Winter Wishes: A Regency Christmas Anthology

by Cheryl Bolen

  While he had often turned to Mary for assistance while he was at Cambridge, he now found himself in possession of a growing need to protect her. With her father gone, she was all alone in the world. Every time he thought that she had nearly spent Christmas by herself in a boarding house, he grew angry with himself again. He had abandoned her.

  Adelaide and Charles had taken the lead in the walking party, with Lady Alison and Aunt Maude following close behind. Hugh and Mary were left to bring up the rear. His family members marched on ahead, creating an ever-growing gap between them.

  Mary slipped but managed to steady herself. “Oops, nearly,” she said. Hugh reached out and took her arm. He looked down and saw the patch of black ice she was standing on.

  “Here, step toward me. There are some drier spots over this way,” he said.

  She took a step toward him, but the black ice caught her a second time. As her feet went out from under her, Hugh steadied himself and wrapped his arms around her.

  They stood in silence for a moment. A little white cloud of condensation hung between them as they both breathed heavily in the cold air.

  “Thank you. I am glad you are surer of foot than me,” she finally said.

  Her head rose, and in that instant, Hugh was certain he had been clubbed with the hilt of a highland dirk. The green eyes which held him were mesmerizing. He blinked hard. Who was this enchantress who had stolen the body of kind, helpful Mary? His love for her had coalesced into something deeper, something more powerful.

  Pure. Raw. Desire.

  He brushed a hand on her cheek and leaned in close. His heart was hammering in his chest. Closer. She batted her long eyelashes. Closer. Her lips parted. Closer.

  “Come on, you two, we need to get to Dunn’s before nightfall!” bellowed Maude.

  Hugh muttered several very un-Christmas-like words under his breath as Mary turned her head away. He waved to his family, who he was not surprised to see were all staring daggers at Maude.

  “Coming,” he replied through gritted teeth.

  In the village, they headed for the local store: Dunn’s. As soon as she stepped inside, Mary felt immediately at home. Unlike the fancy shops in Edinburgh, Dunn’s was more like the usual places where Mary shopped in Cambridge. A one-stop shop for most things.

  “Have you ever tried tablet before?” asked Hugh.

  “No. What is it?” replied Mary.

  “It’s made from sugar and cream,” said Hugh, handing her a piece.

  “And a dram of whisky if you have any self-respect,” added Maude.

  Mary popped the tablet into her mouth. The buttery confection was a delight. So chewy and yet so soft. She hummed with happiness.

  She wiped the sugary crumbs from her lips, then licked her finger. “That was marvelous,” she said.

  Hugh offered her another piece. Then, for some inexplicable reason, he stood and watched her eat it. When she licked her fingers again, she was certain she heard him swallow deep. The barest hint of a moan escaped his lips.

  He quickly returned to the counter and purchased another two bags of tablet, handing them both to Mary who put them into the pocket of her new coat.

  Before they left the village shop, Mary made a mental note of some inexpensive items which would make suitable Christmas gifts. With a little more practice in her hobnail boots, she felt confident that in time she could make the trip back to the village on her own.

  “Thank you, Mister Dunn. As always, it is a pleasure to visit your shop,” said Lady Alison, as they finalized their purchases and made for the door. Aunt Maude stuffed a boiled sweet into her mouth and nodded her agreement.

  Mary allowed Hugh to take her arm for the return walk home. She told herself it was purely for safety’s sake and to please Hugh. She was his guest and should not refuse him any kindness he wished to bestow upon her.

  She pulled the bag of tablet from out of her coat pocket and offered it to him. With a polite ‘thank you’ and a smile which had her blinking hard, he took out two pieces. He handed the largest piece to Mary and popped the other one into his mouth.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  “For what?”

  “For the delicious tablet. For saving me on the road earlier. Just everything.” As she placed her arm once more in his, Mary made a fateful decision. She would not hold back from enjoying this Christmas. Wherever she spent her next Christmas, she would always have this one to remember him by. A happy memory of a treasured friendship. Of a love that, though it was unrequited, still gave her joy.

  After New Year’s she would return to England, and she would let him go.

  As Hugh and Mary led the way home, Lady Alison took a hold of her daughter’s arm. She smiled at Adelaide.

  “It is lovely to have you home, my darling. And wonderful to be able to hold my new grandson. You and I need to catch up on so much.”

  Adelaide raised an eyebrow. “Thank you, Mama. It is wonderful to be home in Scotland. Is there anything particularly pressing that you wish to discuss with me?”

  Lady Alison leaned in close. “Well, since you asked. May I enquire as to whether you were able to secure a particular item in Edinburgh?”

  Adelaide gently patted her mother’s arm. “You didn’t think I would dare to arrive without it, did you? Charles had it well hidden in our luggage.”

  Lady Alison softly chortled. “Well done, my dear. Now it just remains to see if we can make magic happen a second time.”

  Aunt Maude followed behind, tucking into her bag of boiled sweets before offering one to Charles who walked alongside her.

  “Witchcraft at Christmas, hmm,” she gruffly remarked.

  Chapter 11

  The whisky hit the back of Mary’s throat, and she held a hand to her chest. Heat coursed through her body, right to her toes.

  “I have had a hot toddy before, but never straight whisky. I can see why you would need a bottle or two of it here to see you through winter,” she said.

  After their visit to the village, Mary had been stolen away from Hugh and pressed into service by the women. While the great hall was to be utilized by the family for a small Christmas gathering, its main purpose was as a place for all the castle staff and villagers to gather for Hogmanay at New Year’s.

  “It is not officially Hogmanay until you can smell the wild boar roasting over the fire pits in the center of the castle courtyard,” said Lady Alison.

  Aunt Maude rubbed her hands. “I cannae wait.”

  Mary was surprised to see the Radley women dressed in simple brown woolen gowns with aprons. The dowager duchess held a broom in her hand, and she was sweeping ash from around the fireplace.

  Maude was seated in a chair, tying together bundles of what appeared to be small branches of juniper. Beside her on the floor sat an impressive pile of completed work.

  “Hogmanay traditions are to be kept. The first one is for the women of the family to clean the castle from top to bottom. It’s like spring cleaning in England, only the redding is done in preparation for New Year’s Day,” explained Lady Alison.

  “Redding?” replied Mary.

  “We clean the house now, then at Hogmanay we sweep all the ash from the fireplace so that our home is clean for the start of the new year. We light the juniper bundles and walk them around the castle to ward off bad spirits from the old year. The other bundles are for the villagers to take with them and perform the ceremony in their homes.”

  Lady Alison handed Mary the broom and pointed to the back of the great hall. Mary was used to cleaning the small apartment at the university, so domestic work was not an issue. What did have her gripping the broom handle tight was the notion that she was considered a member of the family.

  “If you would like to start sweeping from the back, I will get another broom and work in from the sides. Oh, and don’t fret over the rest of the castle; it was all done last week. I wouldn’t press you into service in such a way on your first Christmas here,” she said.

  Fir
st Christmas.

  Mary caught the remark. It sounded like Lady Alison expected to see her at Strathmore Castle in future years; not just this one. If only that could be.

  Adelaide and Lady Caroline appeared at the foot of the stairs. Adelaide carried a red box in her hands, holding it with obvious reverence as she walked into the great hall. Mary could only imagine what precious treasure was contained within.

  Adelaide set the box down on a table out of the way of where the women were working. “Nearly time,” she said.

  Lady Caroline took a seat in a nearby chair while Adelaide picked up a dust cloth and began to bustle about the great hall, dusting and polishing every surface as she went. Lady Alison came and spoke to Lady Caroline, who said only a few words before rising from her chair and leaving the room.

  As she passed, Mary could see that she was pale, and her features drawn. She gave Mary a wan smile as she made her way to the stairs. The duchess had been quiet the whole time, barely saying anything beyond the minimum required by good manners.

  Two castle servants appeared at the front door of the great hall. One carried a wooden step and hammer, while his companion had a large coil of rope hanging over his shoulder and a piece of wood in his hand.

  They bowed to Lady Alison, and she pointed toward a spot on the floor. “That should do nicely. If I recall, that is the same spot we used last year.”

  The man with the rope took the piece of wood and tied them together. He then stood on the stool and began to throw the wood up toward one of the oak beams which supported the roof of the great hall. His colleague held onto the other end of the rope.

  Mary stopped her sweeping and, along with the others, watched in silent fascination at the goings on. On the fourth attempt, the wood cleared the beam and then came rattling back toward the floor. The servant holding the rope pulled back, stopping the wood before it could hit the ground. He tied off a knot in the rope, but left the wood hanging.

  With this piece of work now complete, the two men stood back from the stool.

  Adelaide put down her dust cloth and retrieved the box she had brought with her. With a curtsy to her mother, she handed it over.

  “Lady Caroline is indisposed this afternoon and has asked that I continue my role for this year,” announced Lady Alison.

  Mary set her broom aside and walked over to where the others stood. She was eager to see what item of importance lay within the box that warranted such a ceremony.

  Lady Alison removed the black ribbons which held the box closed and handed them to Adelaide. With great reverence, the lid was lifted. Mary and Aunt Maude both leaned in close, peaking over the side of the box.

  A golden ball of mistletoe sat before them.

  Aunt Maude and Lady Alison both gasped. The castle servants turned and bowed low to Adelaide.

  Mary didn’t know where to look. All this had been for a branch of mistletoe. She stifled a nervous laugh.

  “Absolutely magnificent. Adelaide, you have done your family proud,” whispered Lady Alison. A soft smile sat on Aunt Maude’s face.

  Mary’s clear lack of understanding of the significance of the moment, together with her embarrassment, were saved by the arrival of Ewan, Hugh, and Charles through the front doors of the great hall.

  With a solemn look on his face, the Duke of Strathmore strode over to where the mistletoe lay in the box. He looked down, paused for a moment, then nodded. “Near-perfect formation. Bright coloring. And just the right amount of branch on the end. I couldn’t have chosen better myself.”

  “I know,” replied Adelaide.

  Ewan chuckled at his sister’s words. “Now to get this beast up where it belongs.”

  After the hammer and a nail were handed to him, Ewan set to work attaching the branch of the mistletoe to the piece of wood. Several more nails were added before he stood back and declared that the job was done.

  Everyone watched while the wood was hauled back into the air, coming to rest some ten feet above the floor. The rope was then tied off a second time with a firm knot.

  Hugh came to Mary’s side. “The hanging of the mistletoe is a very important part of the annual festivities. I am glad you were here to be able to witness it,” he said.

  She felt safe enough to ask him the obvious question. “I know people in England see it as a fun part of Christmas—most everyone has kissed under the mistletoe — but why is it so important here?”

  “Because it holds real magic,” he whispered.

  She met his eyes. Hugh was about to become a curate for the Church of England, and yet here he was talking about magic. She had never known him to be anything other than serious about matters of his faith and life’s calling.

  “It’s alright; I won’t get thrown out of the church for respecting old customs and ways. All forms of religion have a degree of believing in something we don’t fully understand,” he said.

  If her father could hear Hugh right now, he would be frowning with disapproval. Professor James Gray had been strict to the letter in his observance of the scriptures.

  “This is Scotland; we do things a little differently here,” he added.

  With the mistletoe now in place, eager looks passed between the members of the gathering.

  Charles slipped an arm around Adelaide’s waist and drew her to him. She pretended to bat away his amorous advances but did not put up a fight when her husband steered her in the direction of the mistletoe.

  “Just remember that with great power comes great responsibility. We expect to hear word of a new arrival from the two of you if you dare to kiss under the Strathmore mistletoe,” said Ewan.

  Charles laughed, and taking his wife in his arms, he gave her a soft, loving kiss.

  Applause rippled throughout the great hall. The mistletoe had captured its first couple.

  “And there will be many more before it comes down after Hogmanay. I wonder who will be next,” said Adelaide.

  Mary kept her gaze fixed on the rest of the group, quietly praying that Hugh did not see the heat which she felt burning on her cheeks. She could only pray that she was one of those whom the magic of the mistletoe would touch.

  Chapter 12

  Hugh hadn’t failed to see the bright red of Mary’s cheeks as she watched Charles and Adelaide embrace.

  No one who witnessed the kiss could have been left unaffected. French-born Charles Alexandre wore his passion for his wife on his sleeve. Hugh sensed a small pang of jealousy toward his sister and her joyful union, but he chided himself for it. Adelaide had found Charles after a long period of heartbreak and deserved every moment of happiness.

  After the mistletoe ceremony, Mary slipped from the great hall. Hugh spent the rest of the afternoon in Ewan’s study, discussing estate matters. He was not the duke, but as the second son of the house, and heir presumptive, he still had his duties to perform.

  “Now I have tallied up the heads to receive Handsel Monday coin purses, and it stands at fifty-seven. Master Crowdie has confirmed the number,” said Ewan.

  Hugh sat and stared at his hands; his mind was completely elsewhere. His thoughts focused solely on Mary.

  “I thought we should give every man one hundred pounds.”

  One hundred pounds.

  “What?!” replied Hugh.

  Ewan sat and stared at his brother. “I thought that might get your attention. I know you find estate matters a tad boring, but if you could just concentrate for a few minutes, then you can go back into the hall and continue to make doe eyes at Miss Mary Gray.”

  Hugh had been caught daydreaming, a fact he could not deny. “Is it that obvious?”

  Ewan chuckled. “Yes. Do you remember when I had a small thing for Lord Stirling’s daughter some years ago? Well, the look I wore on my face all that summer is the very same one you have had plastered to your face since you got here. I’m surprised that the two of you are not already betrothed.”

  “Her father was my professor, and so pursuing his daughter would not have bee
n proper. And now that she is alone, it is going to be difficult to convince her that I am acting beyond mere pity for her changed circumstances. Add to that the fact that I do not know if she holds any romantic feelings for me, and you will have an understanding of how complicated this situation actually is,” replied Hugh.

  Ewan sat back in his chair with a look of serious contemplation on his face. If anyone had an appreciation of dealing with a complicated love life, it was him. He had thrown Lady Caroline Hastings over in order to marry her sister, only to be jilted by his fiancée who had died while giving birth to his illegitimate son. It was a miracle he had managed to win Caroline back and secure her hand in marriage.

  “The only advice I can give you, if you are asking for it, is to be honest with her. It took some time for me to come to that realization when Caroline and I were estranged. Make a promise to yourself that before New Year’s, you will talk to Mary and tell her how you feel. It was the only thing that brought Caroline back to me in the end.”

  “Yes.”

  “Oh, and don’t let Mama or any of the others try to play cupid. They got away with it, last Christmas, but that is because they had my infant son David to wave under Caroline’s nose. You don’t have the luxury of a sweet-faced bairn to win Mary over to you.”

  “Try just a bite.”

  Mary looked at the ladle and screwed up her face. Hugh tried not to laugh. It had taken more than a little coaxing to get her to consider attempting a mouthful of haggis. But now that it sat before her on the spoon, she hesitated.

  “Couldn’t I have another piece of the blackbun instead?” she said.

  “No. The rest of the blackbun is for Hogmanay. We only got to try some today because cook had made an extra batch. Come on, you have to try a spot of haggis; it is the law.” He waved the ladle under her nose, laughing when she finally opened her mouth and let him feed her. She didn’t chew for a moment, a look of distaste evident on her face. Offal was not to everyone’s liking.