The Dressmaker's Christmas

by Eliza Lawley

  THE

  DRESSMAKER’S

  CHRISTMAS

  ~ ~ ~

  ELIZA LAWLEY

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  Copyright © 2019, Eliza Lawley. All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and events are purely the work of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events, is purely coincidental.

  For my lovely Megan

  Without you, some of this story would be remarkably different.

  x

  More Victorian Romance books by Eliza Lawley

  The Runaway Maid

  The Flower Girl

  Girl from the Workhouse

  The Ragman’s Daughter

  Prologue

  Christmas Eve, London, 1875

  The bitter wind lashed at her, and hard sleet pelted down stinging her face, as she dragged her feet through the dirty snow. It was as if the heavens were raining down punishment for what she was about to do. She turned her face skyward and closed her eyes for a moment, offering a silent prayer for forgiveness.

  Yet, she had no choice.

  She had nowhere to go.

  No-one to turn to for help.

  There was no way she could support herself anymore. Let alone the baby.

  Dorothy Lewis peered down at her newborn daughter, and sorrow gripped her heart. She was so small. Still so new that Dorothy saw her own reflection in the infant’s eyes and pain gripped her body from giving birth, just yesterday. The baby’s tiny pink face peeked out of the bundle of heavy woollen blankets, protecting her from the winter chill. She was drifting back off to sleep, none the wiser to her poor mother’s plans.

  Dorothy swallowed hard and clutched the child closer. Her sweet Christmas angel deserved more than to grow up on the streets, homeless and begging for scraps. Dorothy knew that would be their fate if they stayed together. They each stood a better chance of survival if they were apart. At least, that’s what Dorothy told herself to ease the gnawing guilt.

  Clenching her teeth, the young mother continued on, making her way down the Bethnal Green Road, her destination in sight. The workhouse was better than the slums of the Nichol, she told herself repeatedly. Her daughter would have a hard life, she knew, but she would live.

  Dorothy used the last of her strength to push open the wrought iron gates, cross the courtyard and climb the stone steps to the workhouse door. Raising her hand, she hesitated for the span of a heartbeat before knocking hard. As she waited, she glanced back down at the baby.

  She had Dorothy’s nose and sparkling blue eyes.

  Her arms tightened around the child of their own accord, her body protesting what her mind was set on.

  At that moment, the big heavy door swung opened, and a stern-faced woman stared at Dorothy in suspicion.

  “Yes?” the woman’s tone was firm and cold.

  Hands trembling, Dorothy held out her bundle. “Please. I cannot care for her.” The tears that were threatening to spill over finally came, and she couldn’t bring herself to say more.

  The matron’s face softened as she glanced down at the baby, then back up at Dorothy. “She wouldn’t be the first we’ve taken in. Are you sure you want to hand her over?”

  Dorothy nodded.

  The matron studied her soberly for several moments.

  “Very well.”

  As the matron reached out to take her baby, Dorothy had to fight her instincts, which were screaming to not let go. The weight of her child lifted from her arms, and she felt cold and bare, as if she were losing a layer of her own flesh.

  “Does she have a name?” the matron asked. She gently bounced the baby, and the small motion eased some of Dorothy’s worry. The woman knew how to care for her, at the very least.

  She shook her head. “No. There was no point.”

  The woman’s gaze was sympathetic. “Wise of you. Come with me, they’ll be paperwork to complete.”

  The matron turned back into the lamplit corridor, leaving the door open for Dorothy to follow. But Dorothy turned and walked away, disappearing into the night, leaving behind her only child, and wishing she could leave behind her broken heart as well.

  Chapter 1

  Lily let out a heavy sigh as she sat and rocked the still-sleeping babe in her arms. Glancing around the finely decorated parlour, the hairs on the back of her neck bristled as she felt a sting of irritation.

  It was just like Rose to make her wait.

  She glanced down at the baby and wondered for perhaps the thousandth time since she’d arrived at the house, if this was a good idea. When the child’s mother had left her in her arms at the workhouse, Lily had immediately thought of her younger sister. Rose and her husband Silas were desperate for a child, and Lily knew the babe would be a burden on the workhouse until she grew enough to be useful. Still, she risked her sister’s reputation, as well as her employment by bringing the child here. She had changed her mind and changed it back too many times to count. And yet, here she was.

  Leaving the workhouse before anyone else became aware of the child, she’d hurried to her sister’s home and asked the maid to fetch her. Nearly thirty minutes later, she continued to wait.

  When Rose appeared at last, Lily was irate. Her sister swept into the room with the haughty air that had clung to her since childhood, but offered a genuine smile of delight when her eyes fell on Lily. As was often the case with Rose and her charming smiles, Lily’s annoyance faded, and she grinned in turn.

  “Lily, my darling! What brings you here at such a late hour? And on Christmas Eve!” Rose glided across the floor and kissed her sister on both cheeks.

  Lily stood, her carefully covered bundle secure in her arms.

  “I’ve brought you a gift,” she replied.

  Rose stopped and raised her brows in interest. “Oh? How exciting! What type of gift?”

  “Where is your husband?” Lily thought it best to have them both present.

  Waving her hand dismissively, Rose said, “He’ll be along in a moment. Come now, Lily, tell me about the gift!” She peered at the bundle curiously.

  “Not until Silas is here.”

  “You need wait no longer, then,” a deep male voice declared. Silas Clements strolled into the parlour with a wide smile on his handsome face.

  Lily’s cheeks flamed at the sight of him. She always grew flustered around handsome men. Especially Silas. However, when he stopped by Rose’s side and placed and arm around her shoulders, she gave herself a mental shake and focused on the reason for her visit.

  “I know you two have been praying for a child for some time now,” she said, stepping towards them and extending her arms. “This may not be the way you hoped for it to happen, but this evening I believe your prayers have been answered.”

  Rose’s eyes grew wide, her expression cautious as she took a step towards her sister. Silas stared at the blankets with a furrowed brow, as if he could not quite understand what was happening.

  With slow, hesitant steps, Rose closed the distance. Pulling the thick blanket aside, she stared down at the child. Her chest rose and fell with excited breaths, and tears sparkled in her eyes.

  She looked up at Lily. “You’ve brought us a miracle,” she whispered.

  Lily felt her heart swell at the sight of her sister’s tearful joy. When Rose reached out her arms, Lily slipped the baby into her embrace. Her sister stared down at the child with tenderness, and Silas moved behind her to peer down at the bundle. His expression melted, and he reached down to cup the little girl’s small head in his large hand.

  “She’s beautiful,” he murmured.

  “Sh
e’s yours,” Lily said, “If you’ll have her.”

  “Oh my!” Rose’s eyes shot to hers in alarm. “Of course, we’ll take her!”

  “Will anyone miss her?” Silas asked, a dark rumble in his voice. His eyes pinned Lily with accusation, and she quickly shook her head to dispel any suspicions.

  “No, no-one. Her mother left her in my arms this very evening with no intention of returning. No-one at the workhouse saw me with her. There is no-one who will come looking for her.”

  Silas softened, and his shoulders visibly relaxed. “Good. We would not wish to bring a scandal down on this house.”

  Lily nodded. “Yes, of course. To avoid such a thing, you must swear not to tell a soul where this child came from and that she is an illegitimate. If such information were to get out… well, her reputation would be at risk, as well as your own.” Lily took a breath. “She’s so innocent… I would hate for her to face such undeserved judgement.”

  Silas tilted his chin. “We swear.”

  “We do,” Rose murmured; her eyes locked on her new baby.

  “We will tell everyone I had a cousin who succumbed to scarlet fever, and we took the newborn in as our own,” Silas declared. “Her husband was lost at sea while she was still with child, and there was no other family to care for the girl. Is that agreed?”

  Smiling up at her husband, Rose said, “Yes, that’s what we’ll say. No-one will have reason to question it.”

  Relief swept through Lily, and she, too, nodded in agreement, releasing a breath she hadn’t realised she’d been holding.

  “Very good.” She took in the family for a moment. They made a pretty picture. Beautiful Rose and her handsome husband, glowing with love for their sweet baby. Lily felt the bite of jealousy, knowing she would never have this. She wasn’t as attractive or as lucky as Rose. She was past her prime, with no more hope of securing a husband. And even less of having children of her own.

  “Does she have a name?” Rose asked, pulling Lily from her self-pity.

  With a little sigh, she forced her lips to curl into a smile.

  “No. Her mother did not name her for fear of growing too attached.”

  Rose appeared pleased by that. “Well, we have no such fears, do we darling?” She peered up at her husband, who nodded.

  “No, sweetheart, we have no such fears.”

  “Then, what will you name her?” Lily knew she needed to return to the workhouse before her lengthy absence was noted, but a small part of her couldn’t leave until she was sure the baby was planted firmly in the home.

  Rose and Silas looked at each other for several moments.

  “What about Holly, my love?” Rose’s smile was soft when she said the name. “For our little Christmas miracle?”

  Silas turned his gaze back to the baby. “Holly. Holly Clements. Yes. That suits her just fine.”

  With a name, the child was secure. Lily excused herself so that the new family could become well acquainted with each other. She left the house with a light heart, happy in the knowledge that she had helped her sister become whole.

  Chapter 2

  London, 1883

  “Papa, papa! I’m home!” Holly burst through the doors of her papa’s study. When he looked up from his work and smiled at her, she ran around his desk and bounced on the balls of her feet with excitement.

  “My goodness, sweetheart. You are excited! I take it school went well for you today?”

  Holly nodded. “Yes! I recited my letters without making one mistake, and Miss Addington complimented my embroidery this afternoon!”

  Silas smiled widely and his eyes twinkled. “Indeed? No cane, then?”

  Holly shuddered as she shook her head. “No, papa. No cane.” The memory of Miss Addington’s cane slapping across her knuckles had her clenching her hands at her sides. When she had started school a little over a year ago, she had struggled to pay attention and received punishment almost on a daily basis. Her knuckles were bruised and sore for weeks as she’d tried to adjust to the rigors of the classroom. She had forced herself to stop daydreaming during lessons, although it was very difficult for a child with such energy and imagination. When she was home, she could let her imagination run wild, but she kept it in check as much as she could in school.

  Her knuckles were no longer bruised, and Miss Addington had stopped looking at her with a perpetually furrowed brow. Plus, it seemed to please her papa to know she was doing well in her lessons.

  “That’s very good to hear, Holly. I am very proud of you.”

  She grinned, puffing out her chest in delight.

  “Papa, could we…?”

  “Holly! How many times have I told you not to disturb your father when he’s working?”

  Flinching at the harsh lash of her mother’s voice, Holly turned to find the woman standing in the doorway, hands on her hips, and her expression cross. Holly had grown used to the constant storm in her mama’s eyes. Mama seemed angry with her more and more often as of late, and it both confused and frustrated Holly.

  Stepping out from behind her papa’s desk, Holly clasped her hands behind her back and swayed from foot-to-foot nervously. “I’m sorry, mama. I just wanted to tell papa about my day at —”

  “I don’t care what you wanted to tell him,” her mama scolded. “Your father is a busy and important man with lots of important work to do, and he needs to concentrate. He can’t do that if you’re in here chattering away like an old maid.”

  “Rose, the girl is not disturbing me.”

  Her mama’s glare snapped up to her papa. “Silas, she must learn to be more obedient.”

  Silas pushed to his feet and came around to stand behind Holly, placing a protective hand on her head. She felt warmth flood through her, and she relaxed, feeling safe and secure with her strong and handsome papa towering above her.

  “Rose, my love, she is simply excited to tell me about her day. She means no harm, and I’m truly happy that she visits with me to break up the monotony of my own day.”

  Rose’s nostrils flared; her annoyance clear.

  “You spoil the child! She is too wild as it is! I can hardly leave this house with her without her creating a spectacle of herself in public. If we’re not stricter, she will not grow to be a proper young lady, and then where will we be?”

  Moving his hand to Holly’s shoulder, Silas pulled her closer, snuggling her into his side as if to protect from her mama’s harsh words.

  “Holly is a carefree child with a vivid imagination, that’s all. She doesn’t yet know how to focus it, but she is smart as a whip and she’ll learn. Have more faith in our daughter, my dear.”

  Grinding her teeth, Rose spat, “I warn you, Silas. The girl needs a firmer hand than you are willing to give. Be it on your head!”

  Silas sighed. “My dear, please. Holly is a fine child. We have much to be proud of.”

  Holly blinked, holding her breath as she waited for her mama’s response. Pink tinged the woman’s cheeks as she stared at her husband. Holly thought she might wish to say more, but she pursed her lips, turned on her heel, and stormed from the room.

  Once the door shut behind her, Silas released Holly’s shoulder. Dropping to his knee next to her, he cupped her chin to turn her face towards him.

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  Sniffing, Holly nodded. “Yes, I’m all right.”

  His smile was gentle. “You must forgive your mama. She doesn’t mean to be so cross with you. She just wants you to be the best young lady you can be.”

  “She is always cross with me,” Holly murmured, casting her eyes to the floor. “I don’t know how to make her not cross with me.”

  “Just continue being a good girl. All right?”

  Gulping, Holly raised her eyes to meet his. “I don’t think mama likes me very much.”

  “Oh, my love, your mama loves you.” Her papa’s tone was insistent, but there was a glimmer of sadness in his gaze.

  “But she says I don’t look
like her. I think it upsets her.” Holly ran her small hand through her flame red curls. Her mama would often comb her hair to try to tame it, and lament at its wildness.

  “Not a single redhead in the family,” Rose had grumbled on more than one occasion. “Why must it be so thick? How I wish your hair was as smooth and light as mine.”

  It stung Holly to hear such things, and she was growing to hate her wild red hair and amber eyes that were nothing at all like her mama’s. If she could cut all of her hair off and regrow it blonde and soft, she would do it in a heartbeat.

  Sometimes, her mama would study her face, like she was trying to solve some difficult puzzle and couldn’t make all the pieces fit. She always singled out Holly’s nose, saying it was too stubby. It appeared to be the feature she disliked most about her daughter.

  “Plenty of children don’t look a thing like their parents,” Silas assured her. Standing, he patted her head. “Fear not, little love, you are your mama’s only child. She is just overprotective of you and your future. Her temper will ease in time.”

  Holly wanted to believe her papa; she really did. Yet doubt nagged at her. She didn’t think her mama loved her like she was supposed to. Still, perhaps her papa was right, at least in part. Maybe if mama had another child, she wouldn’t be so hard on Holly? She would have someone else to pay attention to.

  That night, as Holly kneeled to say her bedtime prayers, she asked for only one thing. A new baby for her mama, so that perhaps she could see the love in her eyes once more.

  Not three weeks later, Holly’s prayers were answered. Her mama and papa came to her room as she played with her dolls and knelt on the floor in front of her. There were tears in her mama’s eyes, but both her parents were smiling with such joy, they seemed to glow.

  “You are going to be a big sister, Holly!” her mama declared.

  Holly’s own grin was wide. “Truly?”

  With a nod, her papa answered, “Yes. Truly.”

  They pulled her into their arms and the three embraced for the first time in Holly’s memory. She clung to them, happiness swelling inside of her. The baby wasn’t even here yet and it had already brought them closer.