A Christmas delight

by Anthea Malcolm

  Mr. Talbot sat up sharply. "I beg your pardon?"

  "You heard me perfectly, I have no doubt. I have a question which I cannot very well ask of my own brother, and as you are my best acquaintance of the masculine gender, I will have to ask it of you."

  A frisson went up Mr. Talbot's spine. "Eugenia, for the Lord's sake, surely there is some married female-Lady Wellthorpe, perhaps-who can help you. Not, I beg you,

  my humble self!"

  "Oh, dear!" Eugenia clapped one hand to her laughing mouth. "How very improper you must think me! No, no, it is not that sort of question. What I need to know is simply this: what are the ways in which a girl can force a man to marry her?"

  "Eugenia!" Mr. Talbot exclaimed, horrified. "What girl and what man? Surely you do not mean me, do you?"

  "No, of course not. Well, perhaps yes, but only in the most hypothetical sense. And I am not speaking of the sort of conduct that leads to a hasty marriage over the anvil in Gretna Green. I am asking, what circumstances would make you, or any honorable gentleman, feel obliged to wed a particular female, even if you did not wish to do so?"

  "I will only answer if you promise that it is some other poor devil you have in mind."

  "Yes, of course, it is another poor devil entirely," she assured.

  "Very well, then." At this point, Mr. Talbot chose to fortify himself with a long sip of tea, wishing that it was brandy instead. "There are a variety of situations, I suppose. The easiest would be for the chap, let us call him the P.D., to be penniless and for the lady to have a huge fortune. Will that do?"

  "No, I am afraid it will not," Eugenia shook her head. "The P.D. has a healthy fortune himself, and besides, he would not marry for such a reason as that."

  "A noble sort, eh? Well, let me think. There could have been a promise made among the parents and the young lady raised to think that she was betrothed to him all along. That would make it devilish difficult to draw back."

  "No, that could not work here."

  "Confound it, Eugenia!" Mr. Talbot exclaimed irritably. "If you don't like any of my ideas, you may think of your own! You are the one who reads novels, not I!"

  "Do forgive me," Eugenia begged contritely. "Your ideas are very good indeed, but please think on. There has to be another possibility."

  He frowned for a moment. "I suppose that if the P.D. found himself with the lady in a compromising situation, he would be obliged to offer for her."

  Eugenia perked up visibly. "What kind of compromising situation?"

  "You know—being alone in her bedchamber, that sort of thing."

  "Or in his bedchamber?"

  "Yes, of course."

  "Oh, dash it all, Henry!" Eugenia declared. "I could have been compromised already, if only I'd had the sense!"

  Mr. Talbot lifted an eyebrow but went on, ignoring the interruption. "It would be important, though not strictly necessary, to have someone discover the P.D. and the lady together, preferably her father."

  "Or another male relative!" said Eugenia, brightening.

  "I see that you have a grasp of the essentials," Mr. Talbot remarked drily.

  "Thank you, Henry; I shall forever be in your debt for this!"

  "I do not want your gratitude, thank you very much. What I want, Eugenia, is your solemn promise that whatever scheme you may hatch, you will keep me completely out of it!"

  The next day, Christmas Eve, dawned brightly, and though the sky was slightly overcast, the temperature was warmer than expected. That was good news to many, including Eugenia, as she prepared for the social highlight of the holiday season to be held that night: the Earl and Countess of Claverton's masquerade. She had slept little the night before as her mind turned over various plans of strategy, but as the time for departure neared, her qualms

  were gradually replaced by a feeling of calm. No doubts could be permitted to interrupt her concentration now: tonight was the night for action!

  Charles, on the other hand, was anticipating the evening with something more like dread. The more he reflected upon the behavior and character of Miss Preston-Smythe, the clearer it became that he had made a serious error of judgment. What had appeared to him to be refinement of taste now seemed mere snobbishness, and her staunch moral values now smacked of self-righteousness. He had never really wondered before why a lady possessed of blond beauty, good family, and secure fortune should have remained unwed; perhaps if he himself had not been so priggishly detached from the gossip at his club, he might have been warned off in advance. Now, the prospect of committing himself to the lady for life was daunting in the extreme.

  And Major Stanfield, in his turn, was looking forward to the evening with mixed emotions. He had his own memories of that Christmas Eve past, and it seemed as though fate were determined to torture him in that regard. To have seen Eugenia again and to have virtually held her in his embrace had stirred up emotions he had thought to be long since controlled. In practical terms, of course, nothing had changed; as he was now, physically incapacitated and somber in disposition, he was the last man who could be compatible with the social butterfly Eugenia had always been and obviously still was. Her declarations of feeling were surely due to a combination of pity and misguided loyalty, and would soon fade. It was simply an unfortunate circumstance that the deep regard he cherished for her still burned as hotly as ever, for it would have to remain unrevealed.

  The masquerade was too frivolous an entertainment to have drawn him out under most circumstances, but the long-standing friendship between his late father and the Earl of Claverton mandated his appearance. It was a gala

  affair, and when he arrived at nine, it was already threatening to turn into a crush. All the fires were lit, and many ladies, beneath their masks and satin dominos, were wishing they had brought their fans.

  Major Stanfield stood to one side watching the gaily colored swirl of the dancers. As usual, it was easy to spot Eugenia in the crowd; not only did her coppery red hair gleam unmistakably bright, but she wore a domino of bright red that ought to have clashed but somehow did not.

  "Major Stanfield?" a gentle voice inquired, and he turned to find Miss Frances Wellthorpe at his side. She was appealingly attired in a domino and mask of pale blue satin that enhanced the blue of her eyes, with silver-and-pearl eardrops dangling from her delicately shaped ears.

  "Miss Wellthorpe." He bowed to her with his customary grace. "It seems a long time since I have seen you last; you were still in the schoolroom, I believe."

  "Yes, Major. We used to meet in passing at the Fox-worths. May I tell you, Major, how happy we all are that you are returned safely?"

  He smiled his thanks down at her.

  "And may I add that one lady in particular is not merely happy but is quite over the moon?"

  The major's smile faded. "I am afraid that you are mistaken there, Miss Wellthorpe. It is only natural that in the initial shock of seeing someone thought to be lost, one may be deceived by one's emotions. Such reactions are not to be taken seriously, as you will someday learn from experience."

  "Indeed?" Miss Wellthorpe's gaze sharpened as did her tone. "I already know a great deal more about such emotions than you may think, Major. And if you believe that Eugenia's feelings for you are shallow or transient, it is you who are sadly mistaken."

  The suddenly frank turn of the conversation took Ma-

  jor Stanfield aback. "Miss Wellthorpe, I know that you mean well, but whatever may have existed between Miss Foxworth and myself is hardly of your concern."

  Miss Wellthorpe drew in an indignant breath. "I beg to differ, Major. You know nothing of what has happened here in the last two years, whereas I have been a witness to Eugenia's own suffering."

  "Suffering? I think not." Major Stanfield uttered a short laugh. "The admired and courted Miss Foxworth has enjoyed every minute of my absence. It is not that I wish to attach any blame, mind you; it is simply not in her nature to be serious or steadfast."

  "I would not normally dream of saying this t
o a gentleman, Major Stanfield, but you are a damned fool." Miss Wellthorpe's cheeks were very pink, but she did not waver. "Eugenia Foxworth is the most courageous person I know. When Charles told us that you were killed, she was utterly devastated to the point where I knew that she was contemplating suicide. No, no," she shook her head in response to the major's agitated expression, "she did not attempt anything of the sort. But it took all of her strength to carry on normally and not give way to despair. She put on a bold front in order to spare the feelings of my mama and Charles, so that they would not know how deeply she was affected, but there were many times when she and I were alone, and the look in her eyes would make me want to weep. I still see that look, Major."

  Major Stanfield was visibly shaken. "I still do not see how what you say can be true, considering her many amorous conquests."

  "She has had many suitors, yes, because she is beautiful, charming, and possessed of a healthy fortune. What else would you expect? But she has never been a flirt, and she has always made it clear that she does not intend to marry. If others choose not to believe that she is sincere in that opinion, it is scarcely her fault."

  Major Stanfield nodded in the direction of the dancers.

  "Even so, Miss Wellthorpe, you must confess that Miss Foxworth and I are of two completely different temperaments. She spends all of her time in pursuit of the frivolous pleasures that I once enjoyed but can enjoy no more, even should I have any interest in doing so."

  "Not all of her time is thus spent," Miss Wellthorpe contradicted him. "Eugenia is dedicated to a number of social causes, including female literacy, and she donates a good deal of her time and money to a school for indigent young women. She attends lectures on political topics and holds discussion meetings in her home. I know that such things are viewed askance in our world and that she is often held to be an eccentric, but I have no doubts about the sincerity or depth of her beliefs."

  "Forgive me, Miss Wellthorpe, but why are you telling me this?"

  She paused for a moment. "Perhaps it is because I am her friend, and I cannot stand to see her hopes dashed where you are concerned. Or perhaps it is because love is a very precious thing, and when it is shared by two people it is nothing short of a miracle. If you care for someone, and you are lucky enough to have them care for you, you must not throw such a miracle away."

  Major Stanfield looked at her sharply. "Do you speak again from experience, Miss Wellthorpe?"

  "No, no, of course not," she stammered, and this time it was not indignation which reddened her cheeks. "I see my mama waving at me, Major, so I can speak no further. But please, I beg of you, do not dismiss what I have told you. And when you see Eugenia, ask her what it is that she wears around her neck." Upon those words, Miss Wellthorpe vanished into the crowd, leaving Major Stan-field alone with the tumult of his thoughts.

  The lady under discussion, meanwhile, was preparing to put a plan into motion that was about to tarnish the portrait of virtue just painted by her friend. She had located a small sitting room curtained off from the hallway

  upstairs and was busily arranging herself upon the sofa. Her domino was at hand, ready to be donned at a moment's notice if needed, but Eugenia was engaged in loosening the bodice of her gown to expose one creamy shoulder, mussing her hair, and otherwise creating an image of dishevelment.

  Mr. Henry Talbot, who remained blissfully ignorant of his role in the plan, was scanning the crowd. Eugenia had asked him to summon Major Stanfield to the first room on the right, upstairs; then, she said, he was to wait a few minutes and give the same message to her brother, adding that she was in need of assistance. Mr. Talbot had no wish to know what this was all about, but he accepted his orders gracefully. The only inconvenience was that neither Major Stanfield nor Mr. Fox worth was in sight.

  He did recognize Miss Wellthorpe moving near him in the crowd, however, and decided to ask for her assistance.

  "I say, Miss Wellthorpe," he hailed her. "Have you seen Stanfield tonight? Eugenia wants to see him upstairs, straight away." ,

  "Yes, he is in the blue salon. But why would Eugenia ask to see him privately? Is she in some sort of difficulty?"

  Mr. Talbot shrugged. "Haven't the foggiest and don't want to. I just do as I am told." Opon which, he moved away.

  Miss Wellthorpe, however, was disconcerted. Eugenia could not know what had just been said about her; what if she were to play the flirt and thus unknowingly undermine all of Frances's good intentions? Miss Wellthorpe rushed towards the stairwell.

  When she reached the first room, she threw back the curtain and was met with a shocking sight. Eugenia lay on the couch in an apparent state of disarray, one arm dangling listlessly while the other was flung dramatically across her brow.

  "Eugenia!" Miss Wellthorpe exclaimed, running for-

  ward in her anxious haste. "Are you all — " Unfortunately, she failed to see a small footstool and tripped over it, falling hard.

  "Fanny!" Eugenia sat bolt upright. "For pity's sake, what are you doing?" In a moment, however, irritation at her friend's unwelcome appearance gave way to concern. "Fanny, are you hurt? Speak to me!" Eugenia jumped from the couch and ran to kneel at Miss Wellthorpe's side. *

  "Oh, my head," Miss Wellthorpe murmured. "I must have struck it against something, it hurts so. And it feels so hot in here, I can scarcely breathe."

  "Here, let me assist you." Eugenia tried to raise her but could not; instead, she had to content herself with removing Miss Wellthorpe's mask and loosening the ribbons at the neck of her gown to give her more air.

  "What is going on here?" At that moment, Charles strode into the room. "Henry Talbot told me you were looking for me, Jen, but—Miss Wellthorpe, why are you on the floor?"

  "Fanny has struck her head, Charles. Henry got it all wrong, but oh, I am glad to see you. Can you help me move Fanny to the couch? I am not strong enough to lift her."

  Charles bent and lifted Miss Wellthorpe in his strong arms, and at that moment, her blue eyes flickered open, and she uttered a soft gasp. He stood without moving, an expression of dawning surprise upon his face.

  Eugenia, meanwhile, had rushed into the hall in search of help, only to encounter Miss Preston-Smythe. "Where is your brother, Eugenia?" the lady demanded in peremptory fashion. "I heard Mr. Talbot ask him to come up here, and I wish to know what is going on!"

  "Wait a moment," Eugenia cried, but Miss Preston-Smythe had already swept forward into the room and emitted a shriek at the sight she beheld. Miss Wellthorpe, herself in a becoming state of disarray, was being held

  aloft in the arms of Mr. Foxworth, and neither one showed any signs of dissatisfaction with the situation.

  Upon hearing the shriek, however, both their heads turned, and a similar look of guilty consternation came over their faces.

  "Well, what have we here?" exclaimed Miss Preston-Smythe angrily. "I never dreamt that I should ever see you, Miss Wellthorpe, showing such a reprehensible want of conduct! And as for you, Charles, I see that I have been sadly taken in by your gentlemanly veneer. For you to engage in dalliance on the very eve of announcing our wedding date is the outside of enough!"

  "Priscilla, this is not what you—" Charles began.

  "Not another word from you, sir! Our engagement is at an end!" And with a flounce of her skirts, Miss Preston-Smythe swept out of the door.

  Eugenia stared after her with lips parted in astonishment. A compromising situation had indeed occurred but not the one she had so artfully planned! Her trepidation was soothed, however, by the sihiling look now being exchanged by the two culprits as Eugenia walked back inside the room.

  "You had better put her down now, Charles," Eugenia chided fondly. "You will have plenty of opportunity for that sort of thing later on, I daresay."

  "Eugenia!" Miss Wellthorpe exclaimed, blushing. She showed no inclination to unwind her arms from around Mr. Foxworth's neck, however, as he set her gently upon the sofa. "Thank you, Charles, I feel much better now," she added demurely.<
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  It was at that moment that Major Stanfield arrived with Mr. Talbot following close behind. "Will someone tell me what is going on here?" the major commanded, taking rapid note of the fact that Mr. Foxworth and Miss Wellthorpe were apparently cuddling each other upon the sofa.

  "I can explain, Will," Mr. Foxworth said, rising to his

  feet. "It cannot be announced right away, but Miss Wellthorpe is going to become my wife."

  "So I see," the major commented. "You seem to have been practicing for the honeymoon."

  "Not at all!" Charles blushed. "Miss Wellthorpe appears this way only because she suffered a fall."

  "That is true," Miss Wellthorpe agreed. "You see, when I found Eugenia lying on the sofa in such a shocking state, I ran toward her and tripped, striking my head."

  Major Stanfield turned toward Eugenia, and his dark eyes swept over her, missing nothing of her exposed shoulder and disheveled hair. "And what was Miss Foxworth doing in this room to begin with, pray?"

  "Well, you see," Mr. Talbot spoke up helpfully. "Eugenia and I — "

  Before he could finish his sentence, however, Major Stanfield strode forward and delivered a left-handed punch to the jaw that sent Mr. Talbot reeling backwards, landing heavily upon the floor.

  "You filthy bounder," the major ground out. "You dared-"

  "No, I did not!" Mr. Talbot defended. "Eugenia, tell him! And will you please also tell him that Boxing Day is the day after Christmas, not the day before!"

  Eugenia's attention, however, was distracted. "William Stanfield, I do believe you are jealous!"

  The major turned the full force of his angry gaze upon her. "No, I am not!"

  "Yes, you are! You claim to have no feelings for me, but here you are, engaging in a jealous brawl. And what is more," Eugenia continued, warming to her subject, "you, who despise and reject all frivolous pursuits, are exposing two ladies to a display of fisticuffs!"

  "You always did have a punishing left, Will," Charles murmured slyly.