A Victorian Christmas

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by Lorraine Beaumont




  RAVENHURST

  A VICTORIAN CHRISTMAS

  Ravenhurst Series Book 6

  LORRAINE BEAUMONT

  Copyright 2016 © by Lorraine Beaumont

  All Rights Reserved

  License Notes

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion hereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.

  This story is a work of fiction. Names, Characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to event’s, locales, or persons living or dead is entirely coincidental.

  Available in eBook only

  SMASHWORDS EDITION

  www.lorrainebeaumont.com

  Revisit Sebastian, Katherine, Devlin, Grayson, and Isabelle … for, Ravenhurst: A Victorian Christmas, where you will find out what they have been up to and see what surprises they have in store for you for the holidays.

  All alone on Christmas Eve, Devlin Renquist finds himself visited by three ghosts. Is a reformed reprobate entitled to a little happiness of his own? Or is he destined to live out his days alone in retribution for his past mistakes?

  Available in eBook and Paperback

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  Ravenhurst:

  A Victorian Christmas

  A Ravenhurst series novel: 2.5

  Lorraine Beaumont

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter One: A Partridge in a Pear Tree

  Chapter Two: Turtle Doves

  Chapter Three: French Hens

  Chapter Four: Calling Birds

  Chapter Five: Golden Rings

  Chapter Six : Geese Laying

  Chapter Seven: Swans Swimming

  Chapter Eight: Maids Milking

  Chapter Nine: Ladies Dancing

  Chapter Ten : Lords Leaping

  Chapter Eleven: Pipers Piping

  Chapter Twelve: Drummers Drumming

  Chapter One: The Present, New York City

  “On the first day of Christmas my true love gave to me…

  a Partridge in a Pear tree”

  “Byron!” Sadie dropped her bag in shock. “Who is that?” She pointed at the statuesque brunette with her legs wrapped around her boyfriend’s waist in his bed. The bed she helped him pick out.

  “Listen, Sadie,” he panted, “give me a minute, all right.” The brunette, seemingly oblivious to her presence, kept caressing his ass, and appeared to have no intention of stopping, either.

  Gagging, Sadie covered her mouth. She was going to be sick.

  “Damn it, Sadie! Don’t you get sick on my rug, it cost me five grand.”

  She turned her green/gray face to him—her heart seizing up. “You have your dick in another girl and all you can say to me is not to get sick on your rug? Are you outta your freaking mind?”

  “Yeah, babe,” he breathed, his hips moving faster.

  Sadie noticed belatedly he wasn’t even talking to her. No, he was talking to the whore he had in his bed. His hips slammed into her big bottom, making a slapping noise.

  “Jesus, Byron!” Sadie hoped the bitch had a STD to give him for Christmas. She grabbed her bag off the floor and headed for the door. On her way out, she spotted Byron’s “Special Occasion” Cabernet Sauvignon wine on the counter. Grabbing up the bottle, she quickly removed the cork. Walking purposefully back to his room she stood in the doorway. “Hey Byron…”

  Byron lifted his sweaty, red face, his hips slamming down in mid thrust.

  “Merry Christmas, Asshole!” She dumped the entire bottle of his “Special Occasion” wine on his five thousand-dollar carpet.

  “Damn it, Sadie,” he yelled, not even breaking his rhythm.

  “Unbelievable.” She turned and grabbed her bag off the table and walked out the door.

  The elevator swished down the shaft, dinging one floor at a time. Sadie was barely keeping it together. Images of Byron, her boyfriend of two years, banging a dirty whore in his bed, were emblazed in her mind. If the elevator guy wasn’t standing next to her she probably would have broken down in sobs or screamed. She wasn’t sure which.

  With a final ding, the doors slid open. Sadie rushed out of the door. “Oh God, sorry,” she said, to whoever she just rammed with her head.

  “Are you all right?” a distinguished sounding man asked, trying to keep her upright.

  “Oh, I am fine,” she sniffed, and stumbled forward, her ankle twisting. Her purse landed on the glossy lobby floor with a loud thud, the contents spilling out. “Oh hell!” she wailed, and dropped down to her knees. “Oh perfect,” she laughed/cried.

  “Here, let me help you.” The man reached out and picked up a plastic covered oblong object, handing it to her.

  “NO!” It was too late. He was holding a tampon. “Great.” She shook her head and took it from him. “Thanks.” She shoved it back inside her torn shoulder bag.

  “Can I help you with anything?” he asked, sounding concerned.

  “Oh sure,” she sniffed. “You wouldn’t happen to know any decent guys from like another century to fix me up with because all the ones from this century are ASSHOLES!”

  “Really?” asked the man, with the refined English sounding voice.

  “Yes, really,” she snapped and then she shook her head, completely embarrassed by her outburst. “I am sorry. I am not usually like this …” Tears clouded her vision. “I’ve just had a really bad couple of days.”

  “It is all right,” he assured her, helping her to her feet once more.

  “Thanks,” she said, standing. “I just wish…”

  “Yes?”

  “Oh God, sorry,” she gushed. “You don’t need to hear about my crappy life.”

  “What is it that you wish?”

  “Oh, I don’t know.” She took a deep shuddering breath.

  “The holidays are just around the corner,” he reminded her. “Surely you have something in mind

  “Do you know any knights in shining armor?” she joked.

  “I am afraid the only knight I know of is already taken.”

  “Funny.” She laughed then and looked up at him.

  He gave her a bemused look.

  She sighed. “It would be awesome if I could just meet a decent guy, you know. He doesn’t have to be perfect.” She made a face. “I’m not that picky. He can have some flaws but is workable, you know.”

  “Oh, I know,” he assured her.

  Her brow creased. “I better go before the Gestapo throws me out of here.” She glanced at the attendant that was making his way toward her. She pulled her purse back on her shoulder. “Sorry, about, you know, spilling my guts to you an all.”

  “I don’t mind.”

  “Well, thanks…”

  “Milford,” he supplied. “My name is Milford.”

  “Well Milford…” She gave him a wan smile. “I am Sadie, by the way, Sadie McAllister.”

  “It has been a pleasure making your acquaintance, Ms. McAllister, and I will certainly keep you in mind.”

  “Yeah…” She gave him an odd look and turned to walk away… the broken heal of her shoe flapped up and down as she limped toward the door.

  Milford stood there for a moment, coming to a decision. “Oh, Ms. McAllister,” he called out quickly before he changed his mind.

  She stopped at the revolving glass doors. The attendant now caught on the other side of the glass. She ignored
him and looked back over her shoulder.

  “You forgot something.” The man walked purposefully back to her side.

  Her brow creased. “I did?”

  “Yes.” He held out a folded white handkerchief.

  “Oh that’s not mine.” She shook her head.

  His eyes twinkled. “I know,” he said and leaned in conspiratorially. “I feel the item inside is what belongs to you.”

  Her cheeks bloomed with color. Great he had another tampon. Flustered she took it from his hand and shoved it into her shoulder bag. “Well happy holidays,” she said.

  “Yes, Ms. McAllister. Happy holidays to you as well. Good luck.”

  “Huh?” Good luck? She turned around to ask what he meant but he was already gone.

  Poof. Just like that. “Okay then.” She pushed through the revolving door and stepped onto the street. A brittle wind hit her square on and she gathered her too thin jacket around her body, making her way back home.

  The Past - Victorian England, Ravenhurst

  “Devlin, aren’t you getting a tree this year?” Katherine asked, rummaging through another crate at the end of the room. She stood and lifted up a small horse ornament and placed it on the tree. The smell of fresh cut pine permeated the air.

  “What would be the point?” He sighed audibly, lifting up a tinsel ornament.

  “My goodness Devlin, it can’t be as bad as all that.” She placed her hands on her swollen belly. “Besides, Christmas just isn’t the same without a tree. You have to get one.”

  “I suppose,” he sighed. “I could send poor Bertram out to retrieve one for me…or perhaps the stable lad. The snow is taller than he is, you know.”

  “Devlin,” Katherine said, smiling. “You are perfectly capable of getting one yourself.” She gave him a stern look. “When I was younger, it was always a tradition at home. We always went out, cut our own tree down, and then had hot cocoa with mini marshmallows while we decorated it.”

  “Whatever are mini marshmallows?”

  “Oh, they are little white bits of soft sugary sweetness that melt in your mouth.” She closed her eyes and made an “Mm-hmm” sound.

  Devlin smiled, shaking his head. “Katherine, I have no idea what you are talking about.”

  “Oh it’s not important.” She waved her hand. “They are really good though. And cookies…you have to have cookies when you decorate.” She rubbed her belly again.

  “Are you trying to get me to fetch you some cookies and hot chocolate?”

  “Oh would you?” She smiled warmly at him. “I find I am suddenly starving.”

  “When aren’t you these days,” he said under his breath.

  “Are you complaining about my appetite again, Devlin?”

  “Who, what…..no,” he said, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t do that.”

  “Of course you wouldn’t.” She pursed her lips together. “Well, what are you waiting for? I’m hungry.”

  “I am going.” He made a face at her and slipped out of the room.” Katherine’s laughter followed in his wake.

  Twenty minutes later Devlin walked back through the library doors with a tray full of goodies for Katherine. “Oh hello, de Winter,” he said and adjusted the tray, setting it on the table near the fire.

  Sebastian tensed. “You are visiting again, Renquist.”

  Devlin straightened. “Yes, your wife had the stable lad fetch me when you left her to her own devices once again.” He smiled.

  “Yes, well, I do have work to do, unlike …”

  “Oh Sebastian, please, it’s the holidays.” Katherine gave him a warning glance.

  He sighed audibly. “Sorry, my love,” he said and walked over, leaning down, giving her a kiss. “How is our little guy today?” he asked, rubbing his hand over her swollen belly.

  “Our little girl is doing just fine.” She smiled at him and placed her hand over his.

  “I say de Winter, have you ever cut down a tree for Christmas?” Devlin asked pouring a cup of hot chocolate in a fine porcelain cup.

  “No, why?” he asked. His brow creased.

  Devlin glared at Katherine. “See I told you this cutting tree nonsense just isn’t something we do.” He smirked at her for good measure.

  “Oh come on, Devlin.” Katherine rolled her eyes.

  Sebastian gave her a questioning glance.

  “Devlin is trying to get out of getting a tree for Christmas,” she explained.

  “Well, that is ah…between you two.” Sebastian shook his head back and forth at Devlin, telling him not to bother.

  Katherine saw him. “Stop it, husband.” She hit his arm lightly. “Now tell Devlin he should at the very least get a tree for himself, to get into the spirit of Christmas.”

  “Yes, Devlin, you should get a tree for Christmas,” he repeated and then shrugged.

  “Fine,” Devlin exhaled audibly. “I will get a tree but I have no idea how that will help me get into the spirit for a holiday I have never even celebrated.”

  “Oh that is terrible.” Katherine gave him a sad look.

  “Well it really cannot be terrible when I do not know what I am missing out on. Besides what is the point of getting a tree when I am the only person who will even see it.”

  “We will come and see it,” she said. “Won’t we, husband?”

  Sebastian was shaking his head back and forth saying no, but when he saw his wife’s stern look, he stopped. “Sure, why not,” he exhaled, knowing he didn’t have much choice in the matter.

  “How does one go about getting a tree?” Devlin asked, carrying a cup over to Katherine and set it down on a table.

  “Damned if I know.” Sebastian walked over to his desk, and lifted his papers, riffling through them.

  “Ignore him,” she told Devlin. “All you need is an ax, horse and some rope.”

  “What am I supposed to do with those?”

  “Goodness, Devlin.” She let out an exasperated sigh. “You go out into the woods, find the tree you would like, cut it down and then tie the rope around the bottom and bring it back to Hawthorne.”

  “That seems like a lot of work.” He shivered thinking about all the snow outside.

  “Don’t be so lazy,” she teased. “Anything worthwhile takes work…just ask my husband.”

  Sebastian chuckled. “Yes but it is worth it,” he said, giving Katherine a knowing smile.

  “I can see that,” Devlin muttered, watching the exchange between the two and once again felt like a third wheel. He was getting used to this, but it didn’t make it any easier.

  “Devlin, perhaps you should have one of your servants fetch one for you,” Sebastian said, taking pity on the man.

  “Husband…” Katherine pursed her lips and crossed her arms. “Don’t ruin the fun for Devlin.”

  “Sorry, Devlin…” Sebastian widened his eyes. “Far be it from me to ruin the fun of going out in the snow to retrieve your own tree for Christmas. He shook his head and lifted another paper up. “What was I thinking?” he muttered.

  “See Devlin, even my husband see’s the fun you will have.”

  “Oh joy,” Devlin deadpanned and tugged on his cravat, suddenly feeling claustrophobic. Maybe the fresh air would do him good.

  “You should go soon though,” Sebastian said, eyeing his wife from across the room.

  “Why’s that?” Devlin asked and then wished he didn’t. He could see they wanted to be alone.

  “The snow has let up. If you don’t leave soon I fear you will get caught in another storm,” Sebastian added. Of course, he was actually afraid the man would be stuck at Ravenhurst for the duration of the storm and he had plans of his own to spend some much needed alone time with his wife, not entertaining Devlin.

  “All right,” Devlin sighed. “Might I borrow an ax? I guess I could cut it down on the way home…” he trailed off.

  “Of course,” Sebastian said a bit too enthusiastically. “I will get it for you myself.” He stood and rushed from the room to do
just that.

  “Don’t mind him,” Katherine said, once he was gone.

  “Oh, I don’t,” said Devlin. “I understand he wants to be alone with you. I can’t say as I blame him.”

  Katherine gave him a sad smile. “You will come tomorrow for Christmas…right?”

  “Oh…” Devlin walked over to her side. “I guess if it won’t be too much of an imposition.”

  “Nonsense, everyone will be here.”

  “Who else will be here?” he asked distractedly. Lifting another one of the ornaments from the crate and placed it on one of the green furry branches.

  “Isabelle, Grayson…”

  Devlin visibly cringed. Perfect. He would be a fifth wheel now. “Perhaps I cannot make it after all.”

  “Don’t be silly. Besides, I believe one of Grayson’s nieces will be here as well.”

  “Grayson has a niece?” Devlin gave her a startled look.

  “Yes, I hear she is quite fetching.”

  “Really?” he asked, narrowing his eyes. Funny he had not heard of her.

  “Yes,” she sighed, seeing his look of disbelief, “really.”

  “Well maybe…” He toyed with a branch. “Perhaps I can make it.”

  “After we open presents we can all ride over and look at your tree as well.”

  Devlin was starting to feel better. “Perhaps I can have some refreshments as well. Make it more festive.”

  “Yes, that sounds wonderful,” she said exuberantly.

  Devlin had to wonder if her newfound exuberance was from seeing his tree or the mention of the refreshments he would have.

  “Oooh, will you be having some of those delicious tarts your cook makes?”

  “Of course,” said Devlin, slanting a knowing smile her way.

  “It sounds wonderful…and delicious.” Her eyes glazed over. “After we open presents we will go right over.”

 

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