Regency Christmas Box Set: Risking it all

by Regina Darcy

  “Father,” Cassandra said, buoyed by the smile from James, “I know that I ought to have told you how I felt about the Duke. But—”

  “There wasn’t any need for you to do so, Cassie,” her sister Delilah said. “I was quite vocal in my opinion.”

  “I thought that you liked being in London,” Cassandra replied, merging what seemed to be opposing thoughts.

  “And so, I do. But I don’t like being regarded as if we are insignificant because we are from the country. He is not a kind man. I would not wish you married to such an overbearing man, not if there were a Duke waiting for each of us to marry. You are my dearest sister, and I wish for you to marry where you love.”

  She did not look at James as she spoke, but it was apparent that Delilah had worked out the reason for his presence at this family meeting.

  “I should have known that,” Cassandra said apologetically. “But I thought that you all were hoping that I would make a good marriage. Not out of selfishness, but out of your love.”

  “And so, we do,” Bethany spoke up. “But can you conceive of the burden of making conversation with him every Christmas?”

  She made one of her comical faces and the sisters laughed at how perfectly Bethany distilled the situation into humour.

  “Perhaps he would give us all fur coats,” Delilah said slyly. “Would we not look like a herd of strange animals walking on two legs, covered in fur?”

  The sisters laughed at this. James found himself intrigued by the easy manner in which they conversed. Here there was no reverent distance between offspring and parents; the daughters were speaking, and the parents were silent. He suspected that this was intentional as if it was important for the sisters to share their views first before the parents weighed in.

  “Is he truly gone, Cassie?” Emily asked.

  Cassandra nodded reassuringly at her younger sister, who had had an aversion to the Duke from the very first time that she had met him.

  “I have told him that I will not marry him.”

  “A very sensible decision, my dear,” Mr Bennet said. “I will not deny that your mother and I have endured some very anxious moments over these past weeks, and when you left without telling us where you had gone, we did not know what to think. I was fearful that the Duke, sensing your reluctance, had abducted you. Your letter to Sarah eased our minds considerably.”

  Cassandra smiled across the room to where Sarah stood, included as if she were family, which, in a way, she was.

  “I thought at first to send it to you and Mother,” Cassandra said, “but I thought it best if you did not know where I was, and I was afraid that the Duke would prod you for answers. I knew that he would never deign to ask Sarah what she knew.”

  Sarah smiled in triumph, her victory over the wellborn all the more precious because the Duke had failed to perceive the affection in the Bennet family which extended beyond the parents and their daughters.

  It was something he was incapable of understanding.

  “I think we were uncertain of how to conduct ourselves with the Duke,” Mr Bennet said thoughtfully. “He was plainly taken by you, and your mother and I did not want to hold you back from an opportunity for a much more prosperous life than that which you would ever expect to enjoy if you did not venture beyond the boundaries of the village. I blame myself for this; I ought to have realised that you are the possessor of good sense and would not be swayed by the false glitter of a title.”

  “Sir,” Delilah addressed James directly, “you are here, I see, as a friend of our sister. Are you acquainted with the Duke?”

  “I am,” he said. “But we did not part as friends last night when he came to me. He apparently thought that I was hiding your sister in my club, the Imperial. I was not.”

  “But Mr Dalton did find a place for me to stay where I would be safe from the Duke and also from detection, while I decided what I must do,” Cassandra said, intent that her family should recognise James for the aid that he had provided.

  “Oh?” Mrs Bennet inquired. “Where was this place?”

  “There is an inn near my place of business,” James told her. “It is run by honest, working folk—a man and his widowed sister—who looked after Miss Bennet and saw to her comfort and safety.”

  “I see,” Mrs Bennet said. “And Cassandra… you were safe during this time?”

  “Very safe, Mother,” Cassandra assured her, knowing that Mother wanted assurance that her sojourn at the inn had not been part of a nefarious web of bawdy encounters involving the Imperial. She doubted that her mother was familiar with the gentlemen’s club, but even so, she did not want Mother to think the worst of James because of his business. “I was alone, in a room to myself. James came over to join me for lunch, in a private room, when he could leave the club. Otherwise, I spent time in my room, knitting and sewing. Mrs Anthrop, the innkeeper’s sister, was very kind.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  “Sir,” Mr Bennet said, “it would appear that we owe you our thanks for your aid to our daughter.”

  “I was pleased to offer it,” James said. “I hope that you will look favourably on me, as I am now about to ask for your permission to court Miss Bennet.”

  Mr Bennet looked startled; his wife did not.

  “Courtship!” he exclaimed. “What is this about?” Frowning, he looked towards his daughter. “Have you cast off one suitor in favour of another?”

  “It is not so strange, Father,” Cassandra said calmly, “that I should be thinking of marriage. Knowing how unhappy I should be as the Duke’s wife made me all the more particular about what sort of husband I do want to be with.”

  “Enter Mr Dalton?” inquired Mrs Bennet drily.

  Cassandra blushed.

  “I… sought his help,” she admitted. “I did not know what to do. I wanted to be free of the Duke but I did not know how to accomplish this on my own.”

  “How did you come to meet Mr Dalton?” Mrs Bennet wanted to know. James perceived that his future mother-in-law was not a woman to lose track of the various threads in the coil of a story.

  “I met Miss Bennet when she and the Duke were on their way into a jewellery shop,” he took up the tale. “I was impressed by her beauty, as any man would be, but also by what appeared to me to be her unhappiness. Her image stayed in my mind after I left them. Here was a young woman, about to go into a jeweller’s, in the company of a Duke, and she seemed monstrously unhappy.”

  “I could not but notice how kind he was,” Cassandra went on. “And after the ball, when I realised that I simply could not marry the Duke, I was desperate to find a place to run to. And I ran to him.”

  “Dear God!” Mrs Bennet declared. She did not need to voice her fears for what the consequences of that action might have evolved into.

  “He was kindness itself,” Cassandra insisted. “He took me to the inn, and he saw to it that I had what I needed. And he is everything that the Duke can never be. I wish to marry him.”

  Even to James, who knew the events of which Miss Bennet spoke, there were reasons, he realised, why her parents might be apprehensive. He could not change those details. He was who he was, and he loved their daughter. It was up to them to decide whether he was a suitable match for her.

  Mr Bennet looked at his wife. Her face did not alter its expression but he must have read something forthcoming in her demeanour.

  “Cassandra,” he said, clearing his throat, “you are free to marry the man that you love. Never would your mother and I have forced you to marry for any other reason but that.”

  SIXTEEN

  James was relieved that he had passed the parental inspection. But he was unprepared for how rapidly the betrothal process would evolve.

  “You will introduce Cassandra to your family,” Mrs Bennet said.

  “I… yes, of course,” James said. “For the new year, I will certainly invite them to London so that they may meet her.”

  “Would it not be more efficient,” Mrs Bennet pr
oposed, “if you visit them and take Cassandra with you? They would be better meeting her in person before the announcement is published, would they not? And I am sure that having Sarah travel with you would be enough to serve propriety, in the circumstances.”

  James avoided his beloved’s eyes. He knew that this was her view as well, and he also knew that she had not discussed the matter with her mother. For mother and daughter to be in alliance regarding a return to his family was to accept the fact that with marriage, he was part of a unit and actions were not taken in isolation.

  “I… it is a journey of several days to Dennington,” he said. “It would not be proper for Miss Bennet to travel without a chaperone.”

  “Sarah will go with you, won’t you, Sarah?”

  “I will!” declared the maid.

  Mrs Bennet smiled with satisfaction. “There, it is solved. You see, Mr Dalton… Cassandra is dear to us. We would not have her marrying into a family where she is not welcome.”

  “She will be very welcome, I assure you,” James said, wondering how he could wriggle out of what seemed to be an inevitable holiday return to Dennington. “But it need not take place now. The winter is a cold one, I should dislike exposing Miss Bennet and Sarah to the rigours of a journey in winter.”

  “I am sure that they will acquit themselves with their usual character,” Mr Bennet said. “Mrs Bennet is correct. After the experience that our daughter has endured, we must be sure that her married family welcomes her as one of them. I do not think that the Duke would ever have done so, even as her husband.”

  James realised that it was futile to dispute their logic. The Bennets were gentle and good, but they were firm. If their daughter found herself not made welcome by Michael and Honora, she would be free to break the engagement.

  They gave her considerable freedom in this choice, but James realised that it was that freedom which had made Cassandra an independent young woman capable of deciding for herself what sort of man she wanted to marry. He could not vanquish such spirit. He would not want to.

  So it was that he found himself en route to Dennington in a hired carriage loaded with their luggage as well as the packages for Neddie. The carriage was a sturdy one, but even so, the inside was chilly and James was glad that Mrs Bennet had insisted that they bring blankets with them for the journey.

  They stopped for the night at an inn; it seemed as though even all of the hot soup and brisk cups of tea could not take the cold from their bodies. The inn was clean and well run, the food hearty, but it could not compare, Cassandra thought, to the hospitality offered by Mrs Anthrop and her brother.

  After they had eaten, Cassandra and James went to their separate rooms for the night. Sarah was in the chamber, seeing to it that the fire was built up. She had put Cassandra’s nightdress in front of it so that she would be able to stay warm as long as possible.

  “I’m very glad you have come, Sarah,” Cassandra said. “I own that I am a trifle anxious about meeting the Marquess and Marchioness,” she confided.

  “Mr Dalton seems a mite anxious as well,” Sarah said bluntly. She had noticed that Mr Dalton, despite an engaging manner and visible devotion to her mistress, was reticent on the subject of his family, and she wondered if something were not right among the Daltons.

  “Yes,” Cassandra said. She could not go into the details of James’s parentage and upbringing. Sarah would likely find that out herself from the servants at Dennington, who would of course know of the old scandals and might be inclined to share the gossip with a newcomer. It was better for the truth to be told, in Cassandra’s view, but it was not for her to do the telling. “I hope the holiday goes well. His family is eager for him to come.”

  “Do they know he’s bringing you?”

  James had sent word of his change of plans and had informed his brother that he would be bringing his fiancée and her maid with him. They had left London before a reply from the Marquess could reach them, which did not assuage Cassandra’s concerns. It was entirely possible that James’s family would not welcome her. After all, she was, in terms of the aristocracy, a nobody; a young woman with no distinction and no family title, no one who would bring credit or lustre to the Daltons. She did not share her fears with James, knowing that he would have discounted them. James had no reservations about her worth.

  That helped to give her confidence as they neared their journey’s end. James roused from his contemplative silence as the familiar landscape appeared, now coated in snow but still memorable. He pointed out spots along the way that had meaning to him, and gradually, some of his apprehension seemed to ease.

  The coachman had found a room for himself for the night in the village inn and wanted to deliver his passengers safely to their destination so he forged ahead very swiftly. It was nearly dark by the time they arrived at Dennington Manor. Suddenly, the gates of Dennington Manor were ahead.

  Cassandra took a deep breath and eyed the winter wonderland that surrounded the manor. The carriage stopped and the driver unloaded the baggage, moving quickly to stay warm in the cold. Then, the front doors opened, showing a brightly lighted room inside.

  “James!”

  A tall man who had come out of the manor without a coat or hat stood before James.

  “You’ve come home!” his brother announced, wrapping his arms around his younger brother.

  “Yes, and just in time, it seems, to watch you catch a chill. What are you doing out in this weather with nothing to warm you?”

  His brother laughed. “We’ve been waiting impatiently. Neddie will be so disappointed; we made him go up to bed even though he wanted to wait up. But he will make your acquaintance tomorrow. Miss Bennet, we shall meet more formally inside; it is a pleasure to welcome you to Dennington. My wife is eager to meet you. Let me help you inside, mind the snow. Neddie is excited at the prospect of playing in it, but Honora and I are more enticed by the warmth of the fire. James, the footmen will bring in the luggage.”

  The coachman was dismissed with thanks and a generous tip for his services, and James found himself inside his childhood home once again. He did not remember so much light in the past, but the rooms were brightly illuminated, and candles cast a friendly glow around the walls. The light revealed to Cassandra that the two brothers were remarkably alike in appearance; tall, dark-haired, and muscular, their countenances expressive and quick to reveal their thoughts. Only their eye colour differed; James had green eyes, while Michael’s were blue.

  Honora, Lady Dennington, rose from the chaise longue as they entered and embraced Cassandra.

  “We were so delighted to learn that not only was James returning for the holidays but that he was bringing his fiancée with him. Michael and I hope that you will come to regard Dennington as a second home and a welcoming place for you both.”

  No word of disdain for her lack of illustrious antecedents. No cool, appraising scrutiny of her dress. Cassandra felt her spirits revive in the warmth of Lady Honora’s welcome.

  “That is very kind of you,” she said with sincerity.

  “It is a hazard of matrimony,” Michael said. “Once a man finds marital bliss, he is not content until others share the same experience.”

  He smiled warmly at his wife, who returned the smile and the love it conveyed. The doors to the drawing-room opened.

  “My Lord,” said the butler, “the carollers are here.”

  “Splendid!” said Honora. “Welcome them in.” She turned to Cassandra. “This is one of the local customs that I most enjoy. The villagers are quite musical, and it is not Christmas for us until they appear and sing. We have a bowl of hot mulled cider ready, along with mince tarts and gingerbread.”

  “We have carollers also in my village,” Cassandra shared this detail eagerly. There, too, carollers at Christmas was one of the cherished traditions with which she had grown up.

  “I’d forgotten,” James said, sounding as if he truly had not remembered the custom.

  Had it been dispensed with
while the family endured its shame, or had the occasion been something to endure rather than an opportunity to share the love of the Christmas season? Cassandra doubted if even James would have the answer.

  His brother slapped him affectionately on the back. “You will remember,” he assured him.

  The carollers entered the drawing-room, humbly dressed but confident of their welcome.

  One of the men gave a signal, and in perfect measure, the carollers began.

  I saw three ships come sailing in

  On Christmas day, on Christmas day

  I saw three ships come sailing in

  On Christmas day in the morning.

  The singing was lusty and tuneful; it was evident that the carollers took much pride in their musical offerings, for their voices rang out in the room with as much joy as if they were singing before the manger in Bethlehem. Cassandra stole a glance at James; he was watching the carollers intently, and she could see some of the tension ease from his rigid form as he listened.

  And what was in those ships all three?

  On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day

  And what was in those ships all three?

  On Christmas Day in the morning.

  Honora and Michael were smiling as they listened. This tradition was familiar to them, Cassandra could see, and much beloved. There was much warmth in this room; the deep love which the Marquess had for his wife seemed to permeate the manor itself with benevolence.

  Her family, Cassandra realised, would be quite at home here and, she had no doubt, would be made welcome if they did visit. They would not be despised for their lowly status and their ordinary lives; they would be treated like family.

  Our Saviour, Christ, and His Lady

  On Christmas Day, on Christmas Day

  Our Saviour, Christ, and His Lady

  On Christmas Day in the morning.

  Were carollers welcome at the Duke’s grand residence, Cassandra wondered?