Biltmore Christmas

by Diane T. Ashley

  “Miss Caps, she claims she’s one of yours.” The man apparently knew Mama Elsie.

  “Charity!” Mama Elsie pulled her into the orphanage. “She is. Thank you for helping her, Mr. Wright. I shall tend to her now.” She nearly shut the door. “Forgive my manners. May I offer you something warm to drink?”

  “No thank you. We’ll be on our way.” The gentleman tipped his hat, and Mama Elsie shut the door on the cold, cruel world.

  Charity crumpled into a heap of tears on the sofa in the parlor. Selma brought her hot tea. Melissa wrapped her in a warm blanket. Between sobs she relived this evening’s heartbreak.

  “Charity, something doesn’t add up.” Selma’s brow furrowed. “Why would he invite you to the party, only to humiliate you? It makes no sense.”

  “Why did he lie to me about who he is? Was I only a toy to entertain him until his true love arrived?” She let the warm liquid trickle down her dry throat. “Whatever the truth may be, I could not stay and face an engagement celebration between Clay and another woman.” She sniffed.

  “I cannot see how this is possible. Something is amiss. I saw love in his eyes when he looked at you.”

  “Selma.” Mama Elsie wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Sweet, sincere, sensible Selma. Love doesn’t always make sense, dear.”

  Clay could hardly stand the slow pace the driver took with the horse and buggy. Had the season been summer, he’dhave climbed from the buggy and sprinted the last mile. When they finally pulled in front of the Biltmore house, his timepiece read a few minutes past six.

  He dashed from the buggy, stopping a few steps up the walk. “Mother and Father, might I beg your forgiveness? I must find Charity. Please make yourself at home, and we shall meet up with you within moments, I hope.”

  “Go.” His mother’s smile said she expected nothing less. “Go to your love. We will be fine.”

  He rushed to the library, nearly running over a party guest. “Please excuse me,” he called back without even slowing his pace. He searched the library, but no Charity. On his way out, the banner caught his attention. Please, Lord, tell me this isn’t so.

  In the main hall he found Elizabeth, chatting with a group of guests.

  “Elizabeth, I must see you now.” Grabbing her arm, he pulled her into a quiet, uninhabited corner. “What have you done?” Though he longed to yell at the top of his lungs and shake his cousin until her teeth rattled, he did neither.

  “Please refrain from wrath. This is for your own good.” She appeared unaffected by his anger.

  “Where is Charity?” he asked through gritted teeth.

  “I have no idea. Last I saw her, she ran from the library like a hunted deer.”

  Charity had seen the banner and must have gone home to the orphanage. It was, after all, her safe haven.

  “I am going to find her.” He enunciated each word with care. “And when I do, we will return for our engagementparty and every trace of Eunice had better be gone. This party is for me and Charity, so you have a lot of apologizing and explaining to do while I’m gone. Do you understand?”

  His parents joined them, each kissing Elizabeth on both cheeks. “Son, what is going on?”

  In a very abbreviated version, Clay updated them.

  “Please talk some sense into him,” Elizabeth pleaded. “Or you soon will have a servant as a daughter-in-law.”

  “We want whomever Clay wants.” He knew his mother believed in true love and appreciated her defense.

  “My father said you’d respond that way. Foolish choice.” Elizabeth huffed away.

  “I’m going after Charity,” Clay informed his parents.

  “We’d expect nothing less. After all, you’re a Claybrook, and we fight for the important things in life.” His dad slapped him on the back.

  “Family, honor, love.” His mother quoted those often-heard words. His own version of the motto started with God, and he prayed one day theirs would, too.

  Clay returned to the buggy with the hired driver who brought them from the train station. He’d rather take Buck, but it would be hard to accommodate Charity in that full red dress. “Lord, please go before me and prepare the way. Give Charity a forgiving heart.” He whispered pleas all the way to the orphanage.

  Miss Caps answered his knock.

  “There has been a terrible manipulation of circumstances by my cousin. May I see Charity and explain?”

  By the set of her jaw, Clay wasn’t sure she’d let him in.

  “Are you engaged?”

  “No, ma’am, but I hope to be tonight.” He pulled a ring from his pocket, touching his index finger to his lips.

  Miss Caps nodded and stepped aside.

  Clay entered. She motioned toward the kitchen. Sitting at the table with her two sisters, Charity wore an unfamiliar day dress and ate a bowl of soup. His heart constricted at the sight of her. He knelt beside his beloved. Those beautiful blue eyes reflected uncertainty and mistrust.

  “I’m sorry.”

  She rose from the seat, moving away from him. Would she ever forgive him? Her gaze accused him of unpardonable sin.

  “Girls.” Miss Caps motioned for Selma and Melissa to leave them alone.

  “No, please stay. All of you.” His gaze settled on Charity. “I ask you to hear me out before you make any decisions. And the first thing you must know is that I am not engaged to Eunice Hopewell, nor do I plan to be.”

  “Were you?”

  “Several years back, but it has long since been over.”

  Charity said nothing, and he couldn’t read her expression.

  “The second thing you must know is that though I did lie about who I was, I never lied about anything else. The Lord dealt with me about the lie and has forgiven me. I hope with time, you shall as well.”

  Again, nothing but silence. She’d folded her arms firmly in front of her. Lord, please soften her heart. One word keptrepeating itself in his mind. Honesty, honesty, honesty. So no matter how hostile she felt, Charity would hear the whole truth from his lips.

  “I come from a wealthy family but do not enjoy the fancy parties and high society. When I moved here to build a house and escape New York City, I sought a certain amount of anonymity. I only desired to be a normal person, not dishonest. When I met you, I knew the difference in our stations would frighten you away.”

  Charity nodded. Well Lord, that is a good sign. Hope swelled in his heart.

  “You intrigued me.” He saw the red hue climbing up her neck. “I wanted to get to know you without my money getting in the way, as it always had in the past. I never knew if women cared for me or only my money. With you, I never doubted.”

  Her gaze had softened. She glanced at her sisters and Miss Caps. They each gave her a slight nod and smile. Boy was he grateful.

  Taking a deep breath, he continued, feeling more relaxed. “I did ask my cousin Elizabeth to plan an engagement party—for you and me. I’ve not seen Eunice in several years.”

  “How did you know I’d say yes?” The raised eyebrow challenged him.

  “You said you loved me,” he reminded.

  “I loved Mr. Clay No Last Name. I never loved or knew a man called Malachi.” Her mouth turned down, and her sadness hurt him.

  He took a step toward her. “Charity, you know mebetter than anyone on earth, even my own family. I’m still that same man.”

  “A very rich version of your former self.”

  He obviously never had to worry about Charity being swayed by his money. It repelled instead of drew.

  “I love you. Only you. I have no intention of marrying anyone but you. If you say no, I’ll go on alone.”

  Her arms dropped to her sides. “You have no feelings left for Eunice?”

  He shook his head, taking another step. “They died a long time ago. Elizabeth hoped to revive them. Frankly, she is a snob and has a problem with you being a servant.”

  Charity raised her chin the tiniest bit.

  “A problem I do not share.”
He took another step toward her, wondering if she could hear the pounding in his chest. “I think she hoped that if you were gone and Eunice waited in the wings, I’d see it as fate.”

  “But you don’t?” This time Charity took a step toward him.

  Reaching out toward her, he stroked her cheek. “I’ll give all my money away, if that’s what it takes to have you.”

  Her gaze never left his. “You’d do that?”

  Nodding, he said, “I love you that much.”

  She stepped into his embrace. Holding her close, he kissed her mouth, her cheeks, and her lips again. “Does this mean you forgive me?”

  “I do.” Her smile stole the air from his lungs.

  He bent one knee and lowered himself to the ground. “Charity, will you marry me?”

  She nodded. Tears glistened in her eyes.

  Clay pulled a ring box from his pocket. She fought more tears. Holding her breath, she watched as he opened the box. A beautiful gold band with tiny diamonds winked up at her.

  “It is perfect.” He did know her. She preferred simple to ostentatious. Slipping the ring from its satin cushion, he slid it on her finger and pulled her close. Laying her head on his chest, she loved him more than she knew was possible.

  “Charity, we are going to an engagement party.” Joy filled his tone.

  Her two sisters jumped and clapped.

  “There is an engagement celebration tonight,” he announced, waltzing Charity around the kitchen. They only bumped into one chair. His huge smile matched the one that nearly split her face in two.

  “We can’t go to such an affair.” Mama Elsie shook her head. “We have nothing formal to wear.”

  “Ah, but my cousin does and owes me one very large favor.”

  She tied an apron over her dress. “You two must go on and enjoy your big night.”

  “I can’t wait to introduce my future bride. And much to Elizabeth’s dismay, the bride will be of my choosing, not hers. Eunice Hopewell will have no part in this party.” He kissed Charity again. “You, on the other hand, will be at my side the entire evening.”

  He touched the tip of her nose. “Where is that dress I sent you? I can’t wait to see you wearing it.”

  Charity and her sisters scampered up the stairs. He smiled at Mama Elsie. She came to him and hugged him. “Clay, you are a fine man. Thank you for loving my Charity.”

  He hugged the older woman. “She’s easy to love.”

  “That she is.” She stepped out of his embrace and began clearing the table.

  “I’m sending the driver to pick up dresses for the three of you.” He moved toward the foyer. “Do you have a favorite color?”

  “That’s not necessary.” She paused with Charity’s soup bowl in hand. “It will take far too much time. The evening is ticking away.”

  Clay smiled. “You are a selfless woman. I’d like you to meet my parents.”

  “We will. Just another time. Perhaps dinner tomorrow? I’ll be cooking, anyway.” She shrugged, but her eyes twinkled with joy. “After all, what are two or three more mouths?”

  “That sounds lovely. I will accept your invitation for the three of us.”

  After she’d finished tidying up, Mama Elsie said, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go check on the progress upstairs.”

  He stoked the fire in the parlor and paced around the small room. How long might it take one woman to dress? Finally he heard their feet on the stairs and headed for the foyer. The sight of Charity in her red dress nearly stopped his heart. Her eyes met his. Their gazes locked.

  He met her at the bottom step, taking her into his arms. “You, my darling, are beautiful.”

  Charity blushed and tucked her head into his shoulder.

  He glanced up the staircase at her sisters and Miss Caps. “I will indeed be the most envied man at the party.”

  Charity barely noticed the cold as she snuggled under blankets next to Clay in the buggy. With a slap of the reins from the driver, the team of horses lurched forward at a good pace. Charity shivered, though she thought it was more nerves than chill.

  Clay lifted her hand from under the blanket and kissed it. “You don’t need to be anxious. I will not leave your side the entire evening.”

  “Thank you. I was just thinking of the irony. I am the same girl who pressed the linens for the party and decorated much of the main floor. Now I shall be the guest of honor?”

  “And you will never have to press linens ever again or anything else, for that matter. You will have your own servants to do that chore, if you choose.”

  Charity had not considered the ramifications of marrying a wealthy man. The reality hit her at that moment. She’d be lady of the manor. It all felt like a dream.

  Glancing out the window, she caught sight of the Biltmore. The moonlight settled over the snow, and it glistened like a fairy-tale scene. “The house is ever so beautiful. I’ve not seen it at night from this vantage point before.”

  “It’s a lovely home. Ours pales in comparison.”

  “For me, that is a huge relief.”

  As their buggy drew near, Charity heard the faint sounds of music drifting from the house. Every window shonebright with light and cheer. The whole evening felt dreamlike and far beyond anything she’d hoped for.

  Clay helped her from the buggy. He held her arm tight against his side and she felt safe, secure, loved. No one could hurt her. Just inside the entry, a handsome older couple came to their side.

  “Charity, this is my mother and father. And this”—he smiled deep into her eyes—“is my future bride, Charity.”

  Mr. Claybrook hugged her. “We welcome you.” His father kissed each of her cheeks. “She is even more stunning than your description.”

  Heat burned her cheeks.

  Mr. Claybrook stepped aside, and his wife hugged her. “My dear, it is so good to meet you.” Her sincere smile and eyes put Charity at ease. “I look forward to the years ahead. We shall be the best of friends. Of that I’m certain.” And somehow Charity was certain, too.

  Clay placed his hand on his father’s shoulder. “They traveled with me from New York to meet you and share this celebration with us.”

  Charity’s heart overflowed with surprise and gratitude. She reached for each of their hands. Unshed tears blurred her vision. “Thank you both for coming. It means the world to me.”

  Clay’s voice broke a little. “Father, would you do me the honor of announcing our engagement?”

  They moved toward the main hall. All eyes were on them, but most especially on her. She kept her gaze straight ahead and a slight smile on her lips; after all, she hopedto appear pleasant. As they passed the library, she glanced in. The portraits and banner had vanished. Clay obviously wielded some power himself.

  Mr. Claybrook spoke to the conductor of the orchestra, asking for a drumroll. “Ladies and gentleman, my wife and I …” He reached for her and pulled her close.

  The simple gesture warmed Charity. Clay had a good role model.

  Mr. Claybrook cleared his throat. “We would like to introduce our son and his fiancée. This is Joseph Malachi Claybrook, who prefers the simplicity of Clay. And his beautiful bride to be, Miss Charity Bradford. His mother and I could not be happier.”

  The crowd applauded. Charity saw no sign of either Eunice Hopewell or Elizabeth Claybrook. The next hour went by in a haze of names, faces, and well-wishers. By this time Charity’s cheeks hurt from smiling. Clay kept her tucked against him through all formalities. This truly was a different world. She wondered if she’d awaken tomorrow and find it all to be a dream.

  As the crowd dwindled, Clay whispered near her ear. “I have one more surprise. Your Christmas gift.”

  Charity had nothing for him. Then she remembered the small stack of tender letters she’d written, sharing the deepest part of her heart.

  “It requires a coat, though.”

  “A coat?” She wondered if this wonderful night could hold any more happiness.

  H
e nodded, wearing a wide grin.

  “I must run up to my room. Will you grab my coat? I shall meet you at the side entrance. That way we can avoid a thousand curious eyes watching us leave.”

  “See, you are learning already.” He placed a quick kiss on her cheek. “I’ll meet you in five minutes.”

  She ran upstairs, nearly tripping on the hem of her skirt. Once inside her room, she retrieved the letters from her drawer. Taking one of her ribbons, she wrapped them and tied a pretty bow. Not an expensive gift, but in them she offered her love, her heart, her future.

  At the designated meeting place, he helped her into her coat. As he opened the door, a blast of frigid air hit her in the face and she shivered. He wrapped his arm around her, and they headed to the stables. Dare she hope? Her heart danced in anticipation.

  They stopped at Trixie’s stall. The mare, a giant red bow tied around her neck, welcomed Charity with a nudge. Charity couldn’t speak for the lump in her throat. Nor could she see well for the extra moisture in her eyes.

  “Thank you.” Her voice was raspy. She hugged him tight then held out the packet of envelopes.

  He untied the ribbon and carefully opened the top one. His eyes glistened when he looked up after reading it. He pulled her into his arms. “Thank you.” His voice sounded as funny as hers had. They laughed and hugged and kissed.

  “Let’s keep our engagement short. As soon as the house is done, we shall marry.”

  “When might that be?” She raised her head from his chest to gaze into his coal-black eyes.

  “Another month.” His words held assurance.

  “Until then, I’ll be dreamin’ of the day we’ll become one forever,” she promised.

  “What more could a man want? A Carolina Christmas with his very own dreamer.”

  His mouth found hers. The kiss sent tingles all the way to her toes. When he raised his head, love poured from his expression. “Thanks be to God who blesses us with so much more than we deserve.”

  Charity’s heart echoed the sentiment. “Thanks be to God, indeed.”

  Jeri Odell is a native of Tucson, Arizona. She has been married thirty-eight years and has three wonderful adult children, a daughter-in-law, son-in-law, and five precious grandchildren. Jeri holds family dear to her heart, second only to God. She thanks God for the privilege of writing for Him. When not writing or reading, she is busy working in the finance office of her church.