A Very Matchmaker Christmas

by Christi Caldwell

“Not yet, dear. No. But now that his name shall be cleared, he is going to be the catch of the next Season. Or he would have been, if you hadn’t got him first at this house party.”

  Pru let the letter drop to the coverlet. “Mother, are you telling me that you’ve been planning this all along?”

  “I’d never say that, dear. No.”

  Pru got the distinct impression that that was precisely what had happened, however. But it wasn’t that simple. “Christopher is angry with me. He’s not going to ask me to marry him.”

  Mama pushed a curl up into her coiffure. “Seems to me that you should tell him that you love him, darling. That has the strangest way of making people no longer angry with you.”

  Pru’s gaze snapped to her mother’s face. In the space of two seconds, she ripped the coverlet off of herself and jumped out of bed. “Mother, I do believe you’re right!”

  Her mother fished around in the now mussed coverlet to retrieve the vellum. “Don’t forget to take the Prince’s letter.” Mama pulled another paper from somewhere inside her gown. “He’s written one directly to Mr. Chance as well.”

  “Please set the letters by my overcoat, Mama.” Pru rang for her maid and flew over to the dressing table where she frantically began twisting her hair into a knot to pin it.

  Her mother did as she was asked, then she made her way toward the bedchamber door. “What are you planning to do, Prudence?”

  Let all things be done decently and in order. The Bible verse rang in Pru’s head. “First, I must find Christopher.”

  Twenty minutes later, Prudence had been informed that Christopher had for some ungodly reason decided to go sledding with the rest of the party. She and Jane—they of clumsy disposition—were not about to participate in such a sport. Death might be imminent for anyone with their lack of physical prowess who decided to hurtle down a snow-covered hill at an alarming rate of speed.

  “Tell me you’re not going sledding,” Jane pleaded as Pru pulled on her overcoat and mittens.

  “I am going sledding,” Pru replied. She also had (with her maid’s help) managed to tug on a pair of boots.

  “I’m coming with you,” Jane said, pulling on her own coat near a back door that led toward the stables.

  “To watch me die?” Pru asked.

  “To help however possible. Even if only to lend moral support.”

  “I appreciate that, Jane.”

  The two young ladies trudged out to the stables where they managed to locate the lone groom who had apparently drawn the short straw and was the only servant working on Christmas Day.

  “Good morning, William,” Jane said brightly. “Have you seen Mr. Chance today?”

  Meanwhile Pru was frantically searching the stables for Christopher as if she was hoping to find him hidden in a stall instead of having actually gone sledding.

  “He went sledding,” the groom replied in a friendly, crisp voice.

  Pru groaned. “I was hoping you wouldn’t say that.”

  “The entire lot of them left the better part of an hour ago. They began just over that rise.” The servant pointed outside to a spot that looked dangerously steep to Pru. More like a mountain, not a rise.

  Pru gulped. “I’m sure to kill myself sledding,” she mumbled to Jane. “But there is no help for it.” She turned her attention back to William. “Can you help me procure a sled?”

  William’s young face cracked into a wide grin. “Just a moment, my lady.” The groom disappeared into the back of the stables for a few tense minutes before emerging with a large wooden sled in his arms. He marched over to the ladies, set the contraption on the ground in front of Pru, and smiled at her.

  “Would you like me to help you get started?” he asked.

  Yes, please help me to kill myself. Pru pressed her mittens together and said a prayer for safety. “You’ll have to push me or whatever is done. I’ll never make it on my own. Push me in the direction of Mr. Chance if you please.”

  “As you wish, my lady.” The groom took up the sled again and left the stables with Pru and Jane on his heels. They trudged through the snow to top of the hill where Christopher had apparently disappeared earlier.

  “Straight down there.” The groom pointed and Pru bit her lip and peered down the slowly graded hill. “It’s fairly shallow, my lady. You should be fine.”

  “Are you frightened, Pru?” Jane asked, peering over the edge of the embankment with the same look of grave concern that most certainly was etched on Pru’s own face.

  Pru was trembling. “I know a braver sort wouldn’t be frightened, but having been clumsy my entire life, hurtling down an embankment, however shallow, is certain not to end well. Show me how to go about it, if you please, William.”

  “You don’t have to do this, you know,” Jane pleaded. “You can simply wait for him to return.”

  “No. I must go. I cannot wait,” Pru insisted. She nodded to William, hoping those were not to be her last words.

  William nodded back and situated the sled at the edge of the incline. He jumped onto the thing, demonstrating to Pru exactly where to place her feet and hands and how to hold onto the rope tied to the front of the contraption as if that would accomplish anything. “It’s simple, milady,” he finished, jumping back up and dusting the snow off his thighs.

  “Perhaps for you,” Pru mumbled under her breath. She said another brief prayer for safety. And added a quick one for luck as well. Under the circumstances, the luck one would probably be the most helpful of the two prayers.

  William pointed down to the bottom of the hill. “The guests who went sledding stopped at the bottom there, and just beyond those trees there’s a frozen pond. I believe some of them are ice skating.”

  “Ice skating!” The horrified words came out of both Pru and Jane’s mouths at the same time. Sledding was one thing, but using blades to scrape across thin frozen water where a certain chilling death lie in wait, that was quite another. There was no possible way she was going to ice skate. If Christopher was on the pond, she’d just have to stand at the bank and politely call to him to catch his attention. But first thing was first. The sled.

  William helped her situate herself on wooden slats while Pru squeezed her eyes shut and continued to pray.

  “You’ll want to keep your eyes open, milady,” William warned. “It’s easier if you see where you’re going.”

  “That may be a matter of opinion,” Pru informed him. “I’m not sure I want to witness my own demise.”

  Winnie came running up behind them, a look of horror on her face. “Pru, what are you doing?

  “I’ve got to tell Mr. Chance something very, very important.”

  “On a sled?”

  “It seems to be the fastest mode of transportation in this instance. If I die, please tell Mother, Father, Clayton and the twins that I love them. Oh, and you, and Lettie, and Jane, of course.”

  “You’re not going to die,” Jane said with as much conviction as she could force into her terrified voice.

  “I’m moments away from hurtling down a mountain covered with snow and ice on the back of a few sticks with a rope hanging from it.”

  Winnie rolled her eyes. “It’s not exactly a mountain, Pru.”

  Pru peered cautiously over the side. “It might as well be.”

  “Good luck and safe travels,” Winnie said with a bright smile. “Tell Mr. Chance I was rooting for him all along.”

  “Oh, me too,” Jane said brightly.

  Pru’s mouth dropped open. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “And spoil all the fun? Now, go on.” Winnie gestured with her chin.

  Jane gave her an apologetic shrug and said simply, “I’ll pray for you too, not that that’s usually my forte.”

  That would have to do. Pru took a deep breath. “I’m ready, William.”

  The groom bent down behind the sled and pushed as forcefully as he could with a loud groan.

  Pru shrieked as the sled hurtled down the embankment. Sh
e pulled desperately on the rope to no avail. She was a quarter way down before she figured out how to keep it steady.

  “Be careful, Pru!” Winnie called from atop the hill.

  “Try to keep the sled straight!” Jane added in a nearly hysterical voice.

  “Easy for you to say!” Pru called back, but she was no longer screaming—still praying a bit—when she realized she was . . . having fun. The wind in her hair, the feeling of rocketing into air, the freedom of it all was actually quite exhilarating. It reminded her of being alone in a garden. She closed her eyes and breathed the cold air deeply, not even caring that the wind was ripping her hair from its pins even beneath her woolen hat.

  “Wheee!” she called.

  But when she opened her eyes again she realized she was going far too fast far too close to the bottom. The trees were approaching rapidly. Why had she not asked William how to stop this contraption?

  She tugged so hard on the rope that the thing snapped in half in her hands. She was forced to grab on the sides of the sled with both mittens. She screamed and closed her eyes, sure she was heading directly into a collision with the first tree in the copse.

  She hit something. She felt it. But when she heard a muffled oompf she realized she’d hit a . . . person. And whoever it was, they were lying atop her now. The sled spun around and around and came to a blessed stop a moment later. Pru dared to crack open one eye. She seemed to be alive but who had she murdered?

  The body fell away from her when she came to a stop and she cracked open the other eye to see Christopher lying on his back in a foot of snow banked against a tree. He groaned and rubbed his shoulder. “Good morning?” he said.

  Pru leaped from the sled and slid to her knees next to him. “Oh, Christopher. Are you all right? Have I killed you?”

  “No,” he groaned, pushing himself up and propping his back again the tree trunk. “I’m not dead but apparently not from lack of trying on your part.”

  “How did you . . .? How did this happen?”

  “I was coming back from the pond and heard you scream. I tried to stop the sled so you wouldn’t hit a tree.”

  She cupped his cheeks with her mittens. “You saved me?”

  “I couldn’t very well allow you to smash into a tree, could I?”

  “Christopher, thank you. I was coming to see you, you know?”

  The look on his face could only be described as disgruntled. Not exactly what she’d expected.

  “Why?” he asked.

  She lowered her face to his and kissed his mouth. His look quickly changed to surprise. “Because I love you, Christopher Chance. I love you and I don’t care what your title is or if you’re a pirate, or even if you own a parrot.”

  “I’m not a pirate,” he replied.

  “I know that. I have the letter right here that proves it.” She patted the pocket of her blue wool coat.

  Christopher blinked at her. “Wait. You love me?”

  She nodded vigorously, her unpinned hair flying out from beneath her hat. “Yes, I love you madly. I finally realized that you were right. I was chasing after Lord Beasley because he was safe. He didn’t make me feel any of the things you make me feel. But I realized that the things you make me feel are the things one should feel when deciding to spend one’s entire life with another person.”

  Christopher had a funny half-smile on his face. “You love me? Mary Anne never said that she loved me.”

  “Mary Anne is a fool. Of course, I’m quite grateful for her foolishness, but she is a fool nonetheless.” Pru sat back on her heels and contemplated him. Her mittens on her hips. “This is the part where it would be quite nice if you would tell me you love me too.”

  Christopher’s face turned serious and he grabbed her hand. “Of course I love you, Prudence. I think I’ve loved you since the minute you rescued me from a hedge. But I’m not in a position to offer for you. At present I’m suspected of piracy. I must clear my name and—”

  “Wait!” She held up a mittened palm. Then she fished in her wide woolen pocket and dragged out the folded piece of vellum. The prince’s letter directly to Christopher.

  Christopher narrowed his eyes on it. “What’s that?”

  “Read it,” she prompted.

  Christopher quickly pulled off his gloves and tossed them to the snowy ground. Then he unfolded the paper and scanned the page.

  “The Prince Regent says they’ve captured Deveraux. They know I’m not a pirate.”

  Pru nodded, tears burning the backs of her eyes. “I know.”

  “He says it was a grave mistake and apologizes to me for any inconvenience it may have caused me.”

  Pru’s smile widened. “Yes.”

  “He says he’d be delighted to extend my letters of marque if I’m still keen to serve His Majesty on the seas.”

  Pru gulped. “Yes, Christopher. You can do whatever you like.”

  Christopher folded the paper again and put it in his pocket. “Just like that, my name is cleared.”

  “Mama may have written to him,” Pru ventured.

  Christopher’s eyes went wide. “Your mother wrote to the Prince Regent . . . about me?”

  “Apparently, she was rooting for you all along. Along with Jane, and Lettie, and Winnie, I might add.”

  “Rooting for me?”

  “Well, you and me,” Pru said shyly, glancing away. “And I never gave a fig about Lord Beasley and his dumb title. Arundell can have a hundred healthy male babies and I’d still want you.”

  Christopher pulled her into his arms and kissed her soundly. “I love you, Prudence Carmichael. I’ll love you forever.”

  She laughed. “Does that mean we’re engaged?”

  He pushed himself away from the tree and fell to one knee. “Prudence Carmichael, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” He grinned at her. “I even have a Bible verse for the occasion.”

  She looked up at him with eyes welling with tears. “You do?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  “What is it?”

  Christopher cleared his throat. “If they do not have self-control, let them marry; for it is better to marry than to burn with passion.”

  “Corinthians?” she sniffed.

  “Yes.” He nodded. “Furthermore, I promise I will never again be accused of piracy. Falsely or otherwise, because I intend to resign my commission and stay firmly on solid ground.”

  “But what if I want a parrot?” Pru asked, biting her lip to keep from smiling.

  “All right. I’ll consider a parrot if you will have me?”

  “Of course I’ll have you, Christopher. With or without a parrot.”

  He pulled her into his arms and hugged her fiercely. “Excellent. But let’s plan a spring wedding, my love. No snow.”

  Just before Christopher’s lips touched hers, Pru whispered, “Perhaps the Culpeppers will allow us to marry in their gardens. I’m awfully fond of that cherub statue.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Two hours later, Pru had changed her clothing to a fresh, clean, non-snowy red velvet gown and was wrapped up in a fur blanket in front of a roaring fire in the Westons’ library sipping chocolate that Jane had managed to fetch for her from the empty kitchens. Christopher was sitting by her side and Mama, Papa, Clayton, and the twins were all seated nearby. Christopher had already asked Papa for her hand and received an answer in the affirmative after Mama had explained to her husband about the letter from the Prince. Jane and Stephen had wasted no time telling the rest of the party about the letter as well, and even Captain Ponsonby’s cold shoulder seemed to have thawed a bit.

  “I daresay this is a Christmas our family will never forget.” Pru sighed.

  “Yes, it’s quite unforgettable,” Christopher added, squeezing her hand.

  Papa arched a brow and cleared his throat and Christopher reluctantly slid his hand away from Pru’s.

  “I suppose all’s well that end’s well, eh?” Clayton said, before adding, “I’m merely glad it
’s you and not me with the parson’s noose firmly around your throat, Chance.”

  Christopher grinned at his future brother-in-law. “Happy to wear it.”

  “I can’t wait to tell my friends in London that we have a pirate in the family,” Faith announced.

  “Oh, yes. We shall be ever so popular,” Charity added, nodding so quickly that her blond curls bounced.

  “I’m not a pirate,” Christopher informed them with a long-suffering groan.

  “Also Pru promised us a parrot,” Faith said without stopping to take a breath.

  Prudence choked. “Oh, um, er. I mentioned there might be a parrot.” She gave her younger sister her most intimidating glare.

  Christopher shook his head and chuckled.

  “Papa, did Mama tell you that all along she wanted me to be with Christopher?” Pru asked.

  Her father took a sip of drink which Pru strongly suspected was laced with alcohol. “I’ve learned long ago not to interfere with your mother’s plots, Prudence.”

  Her mother made a harrumphing noise. “Of course I wanted you to be with Christopher, dear. I’m no fool. The man is going to be an earl one day.”

  This time Christopher nearly choked. He grinned down at Pru. “At least she’s honest.”

  “But, Mama, he was a pirate,” Pru pointed out, plunking her free hand on her hip.

  “It’s true. I’d heard the rumors,” Mama replied, looking positively pleased with herself. “But there were other rumors, too. The ones that indicated it was all merely a misunderstanding. When I heard that Stephen was standing by him, I was convinced it wasn’t true. I took a calculated guess.”

  “A calculated guess?” Pru pressed a hand to her forehead.

  “Yes, and you’re to be a countess, dear. Well done.” Mama reached out and patted her hand.

  Pru turned to Christopher who just shrugged and laughed. “We can’t exactly fault her, my love. Clayton’s right, all’s well that ends well, no?”

  Pru continued to shake her head. “But she would have had me engaged to a pirate. That’s so unlike her.”

  The door to the library opened and Lady Weston, Lady Portland, and Lady Penmore came marching in. Lady Agatha was first to speak. “So, Clare, it seems your Prudence has also made a match during the Christmastide house party. As have Jane, Winnie, and Lettie.”