Winter Wishes: A Regency Christmas Anthology

by Cheryl Bolen

  “That and losing the parents she adored to illness and grief. She hasn’t had a chance to impress anyone since. Let’s hope her next suitor has more staying power and a truer heart,” Mother whispered and then strode forward.

  Ahead, his sisters were whispering while Margaret walked alone. He had noticed the girls and Meg seemed to get along well this visit, almost as well as Margaret and Mother did. Margaret’s devotion to her family was one quality they had in common.

  He hurried to catch up to her.

  Margaret seemed surprised when he fell into step with her. “Are you enjoying the walk?” he asked as she stopped and looked around for the rest of the group.

  “Yes,” she promised with a sigh. “This is just what I need. Peace and quiet.”

  “Yes, peace and…” Otis spun around quickly. Walks with his sisters were never quiet. And he could not see either one of them. Mother had fallen behind, nudging snow off a statue with the tip of her finger. All there was to see was snow-covered shrubbery.

  His tension increased. It would be a surprise attack at any moment then.

  Otis rushed toward Margaret, arms spread. “No, not today!” he cried out.

  But it was too late. Balls of snow pelted down upon them in a thick white shower.

  Margaret screamed in fright.

  Thinking to protect her, Otis put his arms around her head and shoulders. “I’ll punish them for this,” he assured Margaret.

  Margaret fell to the ground, and Otis moved to cover her as much as possible while the snowballs started striking his back in earnest.

  Margaret broke away from him suddenly—and before he knew it, she was pelting handfuls of snow at his sisters.

  He could not have been more surprised.

  While he’d been protecting her, she had quickly lined up a series of balls unnoticed at their feet but was making very good use of them all now.

  Otis hurried to make more, tossing out a few himself but handing most to Margaret. He was used to this sort of behavior from his occasionally brattish siblings, but he’d never expected any lady to want to join in with their usual method of winter warfare.

  Margaret had a good arm, and soon it was his sisters’ turn to shriek in terror and run and hide behind Mother for protection.

  Otis looked up from his kneeling perch to see Margaret smiling as he’d never seen before. She was blinding, so happy and joyous right now.

  Otis felt his attraction to her only increase.

  Chapter 7

  Meg stepped from her steaming-hot bath, allowed her maid to wrap her in linen, and began to dry herself off before the blazing fire. Aside from the endless cold, it was easy living here, allowing servants to pamper her and fetch her anything her heart desired. Lady Vyne was emphatic that Meg make herself at home, and Meg had reluctantly agreed to because refusing seemed to make the lady unhappy.

  She ducked behind a corner dressing screen to finish her drying off in private. “The weather seems much improved today,” she called out.

  “Yes, but heavy falls are expected before nightfall,” Lady Vyne warned. “Make sure to wear your warmest gown for dinner.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Meg’s new maid handed over thick woolen stockings that had been warmed by the fire, and then a chemise. To keep the chill at bay, Meg had taken to wearing as many undergarments as possible. It felt a bit constricting at times, but at least she was always warm.

  She stepped out from behind the screen to allow the maid to help her into a day gown of burgundy wool and then sat before her mirror. The maid quickly brushed out her long hair and began styling. While she did, Meg observed her hostess. She often caught Lady Vyne frowning and today was no different. Something was on her mind that she would not talk about with Meg.

  Lady Vyne drew closer, helping the maid insert a few of her more decorative pins to her hair. “You look lovely.”

  “Thank you,” Meg said, hiding her smile. She felt a bit lovely, too. Despite the cold of The Vynes, she was happy to be here. She had not realized how much she had missed the company of another woman. Even the countess’ children’s antics appealed to her. The young boy was a sweet little gentleman, happy to perch on her lap occasionally, especially if it meant he was closer to the cakes placed on the tabletop.

  The girls were playful, running here and there through the upper floor of the grand house. They were not allowed in any of the ground-floor rooms. Lord Vyne was said to prefer not to see his children more than once a week. Lady Vyne, however, was as devoted a mother as anyone could want.

  Because of the absence of affection from their father, all held their older brother, Lord Clement, in the highest regard. He toted them around, played with them, admonishing them to be good or quiet when they became too rowdy. He was a wonderful older brother. He would make a kind husband and father one day too.

  She turned away slightly as her face heated a little because she was thinking of him again.

  Meg could not seem to forget that Lord Clement had kissed her, but had not tried to do it again since. She was not sure whether to be grateful or despondent about that. He was not avoiding her, but he was busy and always seemed rushed. She rather thought she might like another kiss from him if he was ever so inclined. After all, she was being forced to look for a husband in London. Why not be prepared to pick someone who kissed well? But in order to do that, Meg needed to be able to make a comparison.

  “What are our plans for the afternoon?”

  “We must wait.” Lady Vyne moved to the window, and Meg dismissed the maid. “My husband has invited friends of his to join us for the holiday. They could arrive anytime now, I believe.”

  Meg was disappointed by the news that she must meet new people. “Who are they?”

  “Mr. Xavier Milne. He is a prosperous merchant and quite wealthy, from London.”

  A prosperous husband might make a good husband too. “I see. Is Mr. Milne married, madam?”

  “Indeed he is. His wife has given him several children.”

  Meg sagged with relief. For a moment, she feared Lady Vyne had invited the gentleman for the sole purpose of meeting her before the season began. Given the secrecy of everything that had gone before to get her here, she would not have been surprised if Hector had arranged something like that. “I do hope they are enjoying a smooth journey.”

  “Yes, but until they arrive, I am not quite certain how many members of his family will be joining us.” Lady Vyne shrugged. “We shall see. Are you ready?”

  “Yes.” Meg snatched up a woolen shawl and wrapped it about her shoulders.

  Lady Vyne smiled and led the way to the door.

  They were in the morning room half an hour when a servant came with the news that a carriage was approaching the manor. Lady Vyne seemed displeased by the news but moved to the drawing room to receive them.

  Meg was dragged along although she rather hoped she might have been excused. Lord Vyne was already in the drawing room, pacing. Meg had not seen her host more than once since her arrival. He was said to be ill and spent much of his day in bed. However, during the times she had been exposed to his company, she found him a cold and hard man, one with little conversation for Meg.

  “I’ve sent for your son, madam,” he said curtly.

  Lady Vyne nodded.

  Meg looked down at her fingers, feeling ill at ease that any search would be in vain. Lord Clement had left the manor before elevenses. Meg had waved to him from her upper bedchamber window when she’d seen his figure on the snowy lawn below. He’d waved back but continued on his way to the stables. She’d seen him ride off, too, but not return to the manor in the hours since.

  “I will expect him to be attentive to all our guests,” Lord Vyne informed his wife.

  Lady Vyne nodded and arched her neck toward the door. “They are here.”

  The earl cast a baleful eye upon his wife. “I will speak with the boy later about his absence.”

  That did not sound very pleasant. Meg eased
back as greetings were exchanged with Mr. Milne and a daughter. She seemed about Meg’s age but with a polish Meg could never hope to imitate. Miss Milne was spectacularly pretty, with russet-red hair and a heart-shaped face. Meg rather thought she knew her looks were superior, too. The pair were very loud and exuberant. Meg did not like them very much.

  Miss Milne glanced at Meg, frowning slightly at her presence.

  Lady Vyne introduced Meg with a fond smile. “And this is our dear friend, Lady Margaret Stockwick.”

  “A pleasure, my lady.”

  “Miss Milne.” Meg inclined her head. “I trust your journey was uneventful.”

  “Indeed it was,” she replied, smiling at Lady Vyne.

  They all sat down together, and Meg ended up beside Miss Milne. Being new acquaintances in the presence of old friends, Meg held her tongue and let others talk. Miss Milne felt no such compulsion. She added her pennies’ worth at every opportunity, drawing all eyes in the room to look at her.

  Miss Milne leaned closer suddenly and whispered, “Will Lord Clement be joining us soon do you think?”

  “I cannot say,” Meg whispered back.

  “Have you been visiting long?”

  “We arrived several days ago.”

  “You came with your brother?”

  “Indeed. Do you know him?”

  “Lord Stockwick and Lord Clement are the most desirable bachelors in all of England.” Miss Milne smiled knowingly but Meg couldn’t be more surprised about her brother’s reputation. Could a man with so little patience be considered a catch?

  The gentlemen suddenly excused themselves, announcing they would retire to the library for the afternoon to discuss important business matters. Meg was disappointed to discover that the library would be off limits until they were done. She had hoped to read the next chapter of her book with Lord Clement there upon his return from riding out.

  She would have to wait until tomorrow, she supposed.

  “It is a pleasure to be invited to stay at The Vynes. My father has been telling me all about the estate and the family’s long history here.”

  “It is my family who once owned this estate but it became part of the Vyne estates upon my marriage.” Lady Vyne’s smile was strained, and then she gestured to the waiting servant and asked for tea. “Might I enquire after your family? Your mother and sisters are well, I trust?”

  “Indeed they are, and very sorry to have missed the opportunity to travel to Derbyshire this year.”

  Meg leaned forward. “How many siblings are in your family?”

  “Eight.” Miss Milne eyed the cakes. “There were too many for even the largest of carriages so Papa said they must stay at home with Mama.”

  “Traveling as a family can be very trying on ones nerves,” Lady Vyne remarked.

  “Even when you only have the one sibling too,” Meg murmured. “Men are so hard to amuse over long distances.”

  That earned her a laugh from Lady Vyne.

  “I should like to have brought my sisters to meet everyone,” Miss Milne said.

  “It can be difficult to leave home,” Lady Vyne replied, eyeing Miss Milne with a more sympathetic expression. “More tea?”

  “Yes, please.”

  Lady Vyne asked Meg the same question but she declined a second cup.

  “Cake,” she offered next.

  Miss Milne nodded quickly and took one slice of cake. Meg declined. She had enjoyed a good meal earlier in the day and needed nothing more.

  Miss Milne, however, eyed the last piece hungrily. “May I have another?”

  Lady Vyne agreed.

  “Forgive me but I truly am famished,” Miss Milne said when it was gone, too. “My father’s impatience to reach the estate ensured our stops along the way were always brief.”

  “Some men never consider the needs of the ladies under their care,” Lady Vyne murmured. “My son is not like that.”

  “No indeed. Lord Clement is very much concerned with everyone’s happiness,” Meg replied in full agreement.

  “I am glad to hear it.” Miss Milne nodded quickly.

  Meg was not sure why she looked up when she did, but she found Lord Clement standing across the room, still as a post as he listened to her praise him. A funny smile teased his lips, then the smile grew.

  Meg’s cheeks began to tingle with the heat of a blush.

  Lady Vyne and Miss Milne could not see him, and they talked on about the trials of pleasing a large family, with no idea their words were being overheard.

  Meg held his gaze and scrunched her toes in her slippers. Lord Clement was finally back, and they might still read her book together that afternoon if he was free to do so.

  He raised a finger to his lips, asking for her silence, and then backed quietly from the room without interrupting his mother.

  Meg gaped. Why was he not joining them?

  Lady Vyne must have seen something of Meg’s disappointment in her expression then, because she whipped around to look behind her. “Is that you, my son?”

  But Otis did not reappear, and Meg couldn’t even hear his steps on the stairs.

  Lady Vyne caught Meg’s eye, her expression questioning. “I wonder what is keeping my son away?”

  “I cannot imagine, my lady,” she murmured.

  Lady Vyne’s gaze shifted ever so slightly to Miss Milne and a wry smile crossed her face. “I hope whatever it is doesn’t keep him from joining us for dinner.”

  “I cannot imagine it would,” Meg reassured her.

  Lord Clement had never missed a meal since Meg had arrived. She had enjoyed his company immensely as his conversation had filled the void of emptiness inside her. He had enlivened every meal with his conversation in a way Hector never had. But with the Milnes visiting too, she would not be able to monopolize his time anymore.

  Lady Vyne turned to Miss Milne. “Perhaps you’d like to retire to your room to recover from the journey for a short time before we meet again at dinner. If you are still hungry, I can have a tray of tea and sandwiches sent to your room.”

  Miss Milne beamed. “Thank you, my lady. I would indeed be grateful for some time alone with my thoughts if you can spare me.”

  Miss Milne left after reassurances were offered. Escorted by her maids and a footman to show her the way upstairs, Miss Milne swept out with a cheerful wave.

  “She seems nice,” Meg murmured.

  Lady Vyne nodded. “One can only hope it lasts.”

  “Ah, there you are, Mother,” Lord Clement exclaimed as he reappeared but at a different doorway than the one he’d used before.

  His mother smiled in relief. “We were beginning to worry about you.”

  “I ventured upstairs to check on the boy. He’s doing better I think.”

  “Did he jump all over you again?”

  “Begged to be put on my shoulders and carried around.” Lord Clement glanced her way with a smile. “How are you today, Lady Margaret. Warm enough, I trust?”

  “Indeed I am.”

  His mother leaned forward. “I’m afraid you just missed meeting the new visitors.”

  Lord Clement’s eyes widened in apparent surprise, and then he turned to Meg. “What visitors?”

  Lady Vyne was only too happy to relate the particulars of the new guests.

  “Well, I’m sorry to hear Miss Milne has retired for a while. Damn awful timing really. I was just about to suggest we all take another walk together.” He turned to Meg suddenly, brows rising in question.

  Meg grinned. “I’d be happy to join you today.”

  Chapter 8

  Otis rested his feet on the wall in the corner of the library and wet his finger, ready to turn the page. Meg’s book was truly terrible but he couldn’t rest until he’d caught up with the beginning of the story. He’d sent Lady Margaret a request for the loan of the book so he could catch up late last night, and his valet had delivered it to him at daybreak, before he’d managed to make plans to do anything else.

  Beginning a s
tory in the middle had been vastly unsatisfying to him, and he wanted to discuss the whole book with Lady Margaret the next time they met for a reading. Thankfully, he was a quick reader, and he was already a quarter of the way through the story. Unfortunately, his meeting with Meg to read together would be delayed because he was required to spend time with the Milnes that afternoon instead. Father had insisted on being present.

  Otis was expected to meet with them at four in this room, resplendent to begin a courtship, but the story was much more interesting than sizing up any woman for marriage.

  He lifted his eyes and rested the open book against his chest and gave thanks for Lady Margaret and her unusual choice of reading material. Otis found her utterly charming and far more interesting than Miss Milne. Lady Margaret was quite the surprise really, given the odd remarks Hector had said to her detriment in recent years. Very lively—now that she’d settled into the informal pace of the estate and its occupants. Much more talkative than upon her arrival, too, and spending time with her was no hardship. So entirely kissable that he didn’t quite trust himself still.

  It was clear that Mother’s affection for Lady Margaret was reciprocated, and his siblings begged for her company constantly. Hector would obviously have no trouble finding her a husband once she was comfortable with the idea. She seemed a truly uncomplicated creature. That was a quality quite rare in his experience with women of the ton.

  “Yes, I think we will all be very comfortable here,” a man said suddenly to Otis’ right.

  “I hope so,” a woman replied.

  Otis risked a peek as the voices grew louder and louder. No doubt it was the Milnes prowling the house. They were drawing closer to the library and his hiding spot. He could not see them but because he’d left the door slightly ajar, what he soon heard was more than enough for one day.

  He closed Meg’s book and set it behind him.

  “Vyne assures me he’ll propose before the week is out,” Mr. Milne boasted.

  “Yes, Papa,” Miss Milne agreed, but to Otis, she did not sound so confident about her chances.