I dared not believe it could be true. A warrior and a whore?”

  “A man and a woman,” he insisted. “Elizabeth, I know you have the chance to start a new life wherever you’d like, with none of the past following you. I know that I am much older and you probably want a younger man, someone closer to your age. But I would ask you again to be my wife and come home with me to the Highlands.”

  She climbed to her feet and walked a few paces from him, deep in thought. ’Twas true—she could leave here and begin a new life where no one knew of the things she’d suffered in the past. With the gold in his cloak, she could afford a house of her own, servants, and more. She did not need him now that he had given her the truth. He waited, barely able to breathe, for her decision.

  “I cannot give you children,” she announced to him. “I am barren.”

  “I have bairns already, love,” he replied. “And they have bairns. I need no more.” He meant it. His need for heirs had been fulfilled in his first marriage. He was free to marry for love this time, if she would have him.

  “I had thought never to marry again, Gavin. Now, I do not have to and yet I find myself wanting to accept your offer.”

  “Then accept it, love, and be my wife.”

  As had happened the first time she came to his chamber to help with his bath, a myriad of emotions passed over her face. He stood watching, knowing that he could do nothing to interfere or it would be as worthless as her first marriage had been. Then a smile filled her face and she gave him the words he needed and wanted and longed to hear.

  “Husband and wife?” she asked.

  “If you wish it.”

  “And my past? Can you forget what I have done?” Her voice shook again as she asked this. He knew this was now the only thing holding her back from moving forward.

  “So long as you do not hold mine against me, lass. I am not the saint you believe me to be.”

  “I suspected as much. But since I love you so much, I will try to overlook that.”

  “You love me?”

  “Aye, Gavin, I love you and want to be your wife.”

  And, with her first step toward him on the first night of the year of our Lord 1200, Elizabeth gave him everything he wanted.

  Epilogue

  “You are going to be insufferable now, are you not, my lord?” Margaret whispered to her husband as they sat at table.

  The last days of the holiday celebrations continued on around them and everyone took part in the feasting. Pipers and other musicians made merry tunes that brought some to their feet in a dance. Orrick’s yule log, now much smaller, burned brightly in the large hearth of the hall, offering its heat and aroma to one and all there. This time of year was special to her husband, and her heart was gladdened to see that her preparations and arrangements had once more proved pleasing to him.

  “But my love, you were the one who first gave me the thought that they would suit well together,” he whispered back. “And ’twould seem that you were correct again.”

  Orrick lifted her hand and kissed it. He even turned her hand palm up and touched the sensitive skin of her wrist with his tongue, knowing full well what it would do to her. And she knew that the shivers that ran through her were obvious to him.

  “Two more of your wounded creatures will leave you now. Will you search for more?”

  He never looked for them, they always discovered him and the sanctuary he offered. And as she learned many years before, when she found him, he never asked anyone to leave.

  “I am certain that others will come, my love. Just as long as you are at my side.”

  He gifted her with the smoldering look that even now, after twenty years together, still set her heart to racing and made her palms sweat and her mouth water. The look that promised so much. The look that foretold of pleasures in the long nights of winter and love in the days.

  “I will always be yours, my lord.” ’Twas the truth. Nothing would part them. “Waes hael, my lord.” She lifted a cup to him.

  He lifted his to her and replied, “Drinc hael, my lady.”

  They sipped from their cups and she watched as Orrick surveyed the hall and his people, the smile on his face telling of his satisfaction with all he saw. His words but confirmed what she already knew.

  “All is well in Silloth. All is well.”

  A CHRISTMAS SECRET

  Gail Ranstrom

  Dear Reader,

  When I first started writing “A Christmas Secret,” I knew Charity ha
d a secret, but I didn’t realize that by the time I was finished, everyone would have one. The fun was in the unexpected nature of those secrets, and what Charity would do with the things she learned.

  Like Charity, I discovered that not all secrets are bad. Some are generous, loving gifts, given to spare feelings, protect pride, guard privacy, preserve friendships or avoid hurting loved ones. And to quote Sissela Bok, “While all deception requires secrecy, all secrecy is not meant to deceive.”

  I hope you enjoy the spirit of the season as Charity discovers her own secrets while she’s busy uncovering everyone else’s.

  Cheers!

  For my dear friends Gail and Hank Richardson, my real-life inspiration for Charity and Drew—and living proof that opposites attract. Forty-four years and still going strong!

  Love ya, babes.

  Chapter One

  Oxfordshire, England

  December 1819

  Andrew “Drew” MacGregor stomped the snow from his boots in the vestibule of Wyecliffe Manor and handed his coat to the butler. He’d arrived in Great Tew, Oxfordshire, earlier in the day and managed to acquire the last remaining room at the local inn before coming to pay his respects to his host for the upcoming festivities. The house would be full of guests, doubled and tripled in what rooms were available, and he was not about to share his bed. He’d even paid the innkeeper double to prevent such a possibility at the inn.

  The wide central great hall had been draped with evergreen boughs and the scent of pine permeated the air. Mistletoe and holly had been woven through cedar swags hung from the banisters and a fire crackled merrily on the hearth at the far end of the hall. The sound of laughter echoed from room to room, evidencing the happy, expectant atmosphere. Five days hence would see the long-awaited Christmas wedding of Olivia Fletcher and Edward Mackay.