Love and Christmas Wishes: Three Regency Romance Novellas

by Rose Pearson

  Sighing heavily to herself, Katie made to walk towards her bedchamber, thinking it best to closet herself away for a time so that her mother would not think her disobedient and, thereafter, subject her to another firm rebuke. Muttering darkly to herself, she barely noticed her father’s study door opening and only just managed to prevent herself from walking straight into the gentleman emerging from it.

  “Oh, my dear lady!” he exclaimed, stumbling back. “I do apologize.”

  Embarrassed, Katie felt heat rush into her cheeks, dropping her gaze to the floor as she stepped back. “Please, you need not apologize, Mr. Putnam,” she replied at once, her hands clasped tightly in front of her as she fought to keep her composure. “It was my own fault entirely.”

  Mr. Putnam, her father’s steward, reached behind him to close the door and then turned to her again, his dark brown eyes lingering on hers for a moment before he cleared his throat and let his gaze drift over her shoulder. “You are not hurt, I hope?”

  “No, not at all,” Katie stammered, aware of just how quickly her heart was beating. “Please do not concern yourself, Mr. Putnam. It was my own doing for I was lost in thought and did not see you coming out of my father’s study.”

  His smile was a little tight. “I had some business here this morning,” he said, with a slight incline of his head.

  There was a short, tense silence. Katie struggled to know what to say but found that she did not want to take her leave of the gentleman, wishing she could think of something that would strike up an easy and prolonged conversation with him. Her eyes drifted over his frame, aware that he was only a little taller than she and yet gave the impression of height and strength simply in how he stood. He was, she had always thought, a rather handsome gentleman. She recalled, with a small smile, how they had so often played together as children and how she had laughed at his brown hair, so dark in comparison with her own blonde locks. Things were vastly different between them now. She had once been able to converse with him easily, thinking him to be her dearest friend in the world – and now they struggled to know what to say to one another.

  “Might you care for a walk this afternoon, Mr. Putnam?”

  Astonished at herself, Katie’s eyes widened as she looked back at him, seeing the same astonishment she felt sparking in his eyes.

  “A walk, Miss Brookes?” he asked, shuffling his feet at the sudden awkwardness between them. “I – I had not thought –”

  “We often used to walk together, did we not?” she continued, finding the longing to go back to how they had once been beginning to burn within her. “We have not done so for a long time.”

  Mr. Putnam managed a small smile, his eyes flickering towards her face for just a moment before dropping away again. “That is because circumstances have changed, Miss Brookes,” he replied, with a hint of sadness in his voice. “We are no longer children.”

  Her heart began to ache. “Therefore, we can no longer be friends?”

  The question hung in the air between them, like a sparkling, precious jewel that he could either hold tightly or let fall, shattering between them. Katie held her breath, anticipating yet fearing the answer he would give her.

  “Miss Brookes,” Mr. Putnam said, slowly, taking a small step closer to her. “I think that –”

  His hand touched hers and Katie stifled her gasp, feeling heat shooting up her arm, searing its way to her heart.

  Mr. Putnam dropped his hand to his side, his eyes downcast. Had he felt the same spark as she? Or had it been quite the opposite? He had felt nothing and therefore did not want to give her any sort of hope?

  “I think, Miss Brookes, that things ought to remain as they are,” he said, eventually, his eyes fixing on hers with such a stern severity shining within them that she could not look away. “I am your father’s steward and you, I hear, are soon to marry.”

  “To marry?” she repeated, unable to prevent herself from interrupting him. “Wherever did you hear such a thing?”

  He shrugged and moved away from her, walking towards the entrance hall so that he might take his leave. “Your father has, on occasion, mentioned his hopes for both yourself and your sister,” he said, sounding rather downcast as they walked together. “I do hope that you are able to find a suitable match, Miss Brookes.”

  Her heart sank towards the floor as he turned to her, inclining his head as the maid came towards him, his hat and gloves ready for him.

  “Thank you, Mr. Putnam,” she found herself saying, her mind scrambling to make sense of what he had said and what, in fact, it might mean. “Although I confess that I do miss….” She trailed off, not quite able to put into words all that she wanted to say. The maid scurried away, leaving them both standing quite alone in the hallway. Her cheeks were burning hot, her embarrassment growing with almost every minute they stood together. She hated this awkwardness between them, despised how they had lost the close acquaintance that had always meant so much to her.

  Mr. Putnam cleared his throat as he placed his hat on his head, his shoulders slumping. “It would be disingenuous of me to pretend that I did not feel the same way, Miss Brookes,” he murmured, not quite able to meet her gaze. “But things must change from how they once were, I think. I will always be grateful for the friendship we shared.”

  Katie caught her breath as she looked directly into her eyes, his hand reaching towards her, as though he were about to take her hand, as though he wanted to let his fingers touch hers before he put his gloves on. “It would be my greatest wish if it were not so, Mr. Putnam,” she whispered. “Especially given that it is near Christmas.”

  He held her gaze for a little longer, his hand frozen in mid-air. And then, he turned away, a deep sigh escaping from his lips. “Good day, Miss Brookes,” he said, not looking at her. “I do hope you have an enjoyable dinner this evening.”

  Katie could do nothing but watch as he left the house, feeling herself wince inwardly at the fact that he clearly knew about the dinner this evening which, most likely, meant that her father had been wittering on about the merits of one Viscount Halifax. Her heart went with Mr. Putnam as he walked away, although she was still flushed with embarrassment over what she had said and what she had not quite managed to say.

  Her eyes suddenly burned with tears as she rubbed her arms against the cold air that had rushed into the house upon Mr. Putnam’s departure. The wind was biting, the ground hard as winter took an even firmer hold. It threatened to make its way into Katie’s heart, threatened to fill her entirely with ice and cold. She had so much affection for Mr. Putnam but it was, it appeared, never to be reciprocated. She could not even speak to him of it! What else for her to do, then, than to accept what her mother’s desire for her to impress the viscount and, if successful, find herself married and settled to a man she cared nothing for.

  It would mean a lifetime of discontent, a lifetime of forcing herself to forget the way she felt about Mr. Putnam. The viscount did appear to be quite a kind gentleman by all appearances, but he did not bring any sort of spark to her heart, as Mr. Putnam did.

  Wiping her eyes quickly and praying that the maid had not seen her, Katie hurried away from the door, turning her back on the distant figure of Mr. Putnam. She would retire to her room and, as her mother had instructed, begin to prepare herself for this evening’s dinner. It would, perhaps, make her forget entirely about Mr. Putnam and her continuing, confusing feelings.

  Chapter Two

  “You are to speak to the viscount this evening, I hear.”

  Katie shot a sharp look towards her sister, seeing the way Jane’s eyes glinted with either mischief or frustration.

  “Yes,” she admitted, as they neared the great house of Hatherley Hall. “I am. Not that I am in any way inclined towards him, I confess.”

  Jane glanced at her, her hazel eyes filled with interest. “No? He is a titled gentleman and very amiable.”

  “And yet,” Katie interrupted, as they ascended the steps that would lead them into the
house. “I am not at all interested in being courted by him, but Mama, as you know, has insisted upon it.” She shook her head and pressed her sister’s arm for a moment. “Would that you had the opportunity to do so instead of I. I think you would be much better suited to the viscount.” She did not quite know what made her say such a thing – perhaps it was simply that she was desperate to find any sort of excuse to stop her from having to converse with the viscount this evening – but even Jane did not accept such a sentiment from her.

  “I think, Katie, that Mama has decided what is to occur and neither of us can do anything much about it,” Jane murmured, as they walked into the house. “Do your best, my dear sister. You may find yourself as happy as our dear cousin is soon to be, given that it will soon be a year since she first wed. I know that if anyone can capture the viscount’s attentions, you can.”

  A little surprised, Katie turned to respond to her sister, only to see the slightly strained expression on Jane’s face as she was pulled away by their host, Baron Carmody. She wondered on this for a moment, afraid that Jane was a little upset that Katie was being encouraged towards the viscount rather than herself but having no opportunity to consider it further given that she herself was almost immediately pulled away by a familiar voice.

  “Ah, Miss Brookes! How glad I am to have you here this evening.”

  Katie put a smile on her face as George Grainger, the second son of Baron Carmody, greeted her warmly. He himself had only just returned from the militia in order to enjoy the Christmas season and was, apparently, very glad to see her again. Katie, however, was not in any way convinced that it was she who made George Grainger smile, given that his gaze was, currently, over her left shoulder and fixed upon her elder sister, Jane. There was never anything of a romantic nature between them, however, Katie was certain, but more that, they had been very dear friends before George had gone to the militia. This was, Katie realized, the first time he had seen Jane for some time.

  “If you wish to greet my sister, then I will not be insulted,” she whispered, leaning forward to press one hand onto George’s arm. “You have missed her company, I think?”

  George Grainger grinned, his eyes bright. “Indeed, I have. I often think of the days that she, Henry and I ran around this part of the world together.”

  Katie smiled gently, aware that she had not been a part of such a friendship since she had spent most of her days with Mr. Putnam. “I am sure she will be glad to speak to you again, Mr. Grainger.”

  He laughed softly and pressed her hand. “Do excuse me.”

  Inclining her head and stepping to one side, Katie allowed George Grainger to move past her, delighted to hear Jane’s exclamation as they greeted each other. Turning her head, she began to move through the drawing room at her leisure, quite content to merely listen to other conversations without the desire to engage in one herself. Moving towards the corner of the room, she let herself rest gently against the wall, covering herself in shadows.

  And then, she saw him.

  Viscount Halifax.

  He was looking at her sister, Jane, with a fierce, unmitigated gaze. It was as though he was angry that George Grainger had chosen to speak to Jane instead of continuing on his conversation with her. A little taken aback, Katie watched the gentleman carefully, taking in the clenching of his jaw and the way his clear blue eyes remained entirely fixed on her sister.

  Jane, however, was entirely unaware of the viscount’s regard. She was busy conversing with George Grainger, her eyes alight, her face wreathed in smiles. She looked, to Katie’s discerning eye, almost beautiful.

  Perhaps the viscount might be convinced to consider Jane, Katie thought to herself, hope suddenly sparking in her chest as she suddenly saw a way out of her difficult situation. If only her mother…..

  Her eyes caught upon her mother at that very moment. Her mother was glaring at her from across the room, her face rather white as she made her feelings quite clear about Katie’s lack of conversation with the other guests. Sighing inwardly, Katie cleared her throat and removed herself from the side of the room, forcing herself back towards the other guests so that she would not be forced to endure her mother’s harsh words later.

  Unfortunately, her hopes that the viscount would be caught up with Jane were soon entirely shattered for, even as she made her way back towards the throng of guests, the viscount detached himself from his companion and moved towards her, forcing her to stop and greet him.

  “Miss Brookes,” Viscount Halifax murmured, bowing gracefully over her hand. “How good to see you again.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Katie replied, quickly, aware of how little she felt for the man despite his handsome face and genteel manners. “You are very kind.” This was the second time they had met properly, for the family had been invited for a festive holiday with the family last year, where the viscount had been present, although very quiet. Tipping her head slightly, she glanced towards Jane and George Grainger, who were still conversing together. “You have had the opportunity to reacquaint yourself with George Grainger, I believe.”

  The viscount smiled, his eyes not once flickering towards the man. “Indeed. He returned home only yesterday evening. I confess that I do not know him particularly well at all, since it is the Honorable Stewart Grainger, the heir, that I am best acquainted with.”

  “I see,” Katie murmured, praying that her mother was watching this interaction with the viscount.

  “We have met in London,” the viscount continued, amiably. “A good sort.”

  “Indeed,” Katie replied, with a quick smile. “I would not consider myself to have a close acquaintance with Mr. Grainger, I’m afraid, my lord.”

  The viscount frowned. “Oh? But I thought you all knew one another as children.”

  Katie looked up at him in surprise, a little astonished at the curiosity in his eyes. “That is true, my lord, certainly,” she replied, slowly, “but Mr. Stewart Grainger was not particularly inclined towards frivolity and the like. He much preferred to remain in the estate with his father.”

  “As the heir, I quite understand,” Lord Halifax replied, quickly, with a knowing smile. “So that is why Miss Jane Brooks appears so at ease with Mr. George Grainger, then.”

  Tilting her head, Katie regarded the viscount carefully, wondering whether or not she had been correct to think that the man might easily be persuaded to consider her sister. “You are quite right, my lord,” she murmured, quietly. “My sister and Mr. George Grainger were much closer in their acquaintance that I ever was.”

  “Indeed?” he replied, turning back to her with one eyebrow raised. “You did not spend time with them, then?”

  Katie felt her heart quicken, finding the viscount’s questions to be rather pressing. “Being the younger daughter, I found myself a little less than welcome at times, Viscount Halifax,” she chuckled, thinking it would be best to tell him the truth. “Instead, I found myself in the company of Mr. Putnam.” Seeing the viscount’s flash of interest, she lifted one shoulder. “He is – was – the son of my father’s steward,” she explained, quickly. “I know it is a little unusual for a vicar to have such a thing as a steward but my father was the youngest son of a viscount and therefore required a man to take care of his accounts and the like. Mr. Samuel Putnam has now taken over the position of steward, in light of his father’s death.”

  Viscount Halifax murmured something sympathetic under his breath, his eyes still filled with interest as he watched her.

  “That is the dinner gong,” he said, as the sound of it reverberated through the room. “I do hope we can continue our conversation over dinner, Miss Brookes. I have enjoyed speaking with you.”

  Katie hesitated, knowing that she was, thus far, doing as both her mother and her father wished but finding that her heart was not in any way engaged with the viscount. He was handsome, yes, and quite amiable with good conversation. However, she was not inclined towards him in any way.

  “Thank you,” she said, he
r heart sinking to her toes. “Yes, I would enjoy continuing our conversation, my lord. You are very kind.”

  Something glinted in his eyes as he offered her his arm. She had no other choice to accept it, seeing her mother’s delighted expression as she beheld Katie walking arm in arm with the viscount. She shot a quick glance at Jane, who was being accompanied by George Grainger into the dining room. Her sister smiled gently at her, although Katie saw that it did not quite reach her eyes. In a way, Katie felt as though she was almost envious of George Grainger, in that he appeared to know her sister better than she herself did! Jane was always rather quiet, had never truly expressed her feelings or deep emotions to either Katie or anyone else for that matter. In fact, Katie often wondered whether or not her sister told anyone what she truly felt in all the years she had been alive. Her sister was always disregarded by both their mother and their father, although particularly their mother. It was, by rights, Jane who ought to be pushed towards the viscount since she was the elder, but her mother had decided that Jane was much too plain and much too quiet to be blessed with such a gentleman’s attentions. Therefore, despite the fact that she was the younger sister, Katie had been the one encouraged towards him.

  Sometimes, Katie wondered if Jane was upset and hurt over such things. She had never said but, at times, Katie thought that the reason her sister was so quiet and inexpressive was simply because she thought that revealing her emotions would only make her mother even more disinclined towards her. Whilst they talked often and were able to laugh and enjoy one another’s company, there was not any particular depth to their relationship – and that, Katie realized, was something she wished was not so.