Emily's Christmas Wish

by Sharon Stancavage

  Once again, Nigel was consumed with the urge to lean over and kiss Emily, despite the puppy in her lap and the fact that they were sitting on the hallway floor.

  "Emily, where did you go off to?" Harriet cried from down the hall, and both Emily and Nigel bounced back onto their feet.

  "Over here, at the door," Emily replied, still holding the puppy in her arms.

  Harriet appeared a moment later, a look of confusion on her face. "What are you doing here? And where did you get that puppy?" she asked, glancing over at Nigel, who was practically mooning over Emily.

  "She—at least I think it's a she—is a Christmas present from Nigel," she replied, as Harriet came over and began petting the wriggling puppy.

  "Oh, really?" Harriet replied, raising an eyebrow. "How did you know Emily wanted a puppy?" she asked him curiously.

  Nigel shrugged. "Well, Emily spends a good deal of time playing with Victoria and Wellington, and it's obvious that she enjoys animals. And she seemed lonely at home, so I thought she might like a companion to take back with her after the holiday," he replied simply.

  "This isn't a relation of Wellington's, is it? She's so small, she couldn't have come from the same litter," Emily concluded, looking into the large, brown eyes of her new pet.

  "Actually, it is. She was the smallest of the litter, and there was talk that if a home couldn't be found, she would be drowned. I knew you wouldn't want that to happen, and to be honest, if you couldn't keep her, I would have," Nigel replied candidly.

  Harriet looked at both of them and smiled warmly. "Why don't you put the new addition to the family in the kitchen for the night? Cook will keep her with Wellington, and you'll be able to make more arrangements tomorrow."

  Emily cuddled the puppy to her breast. "I suppose she shouldn't stay in my room?"

  "Wellington wasn't really house-trained when he came out of the barn, and I'd really hate to have another accident upstairs," Harriet replied.

  "I'm sorry, dearest, you're being banished to the kitchens," she said softly to the puppy, who was now looking up at her with the most quizzical expression.

  As Emily began walking toward the kitchen, Harriet looked over at Nigel and simply said, "If you're toying with her, I'll disown you as I've disowned Roger," and followed Emily briskly down the hall.

  "Of course you must attend the New Year's masquerade at Blackmore's if you're still with us then," Henry declared, helping himself to a large portion of venison.

  It was very obvious that Harriet had made the seating arrangements at the Christmas dinner table. Susan and Aubrey were paired together, as were Nigel and Emily. Lady Markston was seated next to Henry, who appeared to have the ability to converse congenially with anyone, no matter how obnoxious.

  Taking another portion of stuffed ham, Lady Markston coughed delicately and replied, "I do hope the weather clears up and we can be off to my cousin's." She took a sip of her claret and added, "I hope my delicate constitution won't stop me from leaving as soon as the roads clear up, since Susan and I do so hate to impose on you so, especially during the holidays."

  "It's been no trouble, no trouble at all," Henry said, finishing his third glass of port.

  Across the table, Harriet was hard-pressed not to throw something at her husband. She was none too pleased to be playing the gallant hostess to Lady Markston and her horribly cossetted daughter, and was counting the moments until they finally left. But, being the gently bred lady that she was, she simply added, "Yes, Blackmore has a splendid rout—everyone who is anyone in the county attends his masquerade. It's something of a tradition, you see," she concluded, picking at her parsnips.

  "A masquerade? How exciting," Susan said eagerly, glancing furtively at Nigel.

  "It is on New Year's Eve, which is a sennight away, and I do expect the weather will clear up by that time," Harriet added practically, and saw a brief moment of panic cross Susan's face.

  "Last year Harriet dressed as Cleopatra, and I was her escort, Marc Antony," Henry added, completely unaware that his wife was trying to discourage their uninvited guests from staying a moment longer than necessary.

  "How splendid!" Aubrey exclaimed, helping himself to another serving of the stewed oysters. "I most certainly will be here for that event, so you all must help me think of an idea for a costume."

  Harriet didn't miss Aubrey's intention. If the party kept discussing the masquerade, then everyone would forget about Lady Markston's departure. Of course, Aubrey didn't know that Harriet was counting the moments until her unexpected guests departed. She even had her maid check the weather every morning at dawn to see if it was possible to travel. But the weather was against her and Lady Markston and her daughter were now a part of their holiday. Unfortunately.

  It wasn't long before the boned turkey, stuffed ham, stewed oysters, turnips, beets, parsnips, and plum pudding were finished. The ladies, as usual, retired to the drawing room, leaving the men to their port.

  "I do hope you'll be attending the wedding, once we decide on the date," Lady Markston commented, a sly smile on her face.

  Harriet frowned at her companion, and glanced toward the other end of the room. Susan was in the corner with Emily, leaning forward and telling her something in a very confidential manner. Probably more flummery to convince Emily that Nigel could only fall in love with a proper lady, Harriet thought, glancing back at Lady Markston. "Pardon me?"

  "When Susan and Nigel announce their engagement, I hope you'll be able to attend the ceremony," Lady Markston said patiently, her hands calmly folded in her lap.

  Harriet frowned, and decided to help Lady Markston out of the delusion she was obviously suffering. "I'd be truly surprised if Nigel offers for your daughter. If anything, I'd say he's shown a marked preference for the company of my friend Emily," she commented airily, noting the look of consternation on Lady Markston's face.

  "Oh, Nigel has always been the gallant. It's obvious that your Miss Winterhaven is completely ineligible, and he feels sorry for her," she concluded firmly.

  "Really? And what do you make of the situation with Henry's Cousin Aubrey?" Harriet asked, becoming more annoyed by the moment at this stubborn house guest who wouldn't leave.

  "What situation?" she asked innocently, looking toward the door, waiting for the arrival of the gentlemen.

  "Why, surely you've noticed that Aubrey is practically living in Susan's pocket! He's quite taken with her, you know."

  Lady Markston paled a trifle, and was suddenly at a loss for words. Luckily, the gentlemen chose that moment to re-turn to the gathering, and Lady Markston breathed an audible sigh of relief as she saw Nigel walk over to Susan.

  "Susan, Emily," Nigel said cordially, smiling at both women. Emily looks lovely tonight, he thought, noticing how her long auburn hair shone in the ample candlelight.

  Susan smiled prettily at him, and glanced toward her mother with a look of triumph on her face.

  "Susan, I do hope you don't think I'm the greatest flat, but I was wondering if you would excuse Emily and me for a moment," he said, his eyes focused only on Emily.

  "But Nigel, we've barely spoken all day," Susan replied, a pout beginning to form on her perfect red lips.

  Nigel smiled calmly at her. "Lady Claredon, you know I don't have anything to say to you. Emily?" he asked, holding out his arm for her.

  Emily glanced at Susan, who was now glaring at her in rage. "Please excuse us," she replied, her green eyes twinkling.

  The couple moved to a quiet corner of the drawing room, away from the rest of the company.

  "Thank you for joining me, Emily. I just couldn't stand the idea of spending one more moment listening to Susan's flummery," he said in a rush, quite overtaken by her beauty.

  Emily smiled hesitantly. "I suppose I should also thank you for getting me away from your bride-to-be," she commented casually.

  Nigel rolled his eyes toward the heavens. "Does Susan still imagine that I'm going to offer for her? She is obviously as hen-witted as her
mother," he finished, glaring at Susan. Something obviously had to be done.

  "But your wedding will be the talk of the Season!" Emily prompted, relaxing a trifle with him.

  Nigel glanced around the room, and noticed that Susan and her mother were once again in an intimate coze, and throwing disapproving looks his way. He also noticed the kissing bough on the ceiling, and decided to put an end to the speculation concerning his affections. So he took her delicate hand in his and whispered, "Come with me."

  Emily followed him with a frown, as curious as the rest of the occupants of the study as to what Nigel was doing.

  She had completely forgotten about the kissing bough and was stunned when Nigel stopped, and then commanded, "Lookup."

  Emily looked up, and turned red in embarrassment.

  "Merry Christmas, Emily," he whispered, and enveloped her in a very thorough kiss that left her senses reeling.

  As he released her and her confused gaze delved into his golden eyes, there was a distant cough that propelled them both back into reality.

  "I haven't had the opportunity to kiss Emily under the mistletoe," Henry announced, and Nigel reluctantly let her go.

  Henry then proceeded to wrap his arms around Emily and kiss her very appropriately on both cheeks, loudly wishing her a Merry Christmas. And added, "Now Aubrey, it is your turn, isn't it?" he asked with a laugh.

  And so Aubrey appeared, and gave Emily a kiss much like Henry's, to Emily's complete mortification.

  From across the room, Nigel smiled. It was now obvious to everyone that he favored Emily. He hoped, if he was persistent enough, she would begin to return his affection. "Perhaps," he muttered wryly.

  "Nigel, do you have a moment for a word in private?" Lady Markston hissed, a frown on her very apparently painted face.

  Nigel glanced around the party. Harriet was still explaining all of the Boxing Day festivities, and everyone (save Emily) appeared to have had more than their share of wassail. "Of course, Lady Markston," he replied casually, and followed her out into the hall.

  Closing the door behind her, Lady Markston turned to Nigel, her eyes blazing. "May I ask why you are so grossly using my daughter?" she demanded haughtily.

  "I beg your pardon?" Nigel replied, completely confused.

  "Everyone in Society is waiting for the banns to be placed, and now you're dangling after some halfwit cit, of all things. Why are you ill-using Susan?" she asked, her face red with consternation.

  Nigel took a deep breath. "Lady Markston, I'm sorry if you didn't understand my relationship with Lady Claredon. I have never given her any reason to expect that I would offer for her."

  "Flummery! If you don't do your duty and offer for my daughter, it will be the scandal of the Season! I will not have my family put through that humiliation," she concluded dramatically.

  "Then there will be a scandal. I will not marry your daughter, and I take exception to the manner in which you referred to Miss Winterhaven. I wouldn't wed Lady Susan if she were the last available female in England," he announced.

  Lady Markston paled. "You… blackguard! If I were a man, I would call you out!" she declared passionately.

  Nigel chuckled slightly. "Lady Markston, you have no reason to have me called out. Everyone knows that Susan is a cossetted, selfish spendthrift, and that's why she didn't take during her numerous Seasons. You see, I'm not totally unaware of what is happening in London. She will never make a suitable marchioness."

  "How can you speak to me this way, Nigel? Our family has been connected for years. Why, it's your father's greatest wish that our families unite to form one of the largest landholdings in the country," she explained quickly.

  A small smile appeared on Nigel's harsh features. "Then I suggest that Susan start spending all of her free time with Roger. I do believe he is still eligible."

  Lady Markston's large painted mouth dropped open, making her look completely ridiculous.

  So as she stood gaping at him in the dimly lit hallway, Nigel made his escape. "If you'll excuse me, Lady Markston, I'd like to rejoin the party," he said, and silently opened the oak door, disappearing into the parlor. This holiday has to improve, he thought, looking around the room for Emily.

  A while later, a very distraught Susan Claredon found herself sequestered in the library with Aubrey, completely at sixes and sevens.

  "What do you need to speak with me about, dearest?" Aubrey asked with a smile. "I don't believe that you actually wanted me to show you a book," he concluded with a grin, running his hand through his hair.

  "Oh Aubrey, I don't know what to do! Nigel is showing a preference for that awful ape leader, Emily Winterhaven. What can I do?" she wailed dramatically, throwing herself onto a chair.

  "Do you really have such a tendre for Nigel that you're suffering from his lack of attentions?" he asked, seating himself in the chair next to hers.

  Susan frowned, an unattractive look that added years to her age. "I don't love Nigel, you slow-top! I'm simply marrying him so I can become a marchioness," she explained.

  Aubrey smiled. So he did have a chance with the vain beauty, since her affections were not engaged. Of course, he couldn't give her such a grand title, but he was definitely more tolerant than Nigel. And much more suited for the petulant young woman wailing across from him. "Do you have a plan?"

  "No. Do you think I should? He'll never marry me now— he's taken that freakish liking to that drab spinster. I thought he just wanted that dashed pendant back, but as soon as I gave it to him, he gave it back to her! What am I going to do?" she wailed.

  "I don't know," he said, but Aubrey had very definite ideas. He actually thought that Susan should become his bride, so he heartily encouraged the blossoming romance of Nigel and Emily.

  "I know!" Susan announced, leaping out of her chair. "I'll tell Emily that the only reason Nigel is paying any heed to her is to get back that stupid pendant. Then she's bound to throw him over," she concluded with a triumphant smile.

  "And Nigel will know that you told Emily, and you still won't be any closer to being his wife," he concluded quickly. Actually, her idea was rather admirable. Except that he didn't want Emily and Nigel to take a dislike to one another. He wanted to see them married.

  "Then you can tell her. And Nigel will come running back into my waiting arms, and I'll be the most beautiful marchioness that the ton has ever seen," she said, wrapping a strand of her long blond hair around her finger.

  Aubrey smiled. Things would be fine as long as Susan didn't divulge Nigel's secret to Emily. So he calmly said, "I'll tell Emily about the mermaid pendant when the time is right."

  Susan flashed a magnificent smile and saucily said, "I knew you would do it for me," as she sauntered out the door.

  Aubrey stared at the closed doors and contemplated his own plans. Yes, Susan definitely needs someone more… accommodating than Nigel. If she doesn't come around, I suppose I'll have to compromise her, he thought, taking a bit of snuff from his silver engraved snuffbox. And I will tell Emily Winterhaven about the pendant. When Prinny stops eating, he mused with a smile. Nigel was out of the picture and now he could make the magnificent Susan Claredon his bride.

  Eleven

  The Boxing Day celebration at the Ashton household was one to behold. The day began for all of the staff at approximately ten a.m., with no exception. Henry followed the tradition of his father, and of his grandfather: no servant was to work before that hour, and almost all duties were eliminated on that day of festivity.

  The kitchen staff was one that was busy, but by choice. For one glorious day of the year, they were cooking the finest food for themselves and all of Henry's tenants. Cook and her minions spent the day perfecting a twelve-course meal to be enjoyed by everyone present. The boar's head was crested with rosemary and bay leaf, the oysters were stewed to perfection, the turkey was boned and roasted, and all of the vegetables were cooked until the scent filled the spacious house.

  Harriet, Henry, and Victoria traditiona
lly spent most of the day in their suites, working on the gifts for their staff. Each year they bestowed any number of presents, large and small, on the servants that shared their lives. Victoria, with the help of Miss Turner, found trinkets for the children, and delighted in helping to make Boxing Day the resounding success it always was.

  Until the feast, the rest of the house party found themselves at loose ends. Emily spent the day in her room, trying to train her new unnamed puppy, without much success. Aubrey and Nigel bumped into each other in the library, and settled on a game of vingt-et-un to pass the time.

  On the other side of the house, in Lady Markston's suite, things were hardly as tranquil. Lady Markston, wearing a tight, bosom-revealing gown of capucine with a matching feathered turban, was giving her daughter a severe dressing-down.

  "And why were you closeted in the library with that fortune hunter Langely last evening?" she demanded, pacing the floor.

  Susan sat on a small chair next to the bed, staring at the floor, trying to think up a reasonable explanation of why she was attending to a man other than her future husband. Of course, Nigel would rather marry that drab spinster than me, she thought bitterly.

  "What do you have to say for yourself, Susan?"

  Susan looked up, startled out of her reverie. "I'm sorry, Mother," she intoned in a very rehearsed voice. She had lived through dozens of these episodes with her mother.

  "You are a failure as a daughter. Since your birth your only responsibility was to nab a peer. We have given you the finest dresses from Paris, the best dancing masters, your water-colors are magnificent, and no one has a more pleasing voice. Yet your Seasons have been a dismal failure and you are on the shelf just as firmly as that drab Emily Winterhaven. What are we to do with you?" she asked rhetorically, and Susan knew her mother didn't expect an answer to that question.

  Strangely enough, Susan actually had an answer. While her mother was ranting, she had an idea. "Do you want me to marry Nigel?" she asked innocently, staring at the floor.