Dreams of Christmas

by Barbara Miller

Lord Vance cleared his throat, his face far from amiable this time. “I have already paid a small fortune for the rooms, so if you attempt to charge these ladies as well you will lose my custom forever.”

  “I was about to say there would be no charge for the ladies.”

  “Correct answer, Groton. And since these ladies need their luggage now instead of tomorrow I’ll take the bags upstairs myself.”

  The look of shock on the innkeeper’s face must have mirrored her own. Who ever heard of a lord fetching and carrying? Vance picked up the portmanteaus and showed the ladies up the narrow stairs and into the bedroom. He locked the connecting door himself and presented Sarah with the key. Then he seemed reluctant to go so Sarah felt compelled to thank him again.

  “Lord Vance, how can I ever repay you?”

  “There is no need. Thwarting that cheating innkeeper is worth any small effort.”

  “I had no idea it was going to snow like this.”

  “How could you? It’s taken us all by surprise. I was trying to get home to Vance Hall before Christmas tomorrow. I may miss the celebration this year.”

  “Your family is waiting for you?” she asked as Miss Fetters began fidgeting with the bed curtains. Clearly she thought Lord Vance should not be in their bedchamber even though he had just ceded it to them.

  “My mother, sister-in-law and nephews.”

  “I’m here to meet my sister.” Saying it with such certainty made Sarah feel better.

  “It may be hard to find her in this crush. Who is she?”

  “Miss Annabelle Pelham.”

  He nodded and hesitated as though he wanted to say more. “I wish you the best of luck.” Finally he went toward the door.

  “Thank you. I have not seen her in a year, so I am anxious to find her.”

  Miss Fetters whisked the bed curtains back noisily on their rings.

  “Find her?” A look of concern marked his face when he turned. “Did you not make arrangements to meet here?”

  “No, but I have her letter with the heading as this inn, dated 23 December last year. I found it in the vicarage fireplace.” She opened her reticule and produced the paper. “See this greeting, Dearest Sarah? That is her writing.”

  He took the scrap of paper from her with puzzlement write large on his face. Sarah could feel Miss Fetters seething at her divulgence of all this personal information, but she just felt she had to tell someone and Vance had been so kind.

  “But who burned her letter?”

  “My brother, no doubt. He is the vicar since Father died more than a year ago.”

  “I will put my man Fisk on it. He can talk to the servants. What does your sister look like?”

  “Much like me. We are twins.”

  He stared at her a moment, then smiled. “I understand. While Fisk does his work would you join me for dinner?”

  “I don’t think so,” Miss Fetters said, coming around the bed with her hands on her hips.

  “I mean in the common room, both of you. You must have dinner and there can be nothing improper in eating together there. In fact I do not think there is any other place to get dinner tonight.”

  “We’d be delighted,” Sarah said.

  “An hour then?” He smiled encouragement.

  “An hour.” She sighed with relief when he left, took off her coat, and sank into the rocking chair where she stripped off her wet half boots.

  Miss Fetters left off inspecting the bed linens to come and help her. “Nothing improper indeed. An unmarried lady dining with a gentleman? Your brother would be shocked. If I thought we could get them to bring us supper in our room I would insist upon it.”

  “We would not even have this room if not for Lord Vance. The least we can do is be polite.”

  “And well he knows it. I told you we should never have set off for this godforsaken place.”

  “I could not stay another night under the same roof with my brother. Don’t you see? She did write to me and he never let me see the message.”

  “And that is the only reason I came with you. Mr. Jerome Pelham deserves to have a good scare thrown into him.”

  “Time enough for that later. I must figure out how to find Annabelle if Lord Vance should fail. We used to come to Thiston shopping when Father was alive. Some of the storekeepers might remember us.”

  “Shops will be closed for the day by now,” Miss Fetters said.

  “We have enough money to stay for several days. Lucky I saved my pin money and did not spend it for holiday fare. Living with Jerome we’d hardly get to celebrate even if we felt like it.”

  “And I have a bit put by, but what will we do when that is gone?”

  Sarah sighed. “We’ll find her. Don’t worry. I wouldn’t have dreamed about Annabelle if we weren’t supposed to find her.”

  Her companion simply shook her head.

  Vance had gone back downstairs to make sure he could have a table and decent dinner in one hour. Groton had been properly obsequious and Vance knew he would pay dearly for every amenity. He had not Fisk’s talent for bargaining. But it would be worth it. When he entered the sitting room by the hall door, Fisk had a stack of shirts in his arms and was struggling to open the connecting door.

  “Stop, Fisk, I have let the other room,” he said as he untied his neckcloth.

  “You wot?” the man asked, a shirt sliding off the pile and unfolding itself at his feet.

  “Just the one I wanted,” Vance said and picked it up.

  Fisk blew out three or four breaths as he always did when Vance pushed him too far, then set the shirts on the divan. “I thought you weren’t going to change for dinner.”

  “I wasn’t but by a piece of luck I am now dining with a very attractive young lady.”

  “Dinner with a lady here? That’s hardly proper.”

  “And her companion. They are traveling together and had no place to shelter from the storm.” He started wriggling out of his jacket and Fisk came to help him.

  “I see. So she is eternally grateful. Have you taken leave of your senses? This is not London.”

  “Fisk, lower your voice. They might hear you.”

  “Have you taken leave of your senses?” his valet repeated in a fierce whisper.

  “Fisk, the door is already locked.”

  “And who has the key?”

  “She does.” He finished unbuttoning his shirt and dropped it on the floor.

  “I feel so much better now,” Fisk said. “And where am I to sleep? On the floor?”

  “On the divan, Fisk. I intend to play cards all night. I saw some young blades in the tap room who will surely take my blunt.”

  “Wastrel!”

  “Indeed, I did not think you had such a good opinion of me.” He pulled the fresh shirt on and looked at himself in the mirror.

  “Why do you do it? Charm a beautiful woman and then, nothing? No marriage. No settling down and begetting an heir as you should. No future.”

  “I had not met the right woman up until now. This is her, Fisk, the woman of my dreams. I am in love with her already. She is so good, so pure of thought, I hardly feel worthy of her.” He carefully buttoned the clean shirt.

  “You’ve been at it these ten years or more. In and out of love more times than I can count.”

  “None of the society misses care for anything but finery and marriage.”

  “But isn’t that the point? Marriage?”

  “I don’t want to marry someone who just wants to get married.”

  Vance saw Fisk gaping at him.

  “It’s a sure bet you can’t marry one who doesn’t.”

  “But I tell you she’s the one. I’ve dreamed about her. The spirit from my past Christmas dreams came to tell me so. She arranged for us to meet. This is the girl I am destined to marry.”

  “Now I know you’ve gone round the bend. You don’t even know this woman.”

  “Miss Pelham is a woman with a mission, an admirable goal, finding her sister.”

  “In t
he middle of the worst snowstorm in years?”

  Vance hesitated at this criticism of his beloved now that he knew she was real but had to nod in agreement. “I thought that was ill-advised myself but she needs my help all the more because of it.” Vance chose a clean neckcloth from another stack.

  “How are you going to help her find her sister?”

  “I’m not. You are.”

  “Wot?” Fisk dropped the coat he had been folding.

  “Find Miss Annabelle Pelham. She’s about so tall, with long silky brown hair and the brownest eyes you can imagine. A smile like an angel and a voice like brushed velvet. She disappeared from this inn exactly one year ago today.”

  “Blimey. Sounds like you’ve already found her.”

  “I’m describing her sister, Sarah. They are twins. Sarah is attired in a dark green coat with fur trim but of course that doesn’t apply to her sister.”

  “Twins are always trouble. And if the one in green looks like that, what do you want with her sister?”

  “I don’t want Annabelle. But it would be a feather in my cap if I found her for Miss Sarah Pelham. It would lend me credibility.”

  “So you can set up a flirtation?”

  Vance felt himself frowning as he struggled to tie the fresh neckcloth. “I never flirt with young ladies of good family.”

  “Hmm. As to that, wot about the Dancy chit and Miss Everson, not to mention Lady Irving?”

  “All right, all right. I may in the past have dallied with women but I was never serious. I never promised marriage. That’s all over with now. I have found her, Fisk.”

  “Who?”

  “I told you. Miss Sarah Pelham, the woman of my dreams.”

  “Indeed. If you’re so good at finding women why don’t you find her sister yourself?”

  “Because I will be busy courting Miss Pelham, no easy task with her companion glaring at me all the time. Sarah is the wife I’ve been searching for all these years. She’s perfect.”

  “But is she available?”

  “She will be willing to listen to my suit I think once we find her sister. Don’t you understand? She’s so concerned about Annabelle she has no notion of falling in love yet.”

  “Perhaps she’s using you.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “She sees your infatuated face and thinks she can get this simpleton to do anything for her.”

  “It’s not like that, Fisk. I really am in love this time and if I am true to her how can she fail to reciprocate that love?”

  “Face it, my lord. You fall in love at the slightest whim. But when you get in the proximity of marriage you bolt like a horse with his tail afire.”

  “But this is different. I simply need to give her an opportunity to get to know me while you interview the servants. Her sister stayed at this very inn one year ago.”

  “Gawd. A year ago? Give me something easy to do like finding the Holy Grail.”

  “Stop complaining.” Vance hesitated. He was doing it again, foisting his responsibilities off on his servants then shouting at them for complaining of ill treatment for not doing tasks far beyond what custom prescribed. “I take that back. You are right. What I’ve asked is a horrendous imposition. I should never have pulled you into this.”

  “As to that, wot will you give if I find her?”

  “Fifty quid. You can add it to your retirement fund. Did you get my black coat pressed?”

  “Hanging there. That’s a small fortune but I have no doubt I will earn every penny of it.”

  “I just realized there is probably not enough help in the kitchen to carry a can of hot water to the ladies.”

  “Not likely. I had to heat your shaving water myself. It’s just over there.”

  Vance glanced at the steaming can on the shaving stand. “Splendid. I don’t need it. Take it to them.”

  “I see, in my spare time.”

  “It will give you a chance to get a good look at Sarah for comparison purposes.”

  Fisk picked up the can and threw a towel over his arm. “No father or brother to come to her aid?”

  “A brother perhaps but not in this town and certainly not prepared to help search for Annabelle.”

  Fisk pursed his lips. “I was thinking more in terms of defending Miss Pelham’s honor.”

  “If you get a good look at the female dragon prepared to defend Miss Pelham you will realize her honor is in no danger.”

  “Then in my travels I’ll stop at the church and say a prayer for your soul.”

  “You can do that on your own time.”

  * * * * *

  “How kind of Lord Vance to anticipate our need for freshening up before dinner,” Sarah said as she dried her hands.

  “He’s just trying to get in your favor,” her companion said into her ear as she handed her a shawl. “He wants something.”

  “Not everyone wants something.” She arranged the shawl around her shoulders. “Don’t you think there might be good people who just want to help?”

  “There are far more people looking out for themselves than looking out for you.”

  “Just think. If I hadn’t been awakened by my dream about Annabelle and gone downstairs for a book last night I would never have found the letter burning in the grate and might never have met Lord Vance. Don’t you think it’s magical?”

  “You and your dreams. We nearly froze to death in that stage and a can of hot water cannot make up for that. What if Lord Vance had not offered this room? We’d be sleeping in the tap room or worse.”

  “But don’t you think it’s a sign I’m meant to find her. Things are going so well.”

  “Going well? I think this whole trip was ill-conceived. If the stage had broken down we might have died on the road.”

  Sarah felt her hope draining away as she watched Miss Fetters touch up her own gray locks with a comb. “Then why did you agree to come?”

  “To keep you from haring off on your own.”

  “At least we have a chance of finding her.”

  “The looking and finding should have been done a year ago and not by you or me,” she said as she shooed Sarah out and locked the door.

  When Miss Fetters and Sarah came downstairs she knew which table was theirs from the white cloth and covered dishes. Her companion sent her a glowering look.

  “Please be polite. He promised to find Annabelle.”

  “I doubt he’s doing it from a need to help the simple and hapless.”

  “Do you think I care what his motive is? His servant can perhaps get information I cannot. Oh, is it so bad of me to use our connection in this way?”

  “Connection? The man rented a room for you at a common inn, it’s not a connection you should boast of.”

  “It cannot matter that it’s wrong of me to use him. It matters only that I find her.”

  Chapter Three

  Vance saw them come down the stairs and felt a smile spread across his face. Sarah was dressed in holly green velvet with a white lace collar and a paisley shawl. She looked so worried he crossed the room to greet them. “Miss Pelham and your lovely companion, Miss Fetters. Let me escort you to our table. Miss Pelham please sit here on the left and Miss Fetters on the right.”

  “Thank you again for your kindness,” Sarah said.

  “Frankly Miss Pelham I feel fortunate to have someone to talk to in this village.”

  “Has your servant found out anything yet?”

  Her face was so hopeful he felt bad that he had no news for her. Perhaps he should have been investigating rather than fussing about the dinner. And something else. He felt for once that he had met someone at a terrible disadvantage, someone who actually needed his help, and all he had done was dump the responsibility on Fisk. How had that happened anyway? He’d relented in his request and Fisk had volunteered for a price but he did not think the money was that important to the old man. He just wanted to do it voluntarily, not be ordered around. Vance vowed to remember that and learn fr
om it.

  “He has not returned from his mission. I’m sure he will by the time we finish eating. How did you and your sister come to be separated?”

  “I’m not sure. She was just gone one morning. My brother Jerome says she ran away, but she would have told me, at least left a note. I suspect she fell in love with someone at church and Jerome did not approve. He is the vicar at Muybridge now that Father is gone.”

  “No need to burden Lord Vance with all this,” her companion warned as she flicked open her napkin.

  “I am the soul of discretion. But why did you wait a year to come after her?” Vance poured wine for all of them and drew a glare from Miss Fetters.

  “I did not know where to start looking until I found the scrap of her letter.”

  “Ah, yes,” he said, though he thought it was not the best plan she could have made. If a year had passed already why not wait for better weather? But he should stop second-guessing fate. If not for Sarah’s impulse they might never have met.

  “And then there was the dream.”

  He felt his head snap toward her. “What dream?”

  “Just a dream I had. It almost seemed that an angel was rapping at the window. I ran to look out and my sister was driving away in a sleigh with a man. She looked happy and she waved goodbye to me. I had the dream just before midnight last night.”

  “Did you wave back?” he asked with interest. He had a lot of dreams and considered himself something of an expert at interpreting them. He was distracted by the waiter bringing the soup he had ordered. It looked weak but the aroma was enticing.

  “No, not until she was nearly out of sight. I did not want her to go. So she started to look sad. And then when it was too late I called to her.”

  “You and your dreams,” Miss Fetters berated.

  Vance nodded. “The dream came from you not getting to say farewell to her.”

  The older woman nodded. “Well, the ashes came from her brother.”

  “Jerome is the most cruel, despicable man alive,” Sarah said. “He burned a letter that would have meant so much to me.”

  “I see now. He did not want you to make contact with her.”

  “But why? She is my sister. I have a right.”

  “I agree.” Vance railed in his mind at a man so bereft of proper feelings as to deny Sarah the comfort of word from her sister. Then he examined his own conscience to make sure he had never done anything so cruel and for once did not suffer by comparison.