A Christmas Bride

by Viveka Portman

  She choked back another sob.

  ‘Well?’ Mr Sneddon asked again through the door.

  ‘Of course, I should like that very much. You’re ... you’re too kind.’ she sniffed.

  How much of their kindness would remain when they watched her belly swell without a husband to protect it? ‘Goodnight, Mr Sneddon,’ she croaked.

  ‘Or’right love, I’ll lock up and head off then, goodnight,’ he added and Ellen listened to him shuffle down the stairs and head towards his cottage at the back.

  She lay there for hours, or for what seemed like hours.

  What the devil should she do? Should she remain in Miss Brampton’s employ until her condition became too obvious, then throw herself on Miss Brampton’s mercy?

  She imagined the confrontation. Swollen with a mystery bastard, Miss Brampton would be appalled. She’d be thrown out unceremoniously, for the school founder would have no sympathy, none, she knew. Miss Brampton was a good Catholic woman, children were a blessing, but a woman breeding out of wedlock was an unforgiveable sin. Another hot tear leaked from her eye and pooled in her ear, as she lay abed thinking of the shame. What in heaven’s name was she thinking allowing herself to fornicate with Mr Carring?

  Yet given the chance, she’d probably do the same thing again. To be the object of Mr Carring’s passion and attention had made her feel more alive in minutes than she had in her entire life.

  You mustn’t think like that. She warned herself. Such thoughts were pointless, even irrelevant now.

  Perhaps she should just flee, take what meagre savings she possessed and start a life somewhere else, citing she was a young widow.

  Ellen dried her eyes on her blanket and considered. In the savings tin beneath her bed, she had enough funds to rent a room somewhere, she knew, but those funds would stretch thin quickly, especially with a baby and no means of honestly supporting herself. No school would hire a teacher with a babe on teat. Even she knew the notion was ridiculous.

  Ellen rolled over and screamed into the soft down of her pillow. Frustration warred with nausea in her belly and a cloying sense of desperation covered her heavier than a lead blanket.

  The situation was untenable. She had but one option: tomorrow, Christmas Eve, she would throw herself on Mr Carring’s mercy. He was a good man, and kind father.

  She would beg him to take care of the child.

  Chapter 13

  Robert Carring did not wait another moment.

  He could not.

  He had to discover what Miss Smith felt for him. If it was anything like the affection he held for her, then surely she would give marriage a chance.

  Much to Penelope’s surprise, he donned a coat and hat.

  ‘Papa, what are you doing? It is snowing outside. Surely you aren’t going for a walk?’ she asked, her hands resting on the keys of the pianoforte.

  ‘I shall take the hack. There is something I must do,’ he declared as he kissed his daughter on the cheek.

  ‘Can it not wait? It is Christmas Eve tomorrow.’

  A sense of urgency rose in his chest. ‘No, it cannot wait, wish me well.’

  Penelope’s pretty face contorted in surprise. ‘I would wish you well, if I knew where you were going or what you were doing, but I do not!’ she exclaimed. ‘You are very strange, Papa,’ she added.

  Robert laughed and called for his hack.

  Ten minutes later, he raced the hack through the streets, determined to reach Miss Brampton’s school before it was too late in the evening to be at all civil.

  His hack drew up outside Miss Brampton’s, and he knew it was already an uncivil time to call unannounced.

  The building was entirely dark, except beyond the closed curtains on the second floor, a lamplight shone. Ellen’s bedroom.

  He hesitated. Perhaps she would not be pleased to see him at this hour?

  Perhaps he should call in the morning after all?

  A shadow moved behind the curtain, his heart contracted, and his doubts dissolved.

  He bit his lip and leapt down from the hack.

  Devil take him, he may look a fool, but he could not sleep another night not knowing how she felt. His hands trembled slightly as he tied the horse’s reins to a post, and glanced up again at the window.

  Nothing moved now.

  Robert strode purposefully to the door of the school. As his hand hesitated on the bellpull, he thought of what he might say. If it were not Miss Smith and the elderly Sneddons answered, what would his excuse be?

  He was here to pick up his coat and hat?

  Ugh. No, that could be dangerous.

  His hand hesitated again, what the devil would he say?

  His horse was lame, and he was too tired to walk home, perhaps Mr Sneddon could look over his animal?

  That could work.

  Decided, Robert pulled the bell. Beyond the rattle of traffic and hum of late evening activity in the street, he could hear the bell echo throughout the empty schoolhouse.

  He pulled the bellpull a second time.

  The chime rang on, empty and hollow. It reminded him of all the things he’d been missing without her and of all the things he wanted to share, with someone, with her.

  A carriage rolled past and a small group of Christmas revellers wandered along the cobbles towards him. He tipped his hat at them and dared a glance up at the window once more.

  He could hear no footsteps in the schoolhouse, but the curtain on the second floor moved, and a face peered down.

  The face was small and shrouded in a riot of blonde curls that haloed her shadowed face.

  ‘Miss Smith?’

  At his call, the figure jerked in surprise and her hands moved quickly to open the window. He heard the sound of the window sash squeak as it rose. His heart beat even faster. ‘Forgive me, I had to call.’

  ***

  Ellen was frozen with surprise: Mr Carring stood in the street below, tall and determined. Her heart thumped with wild affection.

  But what was he doing? Why was he here?

  She had hoped to visit him on the morrow and plea her humiliating case, but now, in the cold winter night, the notion seemed ridiculous and destined for failure. How could she ever have expected a man as strong and proud as Mr Carring to ever listen to the pleas of a tarnished woman?

  I ought to send him on his way.

  ‘Mr Carring, what are you doing?’ she asked, ‘Why are you here?’

  She was only grateful the Sneddons had retired early for the night to their cottage.

  ‘I simply must speak with you, bedamned what anyone thinks.’

  Her throat tightened, what was he saying?

  ‘Come in, but you must be quiet,’ she said, looking up and down the street, praying no one was eavesdropping.

  Hurriedly, Ellen closed the window and gathered her warmest shawl and tiptoed down the stairs and unlatched the front door.

  Carring swept in, wrapping his arms around her and kissing her.

  For the first time, she could not reciprocate his passion; nausea swilled in her belly and hot humiliation burnt up her throat. She had been such a fool to ever think she could treat herself to pleasure without paying the price.

  She was ruined, soon enough he would find her repulsive.

  She pulled away from him. ‘Robert, I am carrying your child,’ she said.

  ***

  Robert felt her stiffen and pull away. He looked down at her, perplexed. Even by the light of her single oil lamp, she looked deathly pale.

  ‘I am carrying your child,’ she repeated.

  His heart slowed to a loud thud in his head.

  Of the many, varied things he’d expected Miss Smith to say, confessing pregnancy was not one of them. In truth, he wasn’t sure what he’d expected upon his arrival. Anger that he’d come to visit her against her wishes, or excitement that he had. What he hadn’t expected was to be informed of impending fatherhood.

  He stared at her, vaguely aware his mouth was slightly agape.<
br />
  His beautiful Ellen, brave, frank and honest.

  Words were lost to him. He attempted to express his amazement, but his tongue tripped in his mouth.

  ‘Don’t say anything. Let me speak before I lose my composure all together,’ she moved closer once again, her expression pleading.

  At this proximity he could smell her lavender scent, and his body stirred at the memories. How he wanted her. How he adored her. He had waited for this moment for weeks.

  ‘You must know, I hold you in my deepest affections.’ she began.

  Carring felt a smile turn the corner of his lips.

  She did care for him!

  ‘And I beg you not to think ill of me.’

  He frowned, he did not think ill of her. He could not!

  Despite her unconventional behaviour and condition, she had brought joy and excitement back to his world, with just one night. She had reminded him that he was alive, that he could feel.

  If that is the joy she can bring in one night, what magic could we share in a lifetime?

  Ellen continued, ‘As I have told you, that night of passion was a Christmas gift to myself. I am ... was ... to become Miss Brampton’s replacement, yet I could not tolerate the notion of living a life half lived, so before I committed myself entirely to spinsterhood—I gifted myself one evening with which to dance and make merry. I never intended on seducing you. Or ever letting it happen again. I was maiden, I had no understanding of pleasure, yet being with you has brought me more joy in one month than I had hoped to find in a lifetime ...’ She faded, and finished in a whisper, ‘I don’t expect anything from you, what I have done I did on my own, but this child is innocent and I beg you from the deepest part of my soul to please take care of it ...’ Tears began to spill down her pale cheeks, ‘I should regret it, I should beg your forgiveness for the child’s sake, if not my own, but in truth,’ she sobbed, ‘I’d do it all again just to be with you one more time.’

  Her hands covered her face and she sobbed softly.

  A fierce sense of protectiveness swooped over Robert’s body and settled in his chest.

  ‘You regret nothing? Even though you are with my child?’ he asked.

  She looked up at him, her eyes glittering with tears.

  ‘I regret nothing,’ she whispered, ‘though I most certainly should.’

  Robert smiled at her, ‘I love you, my brave, clever, utterly unconventional, Miss Ellen Smith, marry me, be my Christmas bride,’ he said and kissed her.

  ***

  There were many things in her life that Ellen Smith had doubts about; the solemnity and dullness of her career as a spinster schoolmarm, the situation that had led to her giving her maidenhead to Mr Carring in a dirty alley that chilly London night. She even had doubts that dear Mr Carring could procure a wedding license at Christmas, and at such short notice.

  But she had no doubts now.

  Dressed in a sweet, fawn-coloured bridal gown, hastily altered by Mrs Mathers, Robert’s housekeeper, Ellen stood before the altar at St James’s Church with Mr Robert Carring by her side.

  She felt like the luckiest woman alive. She had found a man who loved her and who she loved ardently in return. Of course, she’d have to disappoint Miss Brampton, but there were others much more deserving and needing of that position.

  She felt Robert’s gaze on her, warm, affectionate and hungry all at once. Excited gooseflesh rippled down her arms.

  Nothing had felt more right to her. Penelope beamed delightedly from the pews, whilst a shocked Mr and Mrs Sneddon sat alongside.

  It was hard to believe that her Christmas gift to herself had resulted in a gift for not only Mr Carring but his family as well. Their baby. She touched her belly lightly. Robert caught the gesture and a proud smile played on the corners of his lips.

  The priest’s voice was calm and clear in the nearly empty church.

  ‘I require and charge you both, as ye will answer at the dreadful day of judgement when the secrets of all hearts shall be disclosed, that if either of you know any impediment why ye may not be lawfully joined together in matrimony, ye do now confess it. For be ye well assured, that if any persons are joined together otherwise than as God’s Word doth allow, their marriage is not lawful.’

  The church was silent. Some silly part of her half expected someone to voice word of her pregnancy, and renounce her as a charlatan, but all was gratefully silent.

  Her shoulders softened and she caught Robert’s eyes again. His lips curled in a deeper, more secretive smile, and she could not help but smile in return.

  The priest turned to Robert, ‘Wilt thou, Robert Rushforth Carring, have this woman to thy wedded wife, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her honour and keep her in sickness and in health, and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto her, so long as ye both shall live?’

  Robert took her hand. It was warm and firm. She looked up into his dark-fringed hazel eyes to find they were brimming with emotion. ‘I will,’ he said.

  Tears pricked in her own eyes; this man had devoted himself to her alone. It was almost incomprehensible, after their short, passionate encounter.

  The priest turned his gaze towards her, and began again, ‘Wilt thou, Ellen Mary Smith, have this man to thy wedded husband, to live together after God’s ordinance in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou obey him, and serve him, love, honour, and keep him in sickness and in health; and, forsaking all others, keep thee only unto him, so long as ye both shall live?’

  She thought of the past month, the tormenting dreams, long nights and lonely days, and knew neither he nor she would ever suffer such agonies again.

  ‘I will,’ she said.

  Then he kissed her.

  When Robert pulled away, a delighted laugh burbled up her throat. A Christmas wedding was an entirely irregular start to a marriage but Robert smiled at her, revelling in her joy. Despite the disapproving glare of the priest, Ellen laughed a little louder. She cared not what the priest, nor anyone else, thought of their unconventional marriage. After all, she was an entirely unconventional lady.

  Thanks for reading A Christmas Bride. I hope you enjoyed it.

  Reviews can help readers find books, and I am grateful for all honest reviews. Thank you for taking the time to let others know what you’ve read, and what you thought.

  If you liked this book, here are my other books, The Secret Diary of Lady Catherine Bexley, The Wicked Confessions of Lady Cecelia Stanton, The Private Affairs of Lady Jane Fielding, The Observations of a Curious Governess, The Journal of a Vicar’s Wife.

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