An Earl for Edith

by Tammi Lee Bird

  He greeted Mother with a smile, and asked, “How are the preparations going?”

  “Good, everything is running smoothly.”

  “The winter picnic was certainly a success.”

  “So was the musicale. I hadn’t realized how talented Miss Trimble is at the pianoforte. Her music moved me.”

  “Yes,” he agreed. “What time are we celebrating the lighting of the yule log?”

  Mother smiled, the wrinkles around her eyes curving pleasantly. “I have found the perfect tree this year. I cannot wait to show everyone and see it burning in the fire. Such a wonderful tree is bound to bring a prosperous and happy year.” Christmas was Mother’s favorite season. When his father died, she’d been inconsolable for months. The only time she smiled that whole year was at their annual Christmas ball. The next year he insisted they invite more guests and have them stay longer. Hosting and helping her friends and neighbors had pulled her out of a long depression and back into her life. She thrived on social events and parties.

  At midday everyone gathered outside, bundled up in layers of clothing. Most only had a small strip of their face open to the elements. Three sleighs were waiting to take them to the grove of trees behind Avonview next to the river. Standing outside in the cold, Miles saw Edith for the first time that day. Her cheeks were rosy from the low temperature, and she smiled shyly at him from the other side of a group of people.

  Grace was standing next to her holding her hand. They looked good together, like mother and daughter. They split into three groups. His sled had his family and Edith’s. Her mother, father, and sister sat on one side while his family sat on the other. Mother winked at him as he helped her into the sleigh. A sure sign she had purposely planned on giving him time with Edith.

  “I love the tradition of going out to pick the tree and watch the yule log being cut,” Lucy explained with youthful enthusiasm. “What is your favorite part of yuletide?”

  His mother replied, “The food. I’m partial to plum pudding and hot wassail.”

  What did he enjoy the most? The sleigh jerked ahead and his daughter giggled in delight. “I love spending time with my friends and family,” he explained. “I am grateful for this happy time together.”

  They passed several good trees, on the way to a specific spot predetermined by his mother. All three sleighs stopped around a magnificent oak. The trunk was massive, and it was taller than any other tree they’d passed. It was perfect. He gave his approval, and they watched as six strong men from the village worked in harmony to cut the tree down. It fell with a glorious bang that shook the ground and scattered birds and other small critters away.

  The servants started singing a traditional tune as the men cut and trimmed the edges of the yule log and all joined in. Three songs later the men roped the log, and it required four large workhorses to move it back to the manor house.

  They entered the house through the servant quarters where hot wassail and plum pudding was waiting to be enjoyed. Next to the food was a pile of greenery to decorate the house. There were branches from evergreens, holly, and mistletoe stacked along the table.

  Grace ran to the back and shouted, “My favorite part of Christmas. Decorating! Who wants to help me make a wreath?”

  “I’d love to,” Edith said, “but first we must warm up with something hot to drink.” Once their wassail was gone Grace, Lucy, Edith, Lady Ann, Mother, and Mrs. Wilson went to work twining branches and holly together into beautiful shapes. Together they were able to make enough decorations to cover the Avonview Manor in Christmas finery.

  Mother pulled him aside from the rest of the group and showed him a lovely bunch of mistletoe. “I’ve decided to hang some mistletoe upstairs near the library this year.” Mother said with a smirk.

  “You’ve always left the mistletoe downstairs in the servants’ quarters. You said it wasn’t proper for gentlemen to go around kissing ladies.”

  “Proper or not, if it helps you get a wife, I’m willing to risk a scandal, Miles. No matter how old you are, you will always be my little boy that I want to protect. Give love a chance, I want you to be happy. That’s why I added plenty of berries.” She stood on her tip-toes, and kissed his cheek.

  Miles thanked her for the thought, while mentally reminding himself not to walk under the mistletoe. He also realized that the ball of mistletoe offered Sir Archibald an easy way to get Edith to kiss him. He walked back to the kitchen where Edith and Grace were still busy decorating and coughed to get her attention. Once she was facing his direction he waved her over.

  She stood and walked to him. The scent of lavender filled the air as she approached. She smelled wonderful. “I just needed to tell you my mother hung mistletoe in the doorway leading into the library. You are free to walk under it, but I have a sneaking suspicion that Sir Archibald will be keeping an eye out to meet you there.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Edith replied, “but I am curious to know. If for some reason I was to receive a kiss under the mistletoe, would you prefer to be my partner, or would you rather it be Sir Archibald?”

  She asked hard questions. “At the moment I am unsure. Both options would result in consequences I am unprepared for.” The sparkle in her eye dimmed as a small frown played at the corner of her mouth. He had disappointed her. She’d wanted a different answer, one he wasn’t ready to give.

  Edith shouldn’t have asked him about the kissing bough. At least he hadn’t said it would be better to lose a horse than to marry her. He was torn, that was something. Wasn’t it? Yet in her heart she had wanted him to pick her, to say it didn’t matter if they kissed since marrying her would be an honor. She really had high hopes after their meeting in the breakfast nook. False notions of love blooming between them had filled her head when he’d been clear from the beginning that he was only looking for a friend. He’d been so passionate that she’d thought he was starting to like her.

  Dinner was festive and delicious, though afterward she couldn’t have named a single dish she’d eaten. Her brain was occupied with one thought, love. More specifically, she was trying to figure out how to make a man fall in love. In all of the books she had read, it required a beautiful woman or a terrible foe. Danger was the only other way she knew to get a man to admit to his feelings. At least Ann Radcliffe implied that in her gothic novels.

  There was no villain in her life. The closest she could find was Mama, but she didn’t want that relationship to deteriorate. Then Sir Archibald crossed her mind. He fit the bill; he was handsome, mysterious, potentially dangerous. How could she use his reputation to make Miles perceive him as a threat he needed to save her from?

  She could write letters to him and make it seem as though they were about to run off to Gretna Green. Would anyone believe her capable of such deception? Perhaps it would be more realistic if the letters were from him begging her to elope. Then she would disappear and everyone would think he kidnapped her. Did kidnappings of that sort happen outside of books? If they did, they weren’t taking plain women without a significant dowry. Such fantastic drama was for the rich and beautiful.

  She liked the idea of making Miles rescue her from Sir Archibald, but there were two large problems with such a scheme. First off Sir Archibald would have to help her deceive Lord Camden. Second, she would have to be willing to suffer embarrassment, shame and ridicule for a small chance at love. Edith put the idea out of her mind. There had to be better ways to sneak into Miles’ heart.

  The dessert plates were removed from the table, and Lady Camden announced they would be lighting the yule log in the main hall. It was the only room with a fireplace large enough to hold the giant piece of wood. Edith followed her sister. She listened to Lucy and answered her questions, but Lucy could tell something was wrong.

  “You just agreed that pickles on toast make for a wonderful dinner. Is everything alright?”

  “I’m fine. I promise, but my mind is elsewhere.”

  “It has been a while since we’ve had a good ta
lk. Why don’t you come to my room tonight, and we’ll stay up late swapping stories and telling secrets. It's past time we talked.”

  Lucy was correct. She did need a confidant, and there was no better choice than her youngest sister. She was a good listener and tight-lipped. Unlike Felicity, who always spilled every secret she’d ever heard. “Why don’t you stop by my room before you go to sleep tonight. I do have a few things I’d like your opinion on.”

  Together they watched Lord Camden light the yule log. A few of the maids threw things on the fire. Edith watched it burn. The fire flickered and waved with a cheery glow. There was something about a yule log burning that felt good. She put her arm around Lucy and took in the moment in silence.

  Tomorrow was the Camden ball and people from all around would come to celebrate. It would be the perfect opportunity to flirt and dance. She might not stand out in a sea of faces, but she would shine on the dance floor. She was confident when she was dancing; it was one of the few places she felt at ease.

  After the festivities were over for the night, Edith and Lucy made their way to her room. She was careful to avoid the library with its enticing mistletoe. Edith asked her maid to fetch her sister’s nightwear so they could sleep together.

  Once they were both in their nightclothes and snuggled up under the thick warm quilt on her bed, Edith told Lucy everything. Well, not quite everything, as she left a few more intimate details out.

  “I don’t know how he feels. That is the most frustrating thing. If I could read his mind and understand if he finds me ugly, attractive, or just convenient then I could adjust my expectations accordingly.”

  “His feelings aren’t as important as your heart,” Lucy said. “Besides being thrown together in several strange situations, what do you like about him?”

  Edith reviewed their interactions. “I know it’s silly, but he was the first man who gave me a sincere compliment. I like the way he looks at me and not through me. He notices what I am doing and how I am feeling. He’s also sweet with his daughter. I love seeing them together. He doesn't know how handsome he really is. That is both attractive and sad. He loves horses and he has the most amazing stables. I know that is superficial, but at the same time, I would love to be able to ride all of his horses with him. I’ve never heard him say anything mean or rude, and even though he is one of the wealthiest men in England, he never puts himself above others.”

  “I think you’re right. You’ve fallen in love, and I for one couldn’t be happier for you. Tomorrow at the ball, you need to tell him. He needs to know.”

  “He told me he doesn’t want a love marriage. I think his wife broke his heart into so many pieces that he’s scared. What if he runs away from me?” It was difficult enough to muster up the courage to confess her true heart to any man, but to one who never wanted to love again, it was almost certain that he would push her away.

  “Let’s say, you never confess and the two of you marry. Wouldn’t you always wonder how he feels? Wouldn’t it be better to at least try for love? I cannot imagine anything worse than being married to a man I adore who doesn’t feel the same way. If you cannot be honest now, you will never have a happy future with him.”

  Lucy was wise beyond her years. “Thank you, Lucy. You’re right. I need to tell him now and hope that he can accept my feelings. Every day my admiration and love grows, and if I have to have my heart broken, then I suppose the sooner it happens the better.”

  Chapter 15

  Miles didn’t see Edith the next morning; he was busy helping his mother prepare for the ball. He had so many tasks to accomplish that he barely started dressing for the evening until a half-hour before guests were to arrive. His valet was put out, but did an exceptional job of making him presentable.

  Once he was ready, he stood beside Mother and welcomed guests into his home. Neighbors and distant relatives started pouring in, and he was ready for the night to be over, until he saw Edith. She wore a teal muslin gown and had pearls and flowers strewn about in her hair. She looked lovely.

  Once the dancing began, Miles quickly went from one lady to the next, trying to spread his attention far and wide, all the while wishing he could dance each set with Edith. She glided across the floor with grace and elegance. Tonight she was laughing and talking to several lucky gentlemen, and he had the unwelcome desire to whisk her away from them and spend the evening alone with Edith in the library.

  After five or six obligatory dances, he finally found the time to ask Edith for a dance. She agreed and he held his arm out for her. She placed her delicate fingers on his and smiled at him. How had he ever considered her to be plain? She was like a summer breeze on a stifling hot day. Her hands were in his as they twirled around the room and he was able to stare into her brown eyes. He could have stayed like that forever. If only the song lasted longer.

  Long before he was ready to let her go the music stopped, and he was forced to escort her back to her family. As they walked she turned to him with a quizzical, hesitant look in her expressive eyes.

  “Is there something you would like to say?” he asked.

  “Yes, there is, but it should probably be a private conversation.”

  “We could have a tête-à-tête over breakfast tomorrow.”

  Edith shook her head. “It needs to be tonight. I can’t wait that long.”

  Miles was stumped. Some dances allowed for talking, but leading her out twice would have tongues wagging. The ballroom was crowded. The crush of people barely fit in the room, his mother would be pleased, yet there weren’t any secluded places to meet. “No one should be in the library tonight. If you slip out after the next song, I will follow a few minutes later. I don’t want anyone to see us meeting.”

  “Yes, that should work. Don’t keep me waiting. I’m nervous enough as it is.” Miles wanted to ask her more questions, but decided to hold off until the library. He nodded his greeting to her sister and mother as he left her.

  The next dance seemed ten times longer than the one he’s spent with Edith. Not only was his partner, Mrs. Easton, an obnoxious gossip, she also had a propensity for stepping on his feet and giggling in apology. He half suspected the good woman was three sheets to the wind. He tried not to glance at Edith too often. His curiosity made it difficult to think of anything else though. She was smiling and talking to her sister Lucy, and he couldn’t help wondering what excuse she would use to leave the ballroom.

  The set finally ended and he bid goodnight to Mrs. Easton and made his way over to the punch bowl. He didn’t want to be suddenly introduced to a young lady in need of a dance partner. As host, he would have to ask such a lady for at least one dance. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Edith moving away from her sister. She was leaving and he would need to follow soon after.

  His lips twitched as he realized that he was meeting a woman for a secret assignation for the first time in his life. He slipped through a throng of people and snuck outside. His dancing shoes were not meant for snow, but he quickly walked over to his study and kicked as much excess liquid off before he tracked snow and mud all over the house. From the study he was able to secretly make his way upstairs to the library.

  Edith was sitting in his favorite chair. She sat rim-rod straight and looked more than a little uncomfortable. “What do you need to tell me that requires such privacy?” he asked. She stood up and walked towards him. Stopping just short of touching him. She looked up at him with teary eyes. Her whole body was shaking. “Are you alright?”

  “I’m fine. Just a little nervous. What I want to say takes courage.” She tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and took a deep breath. “I know I’m lacking in many areas, but I have fun with you. You make me feel special and valued. I miss you when we are apart. What I mean to say is, I think I love you.”

  Her eyes stared into his, brown and serious. She couldn’t mean it, could she? He’d told her how he felt. His palms started to sweat, the walls were closing in on him. He couldn’t marry someone who
loved him, he couldn’t let her think he felt the same way. He had no love left in his heart.

  She must have seen the panic in his eyes. Edith stepped back. Putting some much needed distance between them. “You don’t have to feel the same way about me. I just wanted you to know that I am planning on stealing your heart.”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t think that will be possible. You cannot steal something that has been broken and thrown away. I like you as a friend, and I think we could have a good marriage based on comfort and kindness. Consider your feelings again. Perhaps you mistake admiration and attraction for love.”

  Her lips turned down into a sad little frown. He’d hurt her, but that was better than lying. He needed to get away. Miles' heart was pounded in a mixture of fear and panic. “Why don’t we both think about how we envision our future, and meet again tomorrow to discuss it? We can meet in the stables since we both love horses.”

  She looked disappointed but not devastated. Perhaps she wasn’t in love with him. Because he didn’t want to start the process of choosing a wife all over again. It had been hard enough to trust Edith. He didn’t want to have to do that again. He wanted to marry her, and the only way that would happen would be if he could convince her that her feelings were not as serious as she claimed.

  Edith didn’t cry. She wanted to, but then everyone would notice when she returned to the ballroom. Her tears were not pretty, but wild and fierce. Her whole face turned red and blotchy, and he would know. He would see that she was heartbroken and never want to be with her again. Could she lie to him tomorrow and tell him that she did not love him? That she didn’t think about him first thing in the morning and every night as she closed her eyes?