O Night Divine: A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales

by Kathryn Le Veque

  What she worried about was the fatigue that set in at times, along with the shortness of breath. Her husband encouraged her to relax more and turn over more of her duties to others on her staff. She had selected Mr. Selleck, who taught languages and literature, to act as her associate headmaster. The tutor was organized and efficient and a great favorite of the boys.

  Reid stirred and Ashlyn stroked his arm. Soon, his lips caressed her nape and his hands roamed her body, sending waves of heat through her. She didn’t think she would ever grow tired of this man’s tender touch.

  After they made love, he held her close, nuzzling her neck.

  “You need for Anderson to shave you,” she told him, referring to his valet.

  “Are my whiskers scratching you, love?” he asked, concerned.

  “A bit. But Anderson will have you clean-shaven in no time.”

  Reid sighed. “That means I would have to leave this bed. I am not sure I like that idea.” His arms tightened about her. “You feel too good. Perhaps I shall clear my schedule today and remain in bed to continually make love to my beautiful wife.”

  “What of breakfast with the boys?”

  He kissed her bare shoulder. “We breakfast with your students every morning. Surely, they could get along without us for a single meal.”

  Ashlyn chuckled. “As much as they worry about me nowadays, they would probably storm into our bedchamber to see that I am well. It would most likely be Arthur and Harry leading the charge.”

  He kissed her hair. “Those boys have changed, haven’t they? Mostly, thanks to you, though I do think having Rhys as their stepfather will be good for them.”

  Dalinda, the boys’ mother and Reid’s stepmother, had wed Rhys Armistead, Earl of Sheffington, in August. She had confided to Ashlyn that she hoped she would have more children with her new husband. If so, Arthur and Harry would make for excellent big brothers.

  “Oh!” she said, startled by the sudden, unexpected fluttering in her belly.

  “What’s wrong?” her husband asked sharply, turning her to face him.

  She smiled. “It is what I have been waiting for. The baby is moving. Gemma said it feels as if butterflies are gently flapping their wings inside you.”

  He placed his hand alongside the swell of her belly and waited. “I don’t feel anything.” She heard the disappointment in his voice.

  “Gemma says the fluttering grows stronger and that is when I—and you—will be able to feel the baby kick.”

  He laced his fingers through hers. “This is truly happening, isn’t it? We are going to be parents.”

  “Many times over, I hope.”

  He kissed her, long and deep, and love flowed between them.

  Breaking the kiss, he said, “We better ready ourselves for the day. I can’t have an army of boys invade our bedchamber in search of their headmistress.”

  Half an hour later, they were at breakfast with the academy’s students. Ashlyn always had a penny placed beside each boy’s plate. One by one, she would call upon them, and they would toss their penny into a jar sitting in the middle of the table, sharing any thought they wished to with the others. Once each boy had spent his penny, the conversation opened to all. She thought it a good way to make sure every pupil had a chance to speak and be heard, sharing his feelings without judgment.

  “Why don’t we have Thomas start us off this morning?” she said brightly. “A penny for your thoughts, Thomas.”

  Thomas was new to Dunwood Academy this term and very shy. He had lost his mother the previous spring and had refused to go back to his previous school, frustrating his father. Viscount Dalworth had reached out to Reid, since they had mutual acquaintances, and begged for him and Ashlyn to accept Thomas as a pupil. Ashlyn had a poor impression of the viscount since Lord Dalworth hadn’t brought his own son to school, instead sending a footman to accompany him. The fact the viscount’s country estate was only an hour and half’s carriage ride from Gillingham seemed to make it even worse.

  Though withdrawn at first, she had seen the twelve-year-old slowly emerging from his cocoon, thanks in part to Edward Pickens. Edward was a scholarship student, the son of a local farmer, and quite brilliant. One side of his face was marred by a port-wine stain, commonly referred to as a firemark, but Edward hadn’t let that physical blemish affect his love of learning. He excelled at mathematics and music and was one of the most courteous students Ashlyn had. The boy could put anyone at ease and she had seen how Edward had taken Thomas under his wing. The two boys were inseparable now and Thomas’ confidence had grown as the boys’ friendship had.

  He reached for the penny next to his plate and tossed it toward the jar. It hit the lip and then skittered away, falling to the table. No penalty was assessed if a coin didn’t fall through, though an extra biscuit was awarded at afternoon tea to those who did meet the mark on the first try. Peter, a freckle-faced lad with ginger hair reached for the coin and rolled it down the table toward Thomas.

  “Try again,” he urged. “You hit the jar. It just fell the wrong way.”

  Warmth filled Ashlyn at Peter’s encouragement of Thomas. The boy frowned slightly in concentration and tossed the coin again. This time it sailed through the opening, landing in the center of the jar and clanging as it fell to the bottom of the glass.

  “Well done, Thomas!” Reid proclaimed as a cheer went up among the boys. “What would you like to share with us this morning?”

  Thomas looked a bit intimidated, having the entire table’s attention. He cleared his throat and then said, “Mr. Peterson told me yesterday that I had a perfect score on my latest exam.”

  “That is excellent news, Thomas,” she praised. “Mathematics can be a difficult subject. You must truly understand the concepts Mr. Peterson has taught.”

  “It’s all thanks to Edward, Your Grace,” Thomas said. “He kept after me until I knew the material forward and backward.”

  She favored Edward with a smile. “Thank you for working with Thomas, Edward. I am certain he appreciates the time you spent with him.”

  “I don’t mind at all, Your Grace. I enjoy helping the other boys. Father says if you have a gift, you must share it with others.”

  “Then why don’t you share your thoughts next,” Reid suggested.

  “All right, Your Grace.” Edward thought a moment before tossing his coin toward the jar. It missed and rolled down the table into what would have been Ashlyn’s lap. With her belly swelling, however, it slid across the wide expanse and fell to the ground. The table erupted in laughter.

  They finished breakfast, with each boy taking center stage and having a small moment to shine, and then she dismissed them to go to their various sessions. Reid came and assisted her to her feet.

  “It was a good morning for the boys,” he observed. “A good start to their day. It is nice to see young Thomas coming out of his shell, bit by bit.”

  “Yes,” she agreed. “He was so sad when he arrived. Edward’s friendship, in particular, has certainly helped him come far. Seeing Thomas grow in confidence is but one advantage to running Dunwood Academy.”

  Her husband kissed her cheek. “I will be in my study if you need me.”

  “All right, darling. I also have paperwork I need to attend to.”

  Ashlyn went to her office and had only been working a quarter-hour when Bellows, their butler, knocked at the open door.

  “Hello, Bellows. What is it?”

  “A Lord Dalworth is here to see you, Your Grace. I have placed him in the parlor. Would you care to see him there or would you rather I bring him here?”

  Already a bit tired and thinking how far a walk it would be to the parlor, she replied, “Please bring the viscount to me.”

  “Very good, Your Grace.”

  Bellows disappeared and Ashlyn set aside the letter she was composing, wondering why Lord Dalworth would be calling now. It was only three days until the term ended and the boys would be returning to their homes for their Christmas break. S
he wondered if the viscount wished to bring Thomas home early and that was the reason for his arrival. She had to admit she was curious about the man, especially since he hadn’t accompanied his young son to his new school. She hoped meeting him in person would result in a more favorable impression than the one she now possessed of him.

  Minutes later, Bellows arrived with the viscount in hand and announced him.

  “Do come in, Lord Dalworth. Please, have a seat.”

  The butler looked at her expectantly. “Shall I bring tea, Your Grace?”

  “That would be lovely, Bellows. I am sure Lord Dalworth would like something hot to sip since it is so very cold today.”

  Dalworth sat and glanced to Bellows. “No tea for me. Bring me a brandy instead. That will warm me far more than a weak cup of tea.”

  The butler glanced to Ashlyn, who coolly said, “We do not offer spirits to guests at nine o’clock in the morning, my lord.”

  He looked shocked at having been denied his request.

  “No tea will be necessary. That will be all, Bellows. Thank you.”

  “I will be outside if Her Grace needs anything,” he assured her.

  The butler left and closed the door, giving Dalworth a stern look as he did so.

  “Did you see the impertinent look your butler gave me?” the viscount demanded.

  “Why are you here, Lord Dalworth?” Ashlyn asked, coming straight to the point. She hadn’t liked Dalworth before meeting him and now that she had, she liked the man even less.

  “I need you to look after Thomas,” he said.

  She frowned. “We do that every day, my lord. Dunwood Academy’s instructors see to our pupils’ academic needs, as well as their emotional ones.”

  He cleared his throat. “Of course you do, Your Grace. But I need more from you.” He leaned toward her, as if ready to share a confidence. “You see, I have plans at Christmas and must make arrangements for Thomas.”

  Anger filled her. “Arrangements?” she asked sharply.

  “Yes. I’ve a house party to attend. Thomas has written to me. I know he has made friends here. Edward, I believe, is one of them. Perhaps he could go home with this Edward and then return to Dunwood Academy following his holiday break.”

  Ashlyn wondered what this man would think if she told him that Edward was the son of a farmer.

  “You do realize, Lord Dalworth, that this will be Thomas’ first Christmas without his mother. Holidays are a time for family. I would suggest you forego this house party and spend the holidays with your son. He needs to be nurtured and shown that he is loved.”

  “Balderdash!” the viscount declared. “My late wife coddled the boy far too much as it is. Why, he even cried at her funeral. In public. A boy of twelve.” Dalworth shuddered. “It was most unseemly.”

  Fury now filled her. “Thomas is a little boy. He lost his mother. Naturally, he would express his feelings through tears.”

  “A man shouldn’t cry,” the viscount insisted. “No matter what his age.”

  “You would gallivant at a house party while your son spends Christmas without you?”

  He shrugged. “It is not as if I am close to the boy. He was definitely his mother’s child. They did all sorts of things together.” He paused, his brow furrowing. “And why should I have to explain myself to you, Your Grace?”

  “I do not expect you to do so, my lord. I am merely explaining that it would be—”

  “I have an important house party to attend,” he interrupted. “I intend to offer for Lady Sylvia while I am there. She is plain and plump but has an exceedingly hefty dowry. Her father is looking for someone to take her off his hands since she is already five and twenty.”

  Dalworth leaned back in his chair. “I need that dowry, Your Grace. If you expect to be paid for the next term and the ones beyond, it is imperative that I wed this woman and receive it.”

  She didn’t inform this oaf that she would make sure Thomas remained at Dunwood Academy, regardless of whether he could pay or not. If she didn’t intervene, the boy would spend his holidays alone with nothing but servants while his father washed his hands of having a child.

  “If Edward’s father cannot host Thomas, then His Grace and I will be happy for Thomas to spend the Christmas holidays with us,” she said, ice in her voice.

  The viscount apparently did not read social cues well because a broad smile broke out on his face. “Excellent news. In fact, forget this Edward. I would much rather my boy spend the Christmas season at Gillingham. I will make certain that Lady Sylvia’s father knows that. It’s not every day that a revered duke takes an unrelated boy into his care.”

  Dalworth stood. “Then it’s settled. Thank you, Your Grace. I shall be on my way.”

  She rose and saw his eyes went to her belly, which had been hidden behind the desk.

  “Why, you’re increasing!”

  “Yes. What of it, my lord?”

  He shook his head. “I already thought it odd that His Grace allowed you to run a school from your home. But to be with child and doing so?” Dalworth shook his head. “It’s quite indecent.”

  “My mind is not affected simply because I will give birth this spring, Lord Dalworth,” she said dismissively. “Are you telling me that you plan to depart without even seeing Thomas?”

  He looked baffled by her question. “Why should I? He must be in class now.”

  “He is—but you won’t be seeing him until his next school holidays. Don’t you wish to explain to him why?”

  He harrumphed. “I believe that totally unnecessary, Your Grace. I see no reason to inform a child of anything. You may tell him of our arrangement. Thank you again for seeing to the boy.”

  “Oh, Thomas will most definitely be taken care of. His Grace’s younger brothers are close to Thomas’ age. I am sure they will have a fine time together. Good day, Lord Dalworth.”

  Ashlyn sat as the viscount left, stewing over what had just occurred. Thomas was such a sweet child. He must take after the mother that cared for him so well. It was a pity that Lady Dalworth was the one who had passed away and not her bastard of a husband.

  She needed Reid.

  Leaving her office, she took her time going to his study, her balance a bit wobbly. By the time she reached him, she was out of breath and wondered how the next few months would unfold as she brought their child to term.

  Without knocking, she opened his door and entered. Immediately, he stood and came to her, taking her by the shoulders.

  “What’s wrong, love?”

  “Lord Dalworth is a miscreant. If I were a man, I would have called that dunderhead out,” she declared.

  “Dalworth was here? Now?”

  “He was.”

  Tears spilled down her cheeks, which she found happening more and more at the oddest times. Charlotte had told her to expect them since it was another part of having a baby, becoming emotional at the drop of a hat.

  “Come here and tell me about it,” Reid said, going to a plush chair and sitting in it, pulling her into his lap.

  As Ashlyn told him of her conversation with Lord Dalworth, she sensed him tensing.

  “It is a good thing he asked to see you,” her husband said. “I would have punched him in the face. Thomas is a wonderful child.”

  “Perhaps it’s for the best,” she said. “Obviously, the viscount cares nothing for his boy. Thomas will be happier here in familiar surroundings. It would be nice if Edward could come and spend time with him since his father’s farm is only a couple of miles away.”

  “You’re right. As always,” Reid comforted, smoothing her hair and then kissing her softly. “We will see that Thomas has a good Christmas.”

  A knock sounded at the door and Reid said, “Come.”

  Bellows entered. “Your Graces, Dr. Bradford is here.”

  Ashlyn pushed herself to her feet with help from Reid. “Has something happened to one of the boys?” she asked anxiously.

  “No, Your Grace,” the butler r
eplied. “But Dr. Bradford said it was urgent that he speak with you both immediately.”

  “Very well,” Reid said, linking his fingers with hers.

  With trepidation, Ashlyn accompanied her husband to the drawing room, wondering why the local physician had come to call.

  Chapter Two

  Reid escorted Ashlyn at a slower gait than usual to the drawing room. Always in tune to her, he had become more so ever since she discovered she was with child. He had suffered with her through those first few months, when she couldn’t keep down but a few bites and not only the smell—but merely the thought—of fish had her puking into the nearest ceramic bowl.

  Fortunately, she had regained her appetite and had no problems eating fish or anything else these days. She experienced bursts of energy, followed by short periods of fatigue. He was constantly checking on her. Or checking up on her. He felt like the head of a large spy network, with servants, tutors, and pupils all reporting to him regarding her mood and physical wellbeing throughout the day.

  Two weeks ago, her belly had seemed to pop overnight. Where before she had a small bump, now a much larger one had taken its place, extending her stomach and making her condition easy to see. Ashlyn had taken to unconsciously cradling her belly, endearing her all the more to him as she protected their unborn child. Reid knew his wife would make for an excellent mother. She already mothered all the pupils of Dunwood Academy and half of Gillingham’s servants.

  He wondered why Dr. Bradford was calling now, especially since none of the boys had been injured or were ill. No word had arrived regarding any of their tenants being sick. He could guess all day at the nature of the unexpected call but decided to wait and see what the physician revealed.

  “It seems to take forever to reach the drawing room these days,” she murmured. “I find myself out of breath just walking up the staircase.”

  Reid swept her off her feet and began carrying her down the corridor.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.