O Night Divine: A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales

by Kathryn Le Veque

  “I am glad the boy will have such a good place to go.”

  “It is familiar to him. He will have the support of the other students, as well.”

  “Then I will bid you good day, Your Grace, and if I do not see you again, I wish you a Happy Christmas.”

  Reid went inside and greeted the two servants before going to the corner where Mr. Pickens lay. The farmer’s eyes were closed. Edward and Thomas sat talking quietly.

  He observed the flushed face and realized Pickens’ fever had spiked again. The farmer, though asleep, shook with chills, even as his clothing seemed soaked with sweat.

  “Have you been able to speak to your father today?” he asked.

  “A little,” Edward responded. “Doctor Bradford told us his fever is high. His sputum is more blood than green mucus. We can’t get anything down him. Not even Cook’s broth.”

  The boy looked utterly dejected. Reid’s heart went out to him.

  “Why don’t we let your father get some rest? You two could use a little break from the vigil you’ve been keeping each day. Since Arthur and Harry’s parents have arrived and they will be leaving tomorrow, why don’t you come home with me now and spend some time with them? They plan to go riding later. It would do the both of you good to get some exercise.”

  Doubt flickered in Edward’s eyes, which had dark circles under them from lack of sleep. Reid looked to Thomas, hoping the boy would encourage his friend. Thankfully, Thomas seemed to pick up the unspoken cue.

  “Your papa is resting now, Edward. We should do as His Grace says. Besides, we won’t see Arthur and Harry for a while. It would be good to spend a little time with them.”

  “All right,” Edward said. He stood and leaned over, kissing his father’s brow.

  As Reid led the boys from the cottage, he told the servants, “Send word if any change occurs.”

  Since the carriage wasn’t waiting for them, Reid placed both boys onto Thunder’s back and led the horse home the two miles. He could tell Edward and Thomas were excited to be in the saddle atop such a large horse.

  They arrived at the stables and he told them to go wash up and find Arthur and Harry. As they started back toward the house, the boys emerged with Dalinda and Rhys.

  Reid introduced the boys to the couple and before he could say anything, Arthur suggested Edward and Thomas come along on the ride.

  “A splendid idea, Arthur,” he seconded. “I will tell Cook you four boys will have dinner tonight. Just yourselves with no adults.”

  Harry whooped at the idea of no adult supervision and Reid told Arthur to make sure his brother behaved.

  He went inside and gave Ashley the news from Dr. Bradford. She looked exhausted and he suggested she nap for a while, which she readily agreed to do.

  They sat down to an early dinner with Dalinda and Rhys and adjourned to the drawing room once they finished the meal. Dalinda excused herself, an odd look on her face, and so Reid waited for her anxiously. When she did, he saw Ashlyn and Rhys were in conversation, pouring over an atlas they had pulled from a shelf, giving him a few moment alone with his stepmother.

  “Are you well?” he asked, noticing she seemed pale.

  She nodded and glanced to her husband. “Not really. But it’s in a good way.”

  “You are with child?”

  “I believe so. It’s very early. I haven’t even missed my courses yet but I will know in a few days. From having birthed Arthur and then Harry, though, the early signs are there. A bit of queasiness. Tenderness in various places.”

  “You should tell Rhys,” he said.

  “I will. Soon. It will be hard to hide it from him when I awaken and rush to the chamber pot to empty my belly.” A flush rose on her cheeks. “I mean . . .” Her voice trailed off.

  “No need to be embarrassed because you sleep together,” he told her. “I wouldn’t have Ashlyn sleep apart from me for one night.”

  “Truly?” she asked.

  “Perhaps we are a different generation than our parents,” Reid said. “Perhaps someday, everyone in the ton will marry for love.” He paused. “You seem happy, Dalinda.”

  She smiled radiantly. “Deliriously so. Don’t misunderstand me, Reid. Your father taught me so much. He protected me. Gave me confidence. Cared for me. But he told me from the beginning that he would always love your mother. We enjoyed a happy marriage but never loved one another.”

  Dalinda gazed at her husband. “Rhys is my great love. I thank the heavens nightly for bringing him into my life. And my boys. He adores Arthur and Harry and is already a good father to them.” Her hand came to her belly. “He will love this child, too.”

  “I know how much I am looking forward to when Ashlyn delivers our babe,” he said. “It will be nice that our children will be close in age.” He took her hand. “I hope we—and our families—will always be close, Dalinda.”

  “I would like that, Reid. You have chosen very well in Ashlyn. I admire her so much, especially with all she has done with Dunwood Academy.”

  “She is a remarkable woman. Just as you are. My father was lucky to have been married to two wonderful women.”

  As they joined their spouses, Reid thought of the child that would be born next April.

  And the one they would take on in Edward Pickens.

  Chapter Four

  It surprised Reid when Pickens seemed to improve again in the days leading up to Christmas, though he worried that the slight improvement gave Edward false hope. Dr. Bradford shared that he’d seen patients with pneumonia begin to recover, only to be overcome by their illness and die within a few hours.

  On Christmas Eve, Ashlyn insisted that while the boys spend a few hours with Mr. Pickens that morning, they should accompany Reid and several of the servants in gathering greenery. The weather was chilly and they returned with plenty of foliage in which to decorate Gillingham. Ashlyn had them drink some of the hot wassail to warm themselves and then spent time directing where the collected greenery was to be placed. They took the time to admire their work and then had an early supper with the two boys before tucking them into bed. His wife had moved Edward and Thomas from the wing where they usually slept into a nearby guest bedchamber. Edward had insisted he and Thomas share so neither would be alone.

  Afterward, they went to their own rooms, Reid serving as lady’s maid and undressing Ashlyn, preparing her for bed. They made delicious, slow love to one another, their limbs intertwined as they talked for a good hour.

  “You don’t mind that this was a quiet Christmas?” she asked. “No guests other than two boys?”

  He kissed her brow. “My last Christmas was dreary, spent on the Continent, surrounded by thousands of soldiers. I rather like having this one be small. Besides, it will be our last alone. This time next year, we will have a newborn.”

  “Well, not so new,” she said. “The babe will be eight months or so, depending upon when I deliver.” She hesitated and then asked, “How long do you think Mr. Pickens has?”

  “It’s hard to say. I think it will be soon.”

  He listened as Ashlyn fell asleep and then sometime later, felt something against his palm, which rested against her belly. The sensation came again and he knew it was their child.

  “Good night, little one,” he whispered just as he fell asleep.

  Ashlyn had breakfast served in the winter parlor, a small room that she found intimate and cozy. Placed by each boy’s plate was a small gift, which she allowed them to open.

  “Thank you, Your Graces,” Thomas said as he managed to get his box unwrapped first.

  “Yes, thank you,” Edward echoed. “I have needed new mittens for some time. And I don’t think a person can ever have enough books. I will take this today and read from it to Papa.”

  When breakfast ended, Thomas said he wanted to stay back today with Ashlyn while Reid escorted Edward to see his father.

  “Someday, I want to have a family like yours, Your Grace,” Thomas told her. “You are so kind and gen
erous. His Grace will be such a good papa to your baby.” The boy frowned. “Not all papas are good ones. I understand that my papa doesn’t love me and never will. He will marry again and have other children. His wife won’t want me around because I will remind her that Papa was married to someone before her.”

  She wondered at the insight this twelve-year-old boy had.

  “You don’t know that for sure, Thomas,” she began.

  He shook his head. “I do, Your Grace. Don’t worry about me, though. I have found family here. Especially Edward. He is my brother until the end of time.”

  “I know how loyal you have been toward Edward and how he must appreciate all the support you have given him by accompanying him on the visits to see his father,” she said.

  “Mr. Pickens will die. Today or tomorrow. My grandmother died of winter fever. She seemed to get better and then she didn’t. I will be here for Edward when that happens. I think if we talk about it, it will make him feel better.”

  Ashlyn hugged the boy to her. “You are a good friend, Thomas.”

  His eyes widened and he pulled away from her. “Was that the baby?”

  She smiled. “Probably so. Give me your hand.”

  He did and she placed the palm flat against her belly.

  “Wait. There, did you feel that?”

  He grinned. “I did! I felt the baby.”

  Thomas remained with Ashlyn until early afternoon. She had told Reid to be home by two for Christmas dinner, allowing the servants plenty of time to prepare their own feast in the servants’ hall.

  When he came into the room, he led Edward with him. She took one look at the boy and knew. Opening her arms, Edward flew into them and Ashlyn did her best to comfort him.

  “Christmas will always remind me of Papa’s death,” Edward said once his tears subsided.

  “We celebrate the birth of Our Lord on this day,” she said. “Why don’t you choose to celebrate the relationship you had with your father? I think it is best to remember him in life and all the good times you shared.”

  The boy brightened. “I like that idea, Your Grace. Although I will mourn now, I will mark Papa’s life this time next year instead of his death.”

  “We also have something to discuss with you, Edward,” Reid began.

  “Should I leave?” Thomas asked.

  “No. Stay,” Edward said. Looking to Ashlyn, he said, “I know I am on scholarship to Dunwood Academy. I understand if you wish to give it to someone else after this year, Your Grace. I will turn twelve next month. I don’t wish to go to an orphanage. I have heard they are terrible places. I am old enough to earn my own living.”

  “I wish I could ask you to live with me, Edward,” Thomas said. “But you know my father doesn’t really want me. He’s certain not to want you.”

  “Enough of such gloomy talk,” Reid declared. “Her Grace said this time next Christmas we will celebrate the birth of Christ and the loving, close relationship Edward had with his father. What we would also like to celebrate is that this day also brought you to us.”

  “What?” Edward asked, confusion creasing his brow.

  “We want you to be part of our family, Edward,” Ashlyn said. “You will keep your name because it is your link to your father but we want you to become His Grace’s ward. And we wish to give you our love. What do you say?”

  Edward’s mouth trembled. “I would say that although I am sad to lose Papa that I am a very fortunate boy. I don’t know how to thank you.”

  “You might be able to do the same someday when you are grown,” Reid said. “Help someone else in need.” He ruffled Edward’s hair and then did the same to Thomas. “Happy Christmas to you, boys.”

  “Happy Christmas,” Ashlyn said, once again feeling her baby kick, as if he or she agreed to taking on Edward.

  Epilogue

  Gillingham—December 1830

  Ashlyn looked at Bellows and asked, “Are you ready for this to be your last Christmas in service?”

  The butler nodded. “I am, Your Grace. While I have enjoyed my years at Gillingham tremendously, I think living in a cottage by the sea and fishing every day will be an ideal way to spend my last years.”

  She laughed. “Well, you know that we will keep you plenty busy during the Yuletide season.”

  “I look forward to it, Your Grace.”

  She went to the drawing room where her children had gathered. Her oldest child had arrived home from his first term at university only days ago. He sat playing a lively game of cards with his three siblings. She looked out over her girls, sixteen and fifteen, and saw how much they favored her, with the same golden blond tresses and amethyst eyes. Both boys resembled their father, with Reid’s dark hair and melted chocolate eyes. They also had his height, though at twelve, her younger son was almost as tall as his brother. She thought he would probably grow another few inches before he stopped.

  Marcus saw her and motioned her to come over. He was the Marquess of Medford and would one day be the Duke of Gilford.

  “Mama, my sisters have turned into card sharps while I have been away. I am certain they are cheating.”

  Both girls raised innocent eyes. Eyes that held glints of mischief.

  “You are the university man, Marcus,” she proclaimed. “If you can’t catch them at it, I have no advice for you.”

  “Well, Charlie would never cheat,” Marcus said.

  Charlene—who preferred her nickname of Charlie—was Gray and Charlotte’s daughter, born the same week that Marcus had been. The two had gotten along from the cradle and Ashlyn and Charlotte had predicted that a proposal would occur once Marcus finished his studies at university. The Cramptons would be arriving two days after Christmas and would stay through Epiphany, along with Dalinda and Rhys and their children.

  For now, they had other guests arriving soon. This morning, the last of the students from Dunwood Academy for Young Ladies and Gentlemen had departed, and a new group would take their place for two days of merriment. The group was composed of former students of Dunwood Academy, ones from the early years, when Ashlyn had first opened the school.

  “Remember that we have guests arriving in the next few hours,” she reminded her children.

  “They’ll be friends of Edward’s, won’t they?” her oldest daughter asked.

  “Yes, along with their families. Finish your game so that we can be ready to greet everyone when they arrive.”

  The rest of the afternoon united Ashlyn and the school’s tutors with many familiar faces. There was Peter, his hair still a bright ginger, though his freckles had faded some over time. William, the former braggart who had grown into a quiet, respectful fellow, full of insight. Drake, who still had a mild stutter and had enjoyed some success as an author. Samuel, who had arrived and wanted to be left alone, only to become gregarious and always in the thick of things.

  And, of course, Thomas, who was like a son to them, thanks to his close, lasting friendship with Edward. Now Viscount Dalworth, Thomas was married with two children and the epitome of a country gentleman.

  She, Reid, and their children welcomed all these former students back to Gillingham, along with Edward. Their former ward had graduated from university with the highest of honors and had chosen to come back to Gillingham in order to teach. At thirty, he was already the most beloved member of the staff.

  Soon, he would be named Dunwood Academy’s headmaster at this gathering.

  She watched as Edward introduced his wife, Joellen, to his old friends. They had met at Cambridge, where Joellen’s father was a vicar. It had been love at first sight and they had wed a month after Edward and Thomas had graduated from university. Thomas served as Edward’s best man. Joellen’s father had done a remarkable job of educating his daughter and she, too, taught at Dunwood Academy.

  Reid came to stand beside her, slipping an arm about her waist.

  “I feel like a proud papa,” he told her. “We had a hand in all of these boys’ lives.”

  “Yo
u have been a wonderful role model to all the boys and girls who have come through these doors.”

  He kissed her temple. “You have been the one who has truly made a difference in their lives, Ashlyn.” He paused. “Are you certain you are ready to step away?”

  “It’s time.” She glanced about the room. “Shall we make the announcement now?”

  “I’ll tell Bellows.”

  Reid slipped away and, a few minutes later, reappeared, Bellows and several footman in tow, bearing trays of champagne. They circulated around the room, making sure everyone present had a glass.

  All eyes turned to her and Reid. He laced his fingers through hers and smiled encouraging at her.

  “First, I would like to thank everyone for coming today,” Ashlyn began. “It does my soul good to see so many familiar faces in one room. Of course, you have all matured so you aren’t too familiar looking,” she teased.

  The group chuckled and she continued.

  “Opening Dunwood Academy was a dream of mine. When we lost the original building in a fire, His Grace was gracious enough to allow me to utilize one of the wings at Gillingham for the school. Over the years, we have added female students, but we have kept our numbers small in order to provide a select few with a comprehensive education.”

  “I want to thank my husband for his support all of these years. His Grace has helped me in running Dunwood Academy in every way. He also agrees with me that it is time I stepped aside and left the school in different hands.”

  A collective gasp filled the air.

  “Though Dunwood Academy will continue to operate within the walls of Gillingham, it will have a new headmaster. This individual will provide the proper leadership to carry the school for several decades and I can’t imagine a more capable person to take my place.” She paused, her gaze landing upon her successor. “Please raise your glasses to toast the new headmaster of Dunwood Academy. His Grace and I are naming Mr. Edward Pickens to the role of headmaster.”