by Joyce Alec
Christopher smiled at her, inclined his head, and walked off through the crowd.
"There you are," she heard.
She nearly jumped in the air. Clutching her chest with her gloved hand, she looked up to see the face of Lord Langley staring down at her. His narrow eyes pierced her face, searching it as they always did.
"Oh, Lord Langley." She curtsied to him, and he inclined his head.
He looked quite handsome that night, she noted rather begrudgingly. He looked charming, refined, and dignified, and suddenly she felt as if she was a house cat in a room full of lions.
"Miss Blackmore, I made your cousin a promise, and I have every intention of keeping it."
Madelene would have groaned out loud if it would not be seen as a high insult to the gentleman. Instead, she masked her feelings with a wide smile and standing as her governess had always taught her. If she was going to have to be subjected to a dance with him, she might as well fit the part.
"Whatever do you mean, Lord Langley?"
He swallowed hard, looking out over the crowd, his jaw tight. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back. "I promised her that I would dance with you."
"Ah, yes, that promise," Madelene responded. It could not have been more clear that this was the very last thing that he wanted to be doing.
Was he afraid of who might see him with someone of lower rank than he? Did he fancy someone here and was worried about what the young lady might think if she were to see him dancing with another woman? Or did he despise her so greatly that he couldn't even look at her like a gentleman should when asking a lady to dance?
As if to counter her thoughts, he turned and looked at her. She was surprised to see there was color in his cheeks. "Well, do you wish to share a dance now?"
Madelene blinked up at him. How strange this man was. "Whatever will please you."
He held out a hand to her. It was trembling slightly.
She hesitantly took his hand, and he immediately closed his fingers over hers, and they made their way toward the center of the ballroom where other couples were gathering to dance. She was strangely pleased to feel just how strong he was, but she shook her head and reminded herself that she had very little desire to be doing what she was about to.
They fell into step with the other dancers a few down from Julia and her partner, and when Madelene made eye contact with her, she saw glee etched onto her face. Madelene tried to smile in reply, but she wondered if it appeared to be more of a grimace.
The dance began, and Madelene heard the couples around them talking and laughing together, while Lord Langley's jaw was shut tight, and his eyes everywhere apart from on her.
"So, Lord Langley, this is quite the ball, is it not?" She attempted, not able to stand the quiet any longer.
Lord Langley cleared his throat. "Indeed, your uncle has spared no expense it seems to please his daughter."
Madelene felt frustration rise as he had responded in such a way as to ensure she had little to work with in terms of conversation. She tried again. "I believe you are correct. And how are you this evening, Lord Langley?"
"Quite well. And yourself?" He asked, the tone of his voice flat and plain.
She felt another prick of anger. "I am well, thank you for asking, Sir."
Quiet fell upon them once more, and Madelene found herself even more frustrated with the gentleman for not attempting to keep her entertained in the way that the other men around them were. Did he find this dance just so horrendous?
She remembered the look on his face when his mother was discussing their holiday plans with Aunt Edith, and she felt her anger burst and fade away like a mist in the dawn. He, too, had part of his family missing, home with the Lord.
"I beg your pardon, Lord Langley, but I heard your mother discussing your plans for Christmas."
He looked down at her. "Oh, yes. Quite fine, honestly. I prefer a quieter holiday."
She sighed, and wondered if perhaps she were about to cross into territory that she would regret. "Did I understand correctly that it would just be you and your mother at home?"
He seemed to suspect where she was going, because his eyes narrowed. "Yes. Why do you ask?"
"I..." she began, feeling worried that she had made a mistake. "I wondered..."
"About where my father is?" He finished for her. His tone of voice gave her a start as she gazed up into his face. His narrow eyes had softened, and his jaw loosened. He took a deep breath and nodded his head. "My father went home to be with the Lord two years ago. He had taken ill, and unfortunately, his fever was too high, and the doctors could not discern why. He passed away in his sleep after struggling for weeks."
"I am so very sorry," Madelene said earnestly. She knew there was nothing anyone could say to ease the pain, but she hoped he would understand her sincerity.
"Thank you," he replied rather simply. "I apologize for speaking of such sad things."
"No, no, I was the one responsible for the topic of discussion," she replied. "Besides, I understand better than you might expect," she replied.
His eyes grew wide as he searched her face. "What exactly do you mean?"
She smiled sadly up at him, feeling for the first time as if she were speaking to the true Lord Langley, the one that her cousin was so fond of. "I lost my mother within the last few years as well."
Her words caused him to stumble ever so slightly and lose his footing, yet he recovered quickly. But the motion spoke volumes to Madelene.
"I..." he began, clearing his throat. "My deepest apologies, Miss Blackmore. I had no idea."
She shook her head. "It's quite all right, my Lord. I simply wished for you to know that I understand how difficult Christmas time can be now."
He studied her face with a renewed vigor, his eyes searching hers. She allowed it this time, realizing the vulnerability between them.
"Your poetry," Lord Langley began. "It is fueled by your grief, is it not?"
"My poetry?" Madelene asked.
The gentleman nodded. "Your dear cousin allowed me to read a sample of your writing. I do hope you are not upset."
Madelene felt her face flush, and she looked down at the ground. A moment in the dance separated them, and she wondered vaguely if she should be upset with Julia for sharing her writing without her permission.
"I wonder why she felt inclined to share it with you," Madelene replied when they were joined together again.
"Perhaps to understand your character," he replied. "And knowing now what I know, it all makes sense."
"What makes sense?" Madelene asked.
"The melancholy in your words, the wisdom you display... I understood it perfectly because of my own loss, but never for a moment believed it was a result of something that had happened in your own life."
She bent her head. How could she reply to something so perceptive?
"My apologies," Lord Langley said hurriedly. "I never meant to cause you distress."
"You have not," Madelene replied, but she was not sure she believed that entirely.
"You do have quite the talent," he added rather quietly, almost unsure of himself.
"Thank you," she responded, equally as quiet.
The song wound to a close, and all of the smiling couples around them clapped their hands and stepped away from one another.
Lord Langley and Madelene, the tension between them nearly tangible, split apart rather quickly. They didn't speak, just looked at one another, as if the rest of the room was vacant.
"Thank you, truly, for the dance," Lord Langley said, his voice gentle and quiet.
"The pleasure was all mine," Madelene replied and watched as he bowed and made his way from the room.
She stood there alone, watching the spot where he had been, feeling as if her heart had been wrenched open. The man who she had begun the dance with was not the same man that ended it.
5
The Dawn of Winter
Christmas morning came bright and frigid. Snow was inevitable, and Madelene
was pleased when she saw the carriage that belonged to her father pulling up the drive.
She embraced him, as well as her sister, and ushered them inside where they could get warm once more.
Shortly thereafter, another carriage approached the home, and Madelene’s heart skipped a beat when she heard the voice of Lord Langley drifting down the hall to where she, Julia, and Lily sat beside the fireplace.
“He’s here,” Madelene said, her eyes wide, looking at Julia.
Julia just smiled in reply.
“Who is here?” Lily asked, her legs swinging under the chair she sat on. “Who do you mean?”
Madelene signaled for her to hush and listened closely.
“Oh, Madelene? Yes, she’s here. This is her father, Mr. Blackmore, and we will introduce you to her younger sister.” Madelene heard her Uncle Matthew say.
“Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Blackmore. I have had the most pleasurable time getting to know your daughter.”
“The pleasure is all mine, my Lord. And thank you, my Lord. She’s my pride and joy, along with her sister.”
“If it is not too much trouble, Mr. Blackmore, I would like to see Miss Madelene and speak with her.”
Madelene’s heart started to race. He wanted to see her? Why?
“Alone, my Lord?” she heard her father’s voice, cautious and quiet.
Julia’s eyes widened as she looked at Madelene.
Madelene shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “No, I can’t! I can’t talk to him!”
“Yes you can!” Julia mouthed back quickly, and turned her head toward the door.
“Yes,” she heard Lord Langley reply. “If that is quite all right.”
She heard her father clear his throat, and she wondered for a moment if perhaps he would deny Lord Langley. For how would he know if Lord Langley was an upstanding gentleman? Of course he was, but her father would not know.
“You may,” Mr. Blackmore began, but quickly added, “But be sure you understand something very important. She is a rare gem; you will find no other like her in your entire life. Treat her the way she should be treated, and you will have no qualms with me.”
Madelene suddenly felt as if she would faint from a lack of air to her head. She felt as if the room around her was spinning. Did that mean…that her father expected Lord Langley to…
“Come, Lily,” Julia said, rising from the sofa and grabbing the young girl’s hand. “There is something I wanted to show you way up in my room! Christopher made me something very special that you will absolutely love!”
Lily did not protest and instead followed her cousin from the room.
She smiled wide at Madelene before they left the room and before Madelene had the chance to say anything more.
She heard footsteps down the hall, and then there was a knock at the door. Madelene stood to her feet, and as she did, the door pushed open.
Lord Langley’s eyes met hers from the hall, and she swallowed hard. He pursed his lips together before stepping into the room, letting the door close behind himself.
She had never before been alone with a man who was not family before. It made her chilled, and she folded her arms across herself. She knew there were people directly on the other side of the door, but it still felt foreign and uncomfortable.
“Miss Blackmore,” he began, and she was pleasantly surprised to hear that his guard was still down toward her. The coldness with which he once spoke with her had disappeared, and she was glad it had not returned.
He took a few steps toward her, and she had to force herself to remain in the same spot. He held his hat tightly in his hands, spinning it slowly, constantly adjusting his grip.
“I must apologize, first and foremost. I have treated you most poorly.”
She blinked up at him. “Whatever do you mean?”
He sighed heavily, and his eyes closed for a moment. When he opened them, she could see a great sadness in them.
“I made a grave error when I first met you. You caught me off guard in such a great way that I responded very poorly, in order to protect myself and my character.”
“My Lord, I do not think I understand,” she replied, the tightness in her chest making it difficult to draw a breath.
He crossed the distance to her, close enough that they could reach out and embrace.
“I…” he started, and his voice cracked. “I found you so beautiful that first night we met. There was nothing, nothing in the entire world, that could have prepared me for how I felt about you. It happened so quickly, and so strongly. I was immediately enraptured by your very presence, and…”
He turned away from her, pressing the bridge of his nose with his fingers.
Madelene’s heart felt as if it was in her throat, and there were no words that formed in her mind as a reply. All she could feel was disbelief. Disbelief…and a spark of delight.
“I didn’t know what to do, or what to say, so I simply pretended as if how I felt did not exist. Instead of treating you the way that you needed to be treated, I sought only to keep my own heart safe.” He turned back towards her, and she could see the sorrow in his eyes from the light of the fireplace.
“You must see me as nothing but a fool,” he responded quietly.
“No, not at all,” she replied, taking a hesitant step toward him. “I was completely bewildered by you, and I was sure that something I had said offended you in some way. I had no idea that you…” she couldn’t even bring herself to say the words.
“And it is entirely my fault that you thought that,” he replied.
“But then we danced at the ball…” Madelene said quietly.
His eyes widened, a bright spark flickering there. “You felt it as well? Surely it was not just I who felt it?”
She knew that at this moment, she stood at the precipice of something very important to her life. Is this truly what she wanted?
She looked into his eyes, and smiled, knowing for certain what she wanted. “I did feel it.”
Lord Langley beamed. “Miss Blackmore, I have searched long and far for a woman such as yourself. A woman who is so refined and composed, and yet writes poetry that reveals her soul. A woman who is confident, beautiful, and captivating. And here you are. It as if the good Lord knew what I needed most for Christmas this year.”
Madelene smiled. “So what does this mean?”
“My dear Miss Blackmore, would you do me the just honor of accepting my hand in marriage? I promise to love and cherish you in a way that a woman should be treated, and perform my God-given job as a husband to the fullest extent.”
Madelene, feeling a bit dazed, could only stare down at the man who knelt in front of her.
“Yes,” she heard herself say, and then the tears came hot and fresh on her cheeks. “Yes, Lord Langley. I will marry you.”
He stood to his feet and he embraced her, and she felt for the first time in many, many years as if she were in a place where she truly belonged.
That night, there was much cheering and singing and toasting. The whole family, elated and relieved, celebrated the newly engaged couple. Together they sang carols and hymns, embracing the special time together as families that Christmas brings.
“Every Christmas from now until my life is over will be full of joy now,” Lord Langley whispered to her in the darkness that night before she retired to her room.
She smiled at him in the candlelight. “May the Lord bless us and keep us, this merry Christmas time.”
Then, she bid him goodnight, knowing full well that her life was far better this night as she laid her head down to sleep than when she had awoken that cold, December morning.
THE END
Part VII
A Lady’s Decision
By Caroline Johnson
1
The Decision
“Mr. Barnes, you cannot be serious.”
It was well after midnight, and the moon was bright in the sky, glinting off of the pond of water beneath Lady Harriette’s window.
She was grateful that her room was on the far side of the manor, so she would not be discovered speaking with one of the farmhands so long after dark, not to mention unaccompanied.
The young man standing in the gardens below grinned up at her and removed his well-worn hat. He bowed deeply to her.
“I most certainly am, my dear lady! When have you ever known me to be a man of indecision or foolishness?”
She leaned against her palm, gazing down at him. She smiled and sighed dreamily. “Never,” she replied in a low, affectionate tone. “But this is all so sudden,” she replied, a little more firmly. “You cannot expect me to make a decision so hastily!”
He put his hands on his hips casually, looking to his left and his right before replacing his hat upon his head.
“And why not? It is what you want, is it not?”
She clutched at her dressing gown and leaned just a little further out the window, her heart slamming against her ribcage. “Oh, Mr. Barnes, more than anything! You know that!”
“Then why the hesitation?” he asked, holding his arms out in question.
She withdrew ever so slightly as she considered his words. She still clung to the front of her gown, as if her heart might escape if she relaxed her grip. She gazed around her room, her comfortable bed, and her full wardrobe. Her favorite book was perched upon her bedside table. The candle that her mother had given her the Christmas before last rested beside it, burning lazily in its holder.
The dress that lay spread out on her chair was the dress she was to wear to her coming out ball; it was a beautiful pale green, given to her by her grandmother. She was to wear it in a few weeks’ time when they traveled to London for the great ball.
A moment passed where fear gripped her. Perhaps later she would look back and realize that it was sense, in fact, that caused her to wonder if the decision she knew she was about to make was indeed, the wrong one.
But the handsome face of Mr. Barnes burned too brightly in her mind for her to think logically, and her heart was far too weak to resist his attention.
