by Rose Pearson
He swallowed hard, took a step back from her and shook his head. “It does not matter.”
“You were trying to protect me,” she said, taking another step towards him and letting the front door of the cottage shut behind her. The house was warm, with a faint scent of pine and spices. Evidently, Samuel had been preparing the house for Christmas. “You did not want me to lose the wealth of my dowry and my annuity.”
Samuel’s face fell, his eyes on the floor. “We would have nothing, Kate,” he admitted desperately “Nothing. I would no longer be employed by your father and therefore would have to give up the only home I have ever known. If we were to wed, your dowry would be meager at best and the annuity forgotten. Even your father’s will would have been changed so as not to include you! You would no longer be welcome at the vicarage, despised and rejected by your family – and all because of me.” Slowly, he lifted his gaze and let his eyes settle on her. “No, I could not do that,” he finished, softly. “I could offer you nothing but my heart and that would not keep you in comfort.”
Her heart soared as she saw the depths of his love for her. It was a love that was utterly selfless, that was putting her own needs before his own. He had believed every word her mother had said, believed that he would be doing her a great deal of harm, should he allow himself to pursue her.
“Samuel,” she whispered, hardly trusting herself to speak. “What my mother said to you is nothing more than a falsehood.”
She watched him slowly begin to lift his head, his face going white with shock.
“I discovered the truth of it only yesterday,” she admitted, reaching for his hand. “Lord Halifax proposed to me and, had he not almost immediately retracted it, I would have refused him anyway – but when I told my mother this, she reacted with such anger that I was quite taken aback. I was already suspicious that she had involved herself in some way and to hear the extent of what she had done to prevent us from finding happiness together has quite broken my heart.” Tears came to her eyes, unbidden, as she waited for him to speak. Her heart was sad and sore, pained that her mother had been so determined to do what she thought was best, rather than thinking of her own daughter’s happiness.
“I cannot quite believe this,” Samuel whispered, pushing one hand through his hair as his eyes fixed themselves on hers as if he were searching her expression for truth. “You are quite certain?”
A small laugh escaped her throat, even as tears began to make their way down her cheeks. “Yes, Samuel, I am quite certain,” she replied, hoarsely. “You should have seen the expression on my father’s face when he heard the truth.” Shaking her head, Katie pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket and wiped at her eyes. “I have never seen him so confused and upset before.”
There was a minute or two of quiet, with Samuel now holding her hand but staring at her as though he could not quite believe all that was occurring. Katie let herself cry, the pain of what she had endured these last few days finally bubbling to the surface and breaking open to run all through her. It was a healing, she realized. A healing of her fears, her longings, her doubts, and her sorrow. There was nothing more that could keep them apart. She would not be parted from Samuel again.
“So I am not to be asked to quit this house?” Samuel asked softly, reaching for her other hand and holding it tightly in his own. “I am not to be removed as steward to your father?”
“No,” she whispered, looking up into his eyes. “No, Samuel, you are not.”
“And you?” he asked, moving a fraction closer to her. “You are not to be without? You are not to be torn from your family, rejected and forgotten?”
Shaking her head, Katie let out a long, slow breath before she answered, trying to hold sway over her own shaky composure. “No, my dear Samuel,” she whispered, aware of the growing delight in his eyes. “No, that is not to be the case. I will still have my dowry and my annuity. I will not be removed from the will or no longer welcome at my father’s house. Those are falsehoods and ought not to be considered any longer. My father will confirm it to you, should you wish it.”
His eyes widened slightly, his mouth tugging into a warm smile. “Is that so?” he murmured, moving closer so that he might slip his arms about her waist. “Your father would be open to speaking to me?”
She nodded, not able to speak such was her happiness and growing anticipation.
“Then I think I must speak to him this very day,” Samuel whispered, resting his forehead against hers as he closed her eyes. “That is, my love, if you will have me.”
His eyes rose to the ceiling and Katie glanced up, astonished to see a sprig of mistletoe hanging just above their heads. Reaching up, she took one of the white berries from the cluster, her answer in that simple gesture.
His mouth found hers in a long, lingering kiss. Katie wept as she kissed him back, feeling the dampness on her cheeks and tasting the salt of her tears. Samuel leaned back and tenderly wiped them away, his expression soft as he looked into her eyes.
“No more tears, my dear Kate,” he murmured, smiling gently. “There have been more than enough of those, I think.” He closed his eyes, his jaw working for a moment. “I am sorry that I did not speak to you about what had been said to me. I was afraid that, if I did so, you would try and speak to your mother and make things all the more painful for you. I thought to try and be glad that you were being courted by Lord Halifax, but I could feel nothing more than pain.”
A sigh escaped from her. “As did I,” she admitted, her arms going up around his neck. “I had almost given up hope, forcing myself to converse and laugh and even dance with the viscount. We have become very good friends, I think, but that is nothing compared to what I share with you. And, in the end,” she finished, her tears drying as she smiled up into his face. “It turns out that Viscount Halifax does not care for me either. He has quite lost his heart to another and, therefore, I am quite free.”
“Free to marry me,” Samuel whispered, bending his head a little so that he might capture her gaze entirely. “Will you be my wife, Kate? Will you let me try to fill each and every day of your life with as much love, as much joy and happiness as I can?” Capturing her chin with his thumb, he caressed her cheek gently, his eyes bright and filled with hope. This was the Samuel she knew, the Samuel she remembered. This was the man whom she loved, the man who had been willing to give up his own hopes for a future with her so that she would not have to bear any sort of pain.
“Yes,” she replied, the word spilling from her lips without hesitation. “Yes, Samuel. Yes, I will be your wife.”
He kissed her again, his arms tight around her waist. Katie clung to him, her happiness finally complete, as she lost herself in Samuel’s embrace. This was the fulfillment of all of her hopes and wishes, finally finding her own love returned by the man she had never once been able to forget.
“I love you, Samuel,” she whispered, breaking their kiss for just a moment.
“And I love you, my dear, sweet Kate,” he replied, dropping a light kiss onto the end of her nose. “This is happiness like I have never known it before.”
“And it shall be a Christmas neither of us will ever forget,” she whispered, before reaching up to kiss him again.
Jane’s Christmas Confusion
Chapter One
“You are going to London?”
“Yes.”
Jane Brookes, the eldest daughter to Vicar Cheltham and quite overlooked by her mother, put on a brave smile as her younger sister, Katie, stared at her in astonishment.
“When will you return?”
Jane shook her head, not quite certain herself when she would be able to bear the sight of her sister and Viscount Halifax. “I do not know. Soon. I would not want to miss all the excitement of your engagement, Katie.”
“I do not know there will be an engagement as yet, Jane,” Katie replied slowly, a slight frown flickering across her brow. “Is that what is troubling you, Jane? The fact that I am to be engaged and wed soon e
nough? You need not fear for your own future, Jane, truly. I am quite sure that you will be able to find a happiness of your own.” She reached out and put a hand on Jane’s arm, sending a ripple of frustration into Jane’s heart.
Without meaning it, Jane heard a harsh, grating laugh escape from her, revealing to her sister a little of what she truly felt. It was hard, dark and angry, her pain bubbling to the surface no matter how hard she tried to push it away. “You do not understand, Katie,” she said, stiffly, removing her arm from Katie’s comforting hand. “You cannot. Not that it is your fault, of course.”
“Understand?” Katie repeated, still appearing to be quite taken aback.
Jane shook her head and turned away, not willing to reveal the depths of what she felt to someone whom she knew could never really see it for what it was. “You can never understand what my life is like, Katie. To be looked down upon by our mother simply because I do not have the beauty you possess. To be tossed aside when it comes to the viscount, to not even be considered, not even for a moment.” She did not look back at Katie but pressed one hand to the door, aware that her voice was breaking with the pain that she felt delve all the deeper into her soul. “You can never understand, Katie,” she finished, her voice growing a good deal quieter as she forced herself to remain where she was, not once looking back at her sister. “Although I appreciate that you are trying to do so.”
“Jane, wait.”
Shaking her head, Jane stepped away from her sister and let the door close behind her. Hurrying towards the front of the house, she saw with relief that the carriage was only just arriving with the smiling face of George Grainger in the carriage window.
Her heart broke as she pretended to be rather glad about leaving, kissing her mother and then her father’s cheek. Katie had not yet come out after her and Jane was rather relieved that she had not done so. There was not too much that Jane could say to explain her absence further, not without revealing the pain she had always fought so hard to hide.
“Up we get, then!”
George Grainger welcomed her into the carriage after a swift greeting to her father and mother. Her bags were taken care of by one of the tigers and, within a few minutes, Jane found herself being driven away from her father’s house, leaving everything that troubled her behind.
Katie suddenly appeared, running out into the frosty air to wave frantically at her sister. ““Goodbye, Jane!” she called, as the carriage began to roll away. “Do write to me, will you?”
Jane did not trust her voice and so managed a small, half-hearted wave in her sister’s direction, choosing not to make any promises. She did not particularly want to hear about her sister’s engagement, which she was sure would happen very soon, but yet chided herself over her lack of joy for her sister’s happiness. This was not something she needed to be selfish about. Her mother had chosen to press Katie towards Viscount Halifax instead of her and, given that her mother cared nothing for what either Jane nor Katie thought, it was not exactly something that either of them had any say in. Neither did her sister love Viscount Halifax, although that, to Jane’s mind, almost made things worse.
“We are gone from them now,” George Grainger said, quietly. “You can remove that smile from your face for I know it is not genuine.”
A heavy sigh left her lips as she shook her head, refusing to let the tears fall. “I am very foolish, Grainger,” she replied, sadly. “I think I am quite foolish indeed.”
Grainger reached across and took her hand in his, the gesture of comforting friendship. “You need not consider yourself foolish, my dear girl,” he said, with the knowledge of one who knew precisely what she was going through. “There is nothing silly or ridiculous about loving another.”
“I did not say that I loved him,” Jane replied, a little more sharply than she had intended.
“You did not need to,” came the reply. “I saw the way you were watching him dance last evening. The pain in your expression was unmistakable.”
At her friend’s words, tears began to flood her eyes, sending her into a spiral of misery, one which she had been hiding from for so many days.
“You do not think he remembers you.”
“No,” she breathed, quietly, her eyes still tightly shut. “He does not remember me. That much is obvious.”
Thankfully for her, George Grainger lapsed into silence, leaving her alone with her thoughts. It gave her time to gather herself and find her composure yet again, determined that she would not break down into sobs in front of George, even though he was her very dear friend.
They had known one another ever since they were children, growing up together and finding a kinship of spirit that she had become more and more grateful for with every passing day. The strange thing, however, was that she had never once thought of him in a romantic sense, quite certain that they would be fast friends but never anything more than that. It seemed that George himself considered them to be nothing more than friends which was a great relief to her. On occasion, he had made the odd mirthful comment about finding a suitable wife and bemoaning the fact that he could never find someone as sweet and as kind as she, but Jane had known it always to be nothing more than jesting. Had she taken it seriously, then things might have become very uncomfortable for them both.
“I have to marry sometime, Jane,” George Grainger sighed, interrupting her thoughts and startling her so much that her eyes opened at once. “Do you think I will find someone suitable in the little Season?”
Her heart slowly began to settle back into a normal rhythm and she managed a small, rather wobbly smile in his direction. “I think you will be able to find someone eminently suitable, Grainger,” she replied, gently. “You just need to be a little more serious about matters of the heart.”
His gaze rested on her, his features so familiar to her. With his reddish-brown hair and light green eyes, Jane did not think him unhandsome, although he himself considered himself entirely unattractive. Whilst his character was somewhat whimsical and rather prone to mischief and mirth instead of serious conversations, she had found him to be a loyal and dedicated friend.
“Do you think I will fall in love with a young lady in much the same way as you have fallen for your Viscount?” he asked, softly, his expression growing much more serious. “Do you truly think it can happen?”
“I do,” she replied, her heart aching within her. “Although I wish you better success than I, Grainger. To find one’s love unreturned is a rather painful experience.” She winced and shook her head, seeing his sympathetic expression. “Find a lady who is true in her affections, Grainger, and then I am sure you will be more than content.”
“I can only hope it will be so,” he murmured, resting his head against the squabs as he shot a look to the snoring maid in the corner of the carriage. “And if all else fails, my dear Jane, then I will offer you my hand in marriage, for I fear that you may be the only one inclined to take it.”
This was said with a roll of his eyes and, despite her ongoing pain, Jane broke into laughter. “Let us hope that it does not come to that, my dear George,” she replied with a smile. “And thank you for offering to take me to London. You cannot know what a relief this is from my current burdensome circumstances.”
He sighed and shook his head. “I find it all quite unfair, Jane. To be overlooked simply on your mother’s whims is quite ridiculous. Had you been given your proper place, then it would have been you encouraged towards the viscount and not your sister.”
“Not that it is Katie’s doing in any way,” she replied quickly, refusing to let her sister take the blame for anything whatsoever.”
“No,” George agreed, his expression softening. “But I find it repugnant that your mother overlooks you simply because Katie is considered the beauty of the family.” Leaning forward, he took her hand in his and pressed it gently, his gaze unflinching. “Do not ever believe her, Jane.”
Jane frowned, a little unsure as to what her friend was saying. “Believe what,
Grainger? That I am no beauty?” A small, dark laugh escaped her. “I need not be convinced in that regard, my friend. I am well aware that my brown hair, dull eyes and less than slim figure do not exactly paint a picture of beauty. Not when you compare it to my blonde haired, tall and graceful sister!” She tried to laugh again, as though to make light of it, but the sound stuck in her throat, leaving her with nothing more than an attempt at an amused look.
“That is just what I mean,” George replied, softly. “You must not allow yourself to believe such things, Jane. You have a beauty within you that is unlike anything I have seen in anyone else. To be a ‘diamond of the first water’ is an accolade that speaks only of the shallowness of men’s hearts. No, my dear friend, you must believe yourself to be more beautiful than any other, for that is what I see. And if Viscount Halifax was wise, he would have taken notice of you the very first day you were introduced, seeing that there was more of you hidden beneath the surface.”
Jane could not speak, given that there was such an ache in her throat that she was quite sure she was going to cry. George had spoken to her so kindly and with such a depth of affection that she longed to believe him, longed to let herself hope.
“Do not turn into a watering pot on me now,” George smiled, letting go of her hand and sitting back in his seat with a twinkle in his eye. “It is a long way to London and I do not want to imagine what my sister will think if you appear at her door with red-rimmed eyes! Most likely she will scold me until my ears burn!”
This made Jane laugh, although her eyes were still rather damp. “Thank you, George,” she replied, warmly. “You are very kind. I am glad to call you my friend.”
“I will always be here for you,” he stated. “And I am quite determined that you shall have a wonderful time in London and, if I can manage it, forget entirely about Lord Halifax by the time Christmas comes in a fortnight’s time.”
She sighed inwardly, aware that the love she carried in her heart for Viscount Halifax was not one that would ever really leave her. “I suppose we can but try,” she murmured, resting her head back and looking out of the window, seeing the countryside pass them by. She only prayed that, by the time Christmas came, she would be much better able to cope with the knowledge that her sister was to be marrying the only man that Jane had ever loved.