A Partridge in a Pear Tree

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A Partridge in a Pear Tree Page 7

by MCCABE, AMANDA


  “Oh, very well.” William gave a theatrical sigh and kissed her again. “If we must, we must. But I would much rather stay alone out here with you.” He offered her his arm, and led her into the waiting library.

  Lady Kirkwood was seated by the fire in another thronelike chair, but she wasn't alone. In the chair next to hers sat a slim figure, still bundled in a traveling cloak and bonnet, sipping a cup of tea and laughing at something Lady Kirkwood said.

  “Mama!” Allison cried. She ran across the room, forgetting her dignity entirely, to kneel down beside the chair and throw herself into her mother's open arms. “Oh, Mama. How we have missed you.”

  “And I have missed my dearest girls,” Josephine Gordon said, pressing her cool cheek against Allison's. “Lady Kirkwood very kindly sent her largest carriage, and even her own physician, to fetch me, so we could be together today.”

  Allison looked over at Lady Kirkwood, who was beaming at them. “Thank you so much, my lady,” she whispered, afraid she might burst into tears at the happiness of it all. William, the girls, and her mother—on Christmas! “You have been kindness itself.”

  “Oh, my dear,” Lady Kirkwood said, “don't you think you could start calling me Aunt Harriet now?” Then she turned a stern glance on William. “Now, Mr. Bradford. Isn't there something you would like to ask Mrs. Gordon about her daughter?”

  **

  Kirkwood Manor had never looked grander. Its windows blazed with light to greet the carriages that streamed along the snowy drive to the open front doors. The ballroom, closed up for so many years, gleamed now, festive in its trappings of greenery and red and gold bows. An orchestra, quickly hired from the village party, struck up a lively tune for the bejeweled dancers.

  It seemed that everyone in the county had come there to celebrate Christmas.

  Lady Kirkwood surveyed it all from her chair, set high on a dais by the fire. It had been a most delightful holiday, one her dear husband would have enjoyed. And soon it would get even better.

  She smiled to see Sir Reginald and his family huddled together near the doorway, watching the merrymakers with wary faces. Letitia's feathered headdress bobbed as she whispered fiercely in her husband's ear.

  Lady Kirkwood turned to watch as Allison and William skipped down the line of dancers, laughing and twirling, arm in arm. How they reminded her of herself and her husband, once upon a time! How young they looked, how happy and in love. How many Christmases stretched ahead of them.

  “Lady Kirkwood,” a quiet little voice said. She looked down to see Gertrude Bradford standing on the steps of the dais, a plate of Christmas cakes in her hands. “I thought you might be hungry, up here all by yourself.”

  “How very thoughtful of you, my dear,” Lady Kirkwood said with a smile, marveling at the change only a few days had wrought in the girl. When Gertrude arrived, she had been a pale, sad little thing, so silent. Now she glowed in her holly-green gown, her cheeks pink. “Why don't you sit here and help me eat them? And perhaps you could help me make a small announcement...”

  **

  “I want to thank all of you for coming to Kirkwood Manor tonight,” Lady Kirkwood announced. “As all of you know, this is the first time I have entertained since my dear husband passed away, so this is a very special night for me indeed. And, as most of you also know, my houseguests have performed a great task for me in the last few days. Some of you may even have assisted them.”

  A ripple of laughter sounded across the ballroom, from Bertie and Susan. Mr. Bradford, Mr. Johnstone and his new fiancee, and Farmer Martin, who had sold his chickens to Sir Reginald at a healthy profit.

  Allison stood there, her hand tucked in William's, her mother and sisters standing beside her. This was the moment they had worked for, scoured the countryside for. And somehow it didn't concern her one whit. No matter what Lady Kirkwood decided, who she made her heir, Allison didn't care.

  She had everything she had ever wanted.

  She only hoped that, if Lady Kirkwood chose Sir Reginald and his family, they would take care of her. Allison had grown very fond of the lady.

  “And now,” Lady Kirkwood continued, “I have a few very important announcements to make. First of all, I had my attorney call on me today, and he left me with this.” She held out her beringed hand, and Gertrude stepped forward to hand her a piece of parchment. “It's a copy of my new will, in which I leave my personal fortune to Mr. William Bradford and his future bride, Miss Allison Gordon, for all their hard work.”

  A murmur of excitement rose from the assembly, as it was well known that Lady Kirkwood's fortune was vast indeed.

  “Oh, I say...” Sir Reginald began angrily, only to subside at a sharp glance from Lady Kirkwood. His face went purple beneath a hail of fierce whispers from his wife.

  “Of course, Sir Reginald Kirkwood will inherit this house when I am gone, along with a small annuity to run it,” Lady Kirkwood went on, with a gracious nod to him. “And I am very happy to say that the absent owner of the neighboring estate, Swan Court, has agreed to sell it to me, which I present as a wedding gift to Mr. Bradford. I am looking forward to having them as my neighbors for many years to come.” She turned to William and Allison with a radiant smile “My best wishes to you both, and thank you for all the amusement you have given me in these last few days. My dear husband would have loved it.”

  Applause broke out in the ballroom, and the musicians launched into a lively rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas.

  Allison looked around at everyone, at her elated mother and her laughing sisters, and felt utterly stunned. How very much had changed in the last few minutes. Her entire world was different.

  Her head was spinning with it all.

  Then she felt William's arm come around her shoulders, and he pressed a warm kiss to her cheek. She looked up at him, and found his dear smile shining down on her. Her best Christmas gift ever. Suddenly the world steadied, and she knew she would never feel lost again.

  “Do you want to cry off out betrothal, now that you are an heiress?” he said.

  Allison laughed. “Never! Never, ever. Do you want to cry off, now you are a great heir?”

  “And miss out on a life at Swan Court with you, Gertrude, the twins, and Lady Kirkwood?” He caught her around the waist, and twirled her about, lifting her off her feet in the very midst of the crowded, merry ballroom. “Never, ever!”

  Copyright © 2013 Ammanda McCabe

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  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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