Holly and Hopeful Hearts

by Caroline Warfield

“Anna. Has Emily left already?”

  “Yes. Her mother is ill.”

  “Poor Jean. I am rather sorry to hear that. But what’s this about an invitation?” Anna’s mother smiled. For Anna, it was almost like looking in the mirror. With matching dark hair in curls near their ears and brown eyes, she and her mother even shared the same smile with small, pink, thin lips.

  Anna motioned for her mother to follow and retrieved the letter from the table.

  Her mother read it with interest. “Now, your insistence that you cannot attend… has this anything to do with a certain duke?”

  Anna placed her hands on her cheeks to try to cover her blushing. “Certainly not. As I told Emily—”

  “You know as well as I that the orphanage would be more than willing to accommodate you on any date that you wish. Nary a doubt they would allow you the chance to go to the charity ball.” Her mother looped their arms and directed Anna to the parlor.

  Anna sat beside her on the settee. “I thought you did not care for the Duke of Barnet.”

  Her mother pursed her lips. “You do know my thoughts on the man. He is nothing but a skirt chaser. I do not understand how you could possibly fancy him. His reputation is atrocious and—”

  “You do not understand,” Anna said. She took a calming breath. Her mother had a habit of being a tad overbearing. “With me, Benjamin is different. He is kind and charming and—”

  “If that is the case, why do you plan on hiding away? You must suspect he will go to the event?”

  Anna knew well the duke would go, but perhaps it was for the best she could not attend. “To honor you,” she said quietly, her hands on her lap. “To obey you. You do not wish for me to be with him—you have made that quite clear—so I must endeavor to forget him. Unless you might be willing to reconsider your opinion on him?”

  “Most certainly not.” Her mother sat up even straighter, if that were possible. “Dear girl, you must think more clearly, with your head grounded. You have a kind heart, but that giving spirit will only be devoured by a man like him.”

  Anna willed her tongue to be silent, but she could not bear to hear Benjamin spoken about so poorly. Given what her mother believed, it was no small wonder she so strongly opposed Benjamin. “You do not know him. Have the two of you even spoken? You care too much for gossip and your Teatime Tattler. You must realize that they spew vicious lies!”

  Her mother gasped. Her eyes narrowed, but then her expression relaxed slightly. “Even rumors have kernels of truth to them or else they would be only falsehoods. Other magazines have closed because they only spewed vicious lies, but The Teatime Tattler is not like that, and you well know it.”

  Immediately, Anna felt abashed and ashamed. “I would rather us not—”

  “Did you not read The Teatime Tattler just this morning?” her mother asked, her lips curled in a bemused smile.

  “I…” Anna flushed. “Perhaps…”

  “I happened to read a week ago that Katherine Warwick, the Marchioness of Bredon, has arrived back in London after all these years abroad. Do you by any chance remember her?”

  Anna shook her head, some of her dark curls falling out of her pins. “I confess I do not.”

  “Well, it was thirteen years ago. You were only four at the time. It has been many long years since last I saw her. She travels a great deal because of her husband. I cannot wait to see her again. Would you oppose having lunch with her on the morrow?”

  “No.” Anna slid to her feet. “Now if you will excuse me…”

  Her mother nodded.

  Anna swept out of the parlor and ventured to her sanctuary—her bedroom. Try as she might, she could not forget what her mother had said concerning kernels of truth. Yes, the duke charmed all the ladies, and he was friendly with them all, and some suggested he did not wish to marry for a long while yet… Perhaps her mother truly did have the right of it all along.

  Well, I won’t be going to the charity ball. I will not see him, and perhaps that will help to get him out of my mind.

  I hope.

  Chapter 2

  2nd October, 1812

  Jasper Warwick, Earl of Pershore and son of the Marquess of Bredon climbed out of the carriage and extended his hand inside to aid his mother.

  “Thank you.” She fluffed her skirt and took his arm. “You can smile, my dear.”

  “Indeed I can.”

  “Won’t you?”

  “No.”

  His mother heaved a sigh. “Do try to not look miserable. I have not seen Louisa in a rather long time.”

  “Ah, yes. We must keep up appearances that all is well.”

  She shot him a look, one that would make a lesser man cringe. “I do not appreciate your tone.”

  “Forgive me,” he murmured.

  “It is quite all right.” She patted his arm. “Come along now.”

  The manor was lovely, if a little on the small side. The lawn was well kept, and the bushes were full of colorful flowers. He caught a whiff of their sweet aroma as they made their way to the front door.

  “Chin up.” Mother smiled up at him. “Please?”

  The door opened, and a sharply dressed butler bid them enter, and they trailed behind him to the parlor.

  A thin woman with a kind smile, her clothes in a fashion Jasper hadn’t seen worn outside of older portraits, stood. “Katherine! It has been an age. How are you, my dear?”

  As the ladies became reacquainted, Jasper walked over to the mantel. The portrait hanging above was of a lovely young girl with brown curls framing her face. She couldn’t be more than five or six.

  “Jasper,” his mother called in a tone that suggested she had called his name several times already.

  “Yes?”

  “May I introduce you to my friend?”

  “Of course. I didn’t wish to intrude on your reunion.” He crossed over to them and held out his hand to take the countess’s. “It is a pleasure to meet you. I am…”

  Just then, a lovely lady paused at the doorway of the parlor. “Please pardon my tardiness.”

  She fiddled with the lace on her sleeve, which gave Jasper the opportunity to study her more closely. Her coloring—her eyes and hair and skin tone—all matched her mother. Imagine that. His mother had failed to mention that her friend the countess had a daughter. The lady also reminded him of someone else—the girl in the portrait all grown up.

  Given her dress and the way she fussed with it, Jasper assumed her to be yet another one of those vapid ladies who knew nothing about what truly mattered in the world. Still, he bent at the waist toward her. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance…”

  Her mother opened her mouth but eyed him and then his mother, a slight frown on her face.

  Ah, yes. Her daughter’s entrance had interrupted his introduction to her.

  He bowed twice more, once to each lady. “I am Jasper Warwick.”

  “My son, the Earl of Pershore.” His mother slid beside him, beaming. Then she glided across the floor to the young lady. “And you must be Anna! All grown up and so lovely, too. Don’t you agree, Jasper?”

  “Very much so,” he murmured.

  The introductions continued, and Jasper tried to be nice and charming and everything his mother could have hoped for, but his heart wasn’t in it. He had too much on his mind at the moment, and his heart, well, he would rather not think about ladies at the moment.

  Mother is quite cruel to have thrust me into this position so soon.

  But, like it or not, he would be here for some time yet. Luncheon hadn’t even started. Jasper fought back a groan. At least Lady Anna did not seem too keen on getting to know him, his only consolation.

  I would much rather be home right now. I do hope Mother has no other surprises waiting for me.

  But, knowing his mother, that was not likely to be the case.

  Chapter 3

  Throughout the meal, Anna found herself sneaking glances at the marchioness’s son, Lord Pershore. She had nearly tr
ipped over her feet when she walked into the parlor to see a strapping young man there, gazing upon her portrait. He had shockingly black hair, his eyes gray and without much warmth. His words were polite but a little terse, and she could not help imagining him into a story. Not as a hero. More a villain. Yes. He had plans to spirit away the beautiful heroine, and the dashing duke… er… the dashing hero had to save her from his vile clutches. Now when would the villain kidnap her? From where?

  She could make him a pirate. The last time she had visited the orphanage, she had regaled them with several already-penned stories by other writers, but a few of the tales had been ones she had conjured in her own mind, and she had a feeling the boys might appreciate a tale told partially by sea. Yes. Anna could easily see Lord Pershore’s black hair fluttering about in a strong breeze as he stood on the deck of his ship. He wouldn’t be dressed as he was now. Oh, no. He would be wearing—

  “Anna?”

  Caught unawares, Anna glanced to her right at the marchioness and smiled broadly to try and hide her lack of focus. “Yes?”

  “What do you think?”

  Anna stared at her mother and sent her a silent plea.

  “Anna is thinking about going,” her mother said smoothly.

  Going where?

  “The house party does seem like it will be a grand event,” the marchioness added.

  Oh.

  * * *

  * * *

  All of this talk about the house party. Jasper had no wish to go, and it seemed to him that Lady Anna shared the sentiment as she poked at her buttered bread. “Charity is wonderful,” she began.

  Jasper grimaced. The idea of a house party, of spending time with so many people after…

  He abruptly stood. “If you will all excuse me please,” he said stiffly. He nodded to them each in turn, grimacing under the disapproval his mother cast his way and ignoring the shock in Lady Anna’s wide eyes—had no one else ever dared to interrupt her before?—and he strolled out of the room and out of the house entirely.

  Rude, yes, and perhaps rumors would start here too, as they did everywhere he went, but he could not stand another moment here. Not after what had happened.

  * * *

  Jaw lowered, Anna watched Lord Pershore leave. Had that been a flicker of pain she had seen cross his sharp but handsome features? She could not be certain. Her mother always did say that Anna should try to find the good in every person. Perhaps she was only trying to find a kind reason for his abrupt and rude departure.

  “I do apologize,” his mother offered. “Jasper, well…” She shook her head and touched the gold chain at her neck. “I’m afraid he has had a trying time of late. But do continue, Anna. You were talking about charity; I believe?”

  So Anna launched into her story, telling the marchioness about her work for the orphanage, how she tried to brighten the children’s lives any way she could.

  “Last year, my Anna raised enough money and donated cloth to either purchase new or mend old coats for every child. She has a large heart and a good mind.” Her mother smiled at her, but Anna only frowned back at her as a terrible suspicion filled her.

  She wishes me to consider Lord Pershore in lieu of the duke. Instead of Benjamin.

  The thought churned her stomach, and she found herself unable to take another bite. Ever since she had met Benjamin, two years ago, she had fallen for him and looked at no other gentleman with interest. It felt strange, wrong even, to think about another with marriage in mind.

  I did say I would try to move on.

  But with the rude Lord Pershore? Surely her mother would reconsider given his actions. And he had hardly spoken, too. Pompous, entitled, a true villain. Yes. He would kidnap her… Why? For jewels. No, a chest full of jewels! She would have discovered a treasure map, committed it to memory, and burned it, which would spark his dubious attempts to convince her to tell him. Not even a threat that he would toss her into the sea would make her talk for he planned to use the treasure to…

  Oh, she really must write this story down so she would not forget one detail when regaling the children with it!

  Trying to hide her distraction, Anna forced herself to converse with her mother and her friend until enough time passed that she could excuse herself. From her bedroom, she secured a quill and ink and some paper, put on her pelisse, and retreated to one of her favorite locales outdoors—a huge boulder beneath the shade of a towering oak.

  Although her mind had been full of fanciful ideas while she had no quill in her hand, now the words would not come, and she struggled to write anything. She found herself looking at the sky, at the grass, at the trees… anything but the ink-splotched paper.

  A figure came into view, and she recognized Lord Pershore. He was walking swiftly, head down, hands in his pockets.

  Now where might he be going? Curiosity spurred her to leave behind her work, and she followed him at a distance to the stables, keeping out of sight. Perhaps her story was too much on her mind, tempting her to be sneaking about like this, but she wanted to see what Lord Pershore was up to.

  Caleb, the young stablehand, had been toying with a stick, tracing designs in the dirt. He glanced up and dropped the stick as soon as he spotted Lord Pershore. “May I—”

  “I do not need your help,” Lord Pershore said a little abruptly.

  “Are you certain? I can fetch—”

  “You can leave.”

  Anna narrowed her eyes. Who was Lord Pershore to send their stablehand away? Because Caleb did leave, looking rejected.

  Lord Pershore moved to the back wall and was reaching for a saddle when she could hold back no longer. She marched toward him. “What do you think you are doing?” she asked, her tone as sharp as his had been with Caleb.

  The man did not turn around to face her nor did he respond.

  “Have you asked for permission to ride one of our horses?” she demanded, hands on hips. Something about the man roiled her blood.

  “I have.” His movements sharp and jerky, he saddled a horse and climbed on.

  She reached for the reins. “I do not think—”

  “Excuse me.” He forcefully yet gently secured the reins from her and rode off, leaving behind a cloud of dust from the horse’s hooves.

  How dare he treat her so curtly!

  Determined not to waste another thought on the infuriating man, Anna opted to try her hand at writing some more. After retrieving the items she had left behind in her haste to follow the man to whom she was nothing, she sought out a taller tree, the tallest one on their land, and sat beneath its shade. The garden was nearby, and whenever she stumbled over the words a hero should confess to his lady, she would always stare at the beautiful flowers, and the dialogue would just come to her.

  Now, her anger contrasting with the beauty around her, the words flowed, and she wrote swiftly, describing in great detail just how vile and villainous the pirate, who looked remarkably like Lord Pershore, when she heard the thunderous pounding of approaching hooves. She watched, wide-eyed, as the horse reared suddenly. The tall, imposing, impressive figure of Lord Pershore was flung from the horse, which let out a loud neigh, stomped his hooves, and took off.

  “Oh!” Anna gasped. She shoved her work to the side, gathered her skirt in her hands, and hurried over to Lord Pershore’s side. “Are you all right?”

  He sat up and brushed dirt from his hands. His clothes were wrinkled and spoiled, and they matched the frown creasing his lips. “I am. Just go about your business.” And he waved her away.

  She had knelt beside him but now stood as he climbed to his feet. “I was merely trying—”

  “Go on now.” Again, he waved her aside. “I do not need anything from you.”

  “Such rudeness!” she fumed before she could stop to think if that was a wise thing to say. In truth, it was not, but it was too late to unsay the phrase.

  “Such forwardness,” he countered. He made a show of looking around. “No chaperone that I can see.” He dipped
into a low bow. “Leave me be.”

  Speechless, she stayed there, rooted to the spot, watching as Lord Pershore walked away in the direction the horse had run. He moved gingerly, and she knew the stubborn man had injured himself, however slightly. Why hadn’t he accepted her aid? Yes, there was no chaperone about, but helping someone in need could hardly be the source of scandal!

  Furious with herself and with him, Anna once more gathered her items and returned to the house. She gave her pelisse to a maid and then hid in her bedroom until she heard the clomping of horses hooves. From the window, she watched their carriage drive off.

  Goodbye.

  Chapter 4

  Only a few minutes passed before there was a knock at her door. Anna turned to see her mother frowning slightly. “You did not come to see our guests off.”

  “Forgive my rudeness,” Anna said stiffly. “I hope you made excuses for me.”

  Her mother harrumphed. “I should not have needed to do so.”

  Anna lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Mother.”

  “Anna.” Her mother took her hands. “Are you all right? You seem a little shaken.”

  “I am fine.” She struggled to smile. “With your permission, I would like to go see Emily. We are meeting at the park.”

  Her mother pursed her lips. “Very well, but we will speak more about this later.”

  * * *

  Emily’s mother, a good friend of Anna’s mother, came along to chaperone them, a fact Anna had deliberately kept concealed because her mother would have pressed to come as well, and Anna did not want to talk about the marchioness or her son. Especially the son!

  Emily looped her arm through Anna’s. Their chaperone watched from behind them, far enough that they might be able to converse without being overheard.

  “Are you certain you won’t come?” Emily asked.

  “The house party does sound like a wonderful occasion,” Anna admitted, “and it is for two weeks, and perhaps I am only making excuses…”