The Christmas Card

by Dilly Court

  ‘No, indeed. What would you like to do today?’

  ‘I’d like to go into the square and make a snowman.’

  ‘We’ll see.’

  Flora paused with the spoon halfway to her lips. ‘Why do grown-ups always say that when they really mean no?’

  ‘I’m not saying we won’t, but I think we have to wait and see if your uncle decides to pay us a visit. We can’t go out unaccompanied. You know very well that your mama wouldn’t hear of it.’

  ‘Then I hope Uncle Rory comes today. I’ll paint a picture for him, too.’

  ‘What a good idea,’ Alice said, hoping she sounded more enthusiastic than she was feeling. ‘Perhaps something a little more festive and cheerful would be the thing.’

  ‘I’m not a baby, Alice. I understand.’

  It was late afternoon when Rory breezed into the nursery. Alice had almost given up hope of seeing him that day, but Flora had been convinced that he would visit. She leaped up from the chair where she had been sitting quietly while Alice read her the story of The Little Mermaid, and she threw her arms around her uncle.

  ‘I knew you’d come, but Alice thought you’d forgotten about us.’

  ‘That’s not quite true, Flora,’ Alice protested.

  ‘I would have come upstairs earlier,’ Rory said with an affectionate smile, ‘but I was waylaid by one of my brother’s clients. It took me an age to persuade him that this was not the most appropriate time and place to talk business.

  ‘It will be dark soon,’ Flora said, pouting. ‘I want to make a snowman, Uncle Rory. Please take me into the square. I’ve painted a picture especially for you.’

  Rory threw back his head and laughed. ‘You make it hard to refuse, you bad child.’

  ‘I know,’ she said smugly. ‘That’s what I do best.’

  ‘What do you think, Alice?’ Rory sent her a sideways glance, his eyes twinkling. ‘Shall we humour her?’

  For a moment Alice was at a loss for words. It was such a simple thing to do and it would make Flora happy, but the child was in real danger. She had to warn Rory, but she could not say anything in front of Flora. ‘Mrs Dearborn won’t like it,’ she said softly.

  ‘My sister-in-law is fully occupied with her guests, and my brother is playing cards in the smoking room. Put your coat on, Flora, and wrap up warm because it’s freezing outside.’ He turned to Alice with a warm smile. ‘You, too, Alice. I’m not doing this on my own.’

  ‘I’ve waited all day for this,’ Flora cried excitedly. She danced across the floor to snatch up the painting that she had completed earlier and handed it to him. ‘This is for you.’

  He studied it, nodding with approval. ‘A snow scene. How cleverly you’ve used hints of colour and shade to represent snow on the white background. Did you do this all by yourself, Flora?’

  ‘Yes – well, I did have some help from Alice, but I did most of it.’

  ‘She’s an apt pupil.’ Alice held up Flora’s coat, which had been hanging on the back of a chair since the morning in hope that Rory would make an appearance.

  Rory waited while Alice put on her outdoor garments, eyeing her thoughtfully. ‘We could use talent like yours at the printing works. I’m trying to persuade Freddie to start producing Christmas cards. They’re becoming very popular and we need to keep up with the times.’

  ‘Really? I’ve a copy of the first one ever printed in this country.’ Alice shrugged on her mantle. ‘My father bought it to mark the year of my birth and it’s my most treasured possession.’

  ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen one. Maybe you’d let me have a look at it?’

  ‘Would you really?’ Alice stared at him in amazement.

  ‘Most definitely. It would be of great interest to me.’

  Flora tugged at his hand. ‘Never mind that, may we go out now, please?’

  A fitful sun the colour of a pale primrose slid behind a bank of clouds that threatened another downfall of snow, but there was enough light to enable Flora to set about building a snowman. She was engrossed in her task and Alice drew Rory aside.

  ‘I didn’t want to say anything in front Flora, but Molly Bishop knows where she lives.’

  ‘What?’ Rory’s brows drew together in a frown. ‘How did you find that out?’

  ‘She followed me to Queen Square and accosted me on the front steps of my aunt’s house.’

  ‘Did she hurt you?’

  ‘No, but she wants Flora, and I think she’ll stop at nothing to get her. I don’t believe she’s the child’s mother because the things she has planned for her are wicked and evil …’ Alice broke off, shuddering at the memory of Molly’s vicious threats.

  ‘I’m sorry, Alice,’ Rory said humbly. ‘I’ve brought this on you both. I should have realised that Smithson was lying and out for her own ends. I rewarded her handsomely for the information, which I regret bitterly, but I really thought I was doing something to help poor little Flora to find her real mother.’

  Alice stiffened, staring into the gathering gloom. She grabbed his arm. ‘Look – over there. I think someone is watching us.’

  Chapter Eight

  Rory strode across the snow-covered grass, heading towards the shadowy area beneath the trees, and Alice moved closer to Flora, who was happily oblivious to anything other than the task in hand.

  ‘I need two small bits of coal for his eyes, something for his nose, and a pipe to stick in his mouth and then he’s finished,’ she said excitedly. ‘Isn’t he splendid?’

  ‘Yes, you’ve done well, but it’s getting dark. I think we ought to go indoors.’ Alice glanced over her shoulder and was relieved to see Rory hurrying towards them.

  ‘Whoever it was has gone. I expect he saw me coming.’

  ‘It might have been her,’ Alice whispered. ‘I only saw a vague shape.’

  ‘What are you whispering about?’ Flora demanded, rubbing her hands together and blowing them. ‘Tell me. I want to know.’

  ‘Nothing to concern you, Floss.’ Rory patted her on the shoulder. ‘Let’s go, before we all freeze and turn into snowmen.’

  ‘I’m a snow girl,’ Flora said, laughing. She skipped on ahead to open the gate.

  ‘I really think we ought to warn her parents,’ Alice said in a low voice. ‘Molly made it quite clear that she intended to snatch Flora at the first opportunity, and that nothing would stop her.’

  ‘Leave it with me. I’ll speak to my brother, but it’s best that Lydia knows nothing about it. I started this so it’s up to me to make things right.’

  That evening, as she left the Dearborns’ establishment, Alice could see Horace loitering in the yellow light of a streetlamp. Her annoyance was tempered with relief that it was not Molly. He approached her with a sickly grin on his face and snatched off his top hat, bowing from the waist as if she were royalty.

  ‘Good evening, Cousin Alice.’

  ‘I’m not your cousin, Horace. We’re only related by marriage.’

  ‘Yes, quite.’ He cleared his throat nervously. ‘Might I escort you home? I happened to be passing.’

  She knew he was lying, but her experience the previous evening had left her feeling vulnerable. ‘Please don’t go out of your way on my account.’ She started walking in the direction of Queen Square.

  ‘Jane has invited me to supper,’ he said breathlessly as he lengthened his strides to keep up with her. ‘I suspect it is to make up for missing my family on Christmas Day. I ate a meal of bread and cheese in my room, on my own.’

  ‘We didn’t celebrate in Queen Square, as you know, and I was at my place of employment so you missed nothing.’ She quickened her pace, taking care to keep to the well-trodden path where the snow had turned to slush. Her boots leaked, but that was the least of her worries, and they continued in silence except for the sound of Horace’s stertorous breathing.

  Clara let them into the house. ‘I got to tell you that the missis has been called away to help in the soup kitchen,’ she said importantly. ‘Your m
a is still abed, Miss Alice, but she ain’t took no worse. In fact I’d say she’s a bit better, thanks to me. I been up and down them stairs all day, making sure she’s all right.’

  Alice took off her bonnet and mantle, handing them to Clara with a grateful smile. ‘Thank you. I knew I could rely on you. I’ll go up and see her right away.’

  ‘What about me?’ Horace demanded plaintively.

  ‘Do as you will,’ Alice said over her shoulder. She lit a candle from one on a nearby table and hurried upstairs without giving him a chance to argue.

  Beth was awake and she struggled to sit up when Alice entered the room. ‘How glad I am to see you, my love.’

  ‘How are you feeling, Mama?’ Alice placed the candlestick on the table by the bed. ‘Has Clara been looking after you properly?’

  ‘The poor child has done her best, and I feel such a burden to you all.’

  ‘Nonsense, Mama. You mustn’t think like that. All we want is to see you fit and well again.’ She glanced at the empty grate. ‘I suppose Aunt Jane refused to allow you the luxury of a fire.’

  ‘I don’t expect her to change the habits of a lifetime just for me. I’m quite warm beneath the blankets you found for me.’

  ‘Do you feel well enough to come down to dinner?’ Alice asked anxiously.

  ‘Not tonight. I can’t face the thought of anything other than soup or perhaps some gruel.’ Beth scanned her daughter’s face with a look of concern. ‘Why, what’s the matter?’

  ‘It’s nothing really, Mama. Aunt Jane has invited Horace to dine with us, but she’s gone on one of her mercy missions, leaving me to cope with him on my own. You can imagine how awkward that will be.’

  ‘Help me up, Alice.’ Beth raised herself on her elbow. ‘Jane must have planned it so that you were put in a compromising position. I cannot allow you to dine alone with a single gentleman. I’m coming downstairs if it’s the last thing I ever do.’

  If Horace was disappointed that Alice was being chaperoned he was too polite to let it show. In fact he spent most of the evening devoting his attention to Beth, who coped valiantly even though Alice could see that her mother was tiring. The meal of broth made from the ox head, followed by tough mutton chops and boiled turnips was finished off with a suet roly-poly pudding, which had it been worth its weight in gold would have made them all very rich indeed. Beth managed to eat a little and Alice toyed with the food, trying hard not to compare it with the delicacies served up in Russell Square, but Horace consumed everything on his plate with obvious relish.

  ‘What a splendid meal,’ he said, wiping his lips on the starched white table napkin. ‘My aunt keeps a good table, just as I know you will when we’re man and wife, Alice. I don’t want to seem impatient, but I hope you’ll give me your answer soon.’

  ‘Since you haven’t asked the question you can hardly expect me to know what to say, sir.’ Ignoring her mother’s warning look, Alice assumed an air of innocence. Horace Hubble seemed to have been born lacking a sense of humour, which was something she could not forgive in anyone, let alone the man she might be forced to marry. Sadly, the more she knew of him the more determined she was that such a match would never happen.

  Horace ran his finger round the inside of his starched collar. ‘I think you know what the question is, Cousin Alice.’

  ‘As I told you earlier, I’m not your cousin. We aren’t even friends. In fact, we barely know each other.’

  Beth rose from her seat, grimacing with pain. ‘I think perhaps we should say good night, Horace. I am very tired, but it’s been a delightful evening and I’m sure you want to be on your way.’

  He jumped to his feet, scattering breadcrumbs on the polished floorboards. ‘I must not overstay my welcome. Perhaps Miss Alice would see me out?’

  Alice reached for the bell and rang it. ‘I believe that’s what servants are for, sir.’

  He stared at her nonplussed and then a slow smile creased his face into a grimace. ‘I think you are teasing me, Miss Alice.’

  ‘I was never more serious.’ Alice moved to her mother’s side, helping her to rise. ‘I’ll see you upstairs, Mama.’

  Horace rushed to the door and opened it just as Clara appeared, flushed and with her mobcap slightly askew. ‘I’m sorry, sir. I come as quick as I could but I fell up them stairs. The treads are so worn, missis. I could have broke a leg.’

  Alice struggled to control a bubble of hysterical laughter that welled up inside her. ‘Clara, will you please fetch Mr Hubble’s hat and coat and see him out? He’s leaving now.’

  ‘Yes, miss.’ Clara limped off to fetch Horace’s outdoor garments.

  ‘I really did want to talk to you in private,’ Horace said in a low voice. ‘Could we not have a moment alone, Alice?’

  Beth took her daughter by the arm. ‘That would be entirely improper, Horace. Anyway, I need Alice to help me up to my room, so, again, I’ll bid you good night.’

  Seeing Horace looking abashed and sheepish, Alice felt a sudden wave of pity for him. He was, after all, a pawn in her aunt’s game of succession to the historic Hubble name. She hesitated with her mother leaning heavily on her arm. ‘Horace,’ she said firmly, ‘there is not the slightest possibility that I would agree to marry you. I’m telling you now to save you the embarrassment of proposing to me.’

  His lips trembled and his moustache quivered. ‘But Jane will be so angry.’

  ‘I’m afraid she will,’ Alice said calmly.

  ‘Is there no chance you’ll change your mind?’ Horace sent a pleading look to Beth. ‘Can’t you make her see that it would benefit us all, Mrs Radcliffe?’

  Beth shook her head. ‘I’m afraid that once Alice has made up her mind there is nothing anyone can do.’

  ‘But it would solve all our problems,’ Horace insisted. ‘I have my eye on a pretty little house in Islington where we three could live comfortably. Jane has promised to purchase it for me if I marry and she will give me a generous allowance into the bargain. One day I hope to be promoted to head clerk in the counting house. You could do worse, Alice.’

  ‘That sounds more like a business proposition than a proposal, Horace.’

  ‘I’ve never asked anyone to marry me before.’ He bowed his head, but the calculating glance he gave her belied his humble words.

  Alice had almost fallen into the trap, but she rallied in time. ‘Then I’ve saved you the humiliation of receiving a rebuff. Be grateful for that, Horace.’ She looked round to see Clara standing in the doorway clutching his overcoat and hat. ‘Mr Hubble is leaving now.’

  Having settled her mother in bed Alice made her way slowly downstairs, intending to make the most of the meagre fire in the dining room, but as she reached the foot of the stairs she came face to face with her aunt. Jane did not look pleased. She took off her bonnet and cloak, tossing them at Clara. ‘I want a word with you, Alice.’ She marched into the dining room and Alice had little option other than to follow her, but she was puzzled. Surely Horace had kept his humiliation to himself?

  ‘I suppose you thought I wouldn’t learn of your deceit,’ Jane said, turning on her in a fury.

  ‘Deceit, Aunt? I don’t know what you mean.’

  ‘Don’t put on that innocent face, miss. Horace came to the soup kitchen, quite distraught. He had tears in his eyes when he told me of your cruelty, Alice. I don’t like seeing a man brought to such straits by an ungrateful minx of a girl.’

  ‘He’s lying,’ Alice said calmly. ‘I was just being honest with him.’

  ‘Wicked girl.’ Jane cast her eyes heavenward. ‘You refused his offer of marriage in the most cutting way imaginable. Have you no heart?’

  ‘I have a heart, but it does not belong to Horace, and it never will. I was being frank when I told him that there was no hope for us, and that I wanted to save him the humiliation of being spurned if he ever plucked up the courage to propose.’

  ‘And that is your final answer?’

  ‘It is.’

  ‘T
hen you have no place in my house. From this moment on I’m severing the connection we have through my marriage to your father’s brother. You and your sickly mother are no longer welcome in my home. You will leave tomorrow. Is that clear?’

  It came as a shock even though Alice had known what the outcome would be. ‘Surely you’ll give me time to find alternative accommodation, Aunt? My mother is a sick woman.’

  ‘You’ve had plenty of warning, and you’ve had time to think things over. I want you out of my house by noon tomorrow.’

  ‘Have pity, Aunt Jane. At least allow me a day or two in which to find somewhere to live. I know you’re disappointed in me and for that I’m sorry, but I wouldn’t want to ruin a man’s life by marrying him for money and position. What would Uncle Robert say if he knew how you were treating his brother’s wife and child?’

  Jane recoiled as if Alice had slapped her face. ‘How dare you bring my sainted husband’s name into this?’

  ‘He was your husband, but he was also my uncle. He was a good, kind man, just like my papa, and I know that he wouldn’t want to see my mother suffer unnecessarily.’

  ‘You have brought this on yourselves,’ Jane said bitterly. ‘I’m sure that Beth backed you in your determination to flout my wishes, but for my husband’s sake I’ll give you a few days in which to find alternative accommodation.’ She swept out of the room, almost knocking down Clara, who was standing outside the door, pale-faced and aghast. ‘Go back to the servants’ quarters, you stupid child. I don’t know why I keep you on.’

  Clara turned to flee but caught her foot in Jane’s cloak and fell to the floor, uttering a howl of pain and fright. Jane marched off, heading for the stairs, and it was Alice who raised the sobbing child to her feet. ‘Are you hurt?’

  ‘Me bruises have got bruises,’ Clara sobbed. ‘I hurt me knee again and I think I’m crippled.’

  ‘Let me take the cloak and bonnet and lean on me.’

  With the garments safely stowed in the cupboard, Alice helped Clara to negotiate the back stairs. Mrs Jugg was seated in her usual position by the range, sipping a cup of cocoa. She jumped to her feet when she saw Clara leaning heavily on Alice’s arm.