A Victorian Christmas

by Lorraine Beaumont

  “Merry Christmas to me,” he said, smiling, looking up into the snow filled sky. Now he would get to spend more time with Sadie…alone. Walking across the soft carpet, he went to get ready for the day. It looked like it was going to be a fine day after all.

  Ravenhurst, the following morning

  “Hallelujah!” Sebastian cheered, seeing nothing but snow. Lots and lots of wonderful, there was no way in hell anyone could travel in this much snow, snow. It was a Christmas miracle. Letting go of the curtain, it swooshed back into place. Sebastian grinned. “Merry Christmas to me,” he sang out, making his way across the room.

  “What are you so happy about, husband?” asked Katherine, sitting up in bed. Pushing her long hair over her shoulder, she propped herself on the pillows.

  “It is a bloody blizzard outside. Can you imagine we will get to spend the whole day alone?”

  “You are bad,” she giggled at his exuberance.

  “Yes and you love that about me.” He gave her a rakish smile.

  “You are quite right husband,” she agreed wholeheartedly. “Now get in this bed and do your husbandly duties.”

  “Yes, my wife, your wish is my command. I am your humble servant for the day.”

  Hawthorne Manor, Getting Ready

  The person looking back at Sadie in the mirror didn’t look like the girl she was but a short while ago, but instead another person altogether. Smoothing her hand over the fine wool of the gown, she took a breath, bracing herself for the day ahead.

  “Well, it is now or never,” she said, then turned and left the room. She had decided to embrace the day and make the most of her current predicament. Once in the hall however, her step faltered and she looked down toward Devlin’s room.

  “What if he finds out I am not the Duke’s niece?” She expelled a nervous breath. “Just stop it!” she berated herself.

  The bottom of her gown made a soft swishing noise on the carpet as she took a step toward his room. Three steps in however, she stopped, chickening out. Turning around, and marching in the other direction she headed for the stairs. A clanking noise, like dishes hitting one another, wafted up from below. Grabbing the banister, she made her way down the stairs to the foyer. A table sat beside the door, with spindly legs and a large mirror hanging over the top.

  “Now where do I go?” She looked to her left into the study, but it was empty. There was another room across the hall and she walked to it. Standing outside, she felt a shiver of unease as she lifted her hand to the knob.

  Again, she heard the clanking-clinking sound and smelled food. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. She pulled her hand away.

  “Well that answers that,” she muttered, her need for food winning out against her curiosity. The hall was long and had many closed doors, but she kept walking until she made it to the end. A short flight of stairs was to her right and another closed door was to her left.

  “How many rooms does this place have?” Deciding to take the stairs, she headed in that direction. Actually, it was the smell of food directing her now, and unfortunately, it smelled like it was burning. Once at the bottom she pushed open the swinging door and walked inside. And there he was, his hair sticking up, beating a pan on an ancient looking stove.

  “Bloody Hell!” he groaned, running the flaming pan over to the sink and tossed it inside.

  “Don’t put water on that,” Sadie yelled from the doorway, rushing forward. “Where is your salt?”

  “Salt?” he asked, his surprise at seeing her, clearly etched on his handsome face.

  “Yes, where is the salt?”

  “Here,” said Devlin, shoving out a crock toward her.

  She reached inside the crock and pulled out a handful of salt, tossing it directly onto the burning flame. It wasn’t enough.

  “Dang it.”

  She upended the crock and dumped the entire amount on top. She may not know how to cook very well but she had certainly watched enough cooking shows to know you never put water on an oil fire.

  “Well, that should do it.” Grabbing a towel off the counter she wiped off her hands.

  Devlin stood there, feeling well… he wasn’t sure what he felt. “Thank you.”

  “You are quite welcome.” She gave him a winning smile. “Was that was breakfast?”

  “It was,” he said, glancing at the mess in the sink. “Now it is rather burnt, I am afraid.”

  “Yes, it is quite crispy,” she said laughingly looking down at the blackened bits of …well she really couldn’t tell.

  “I am not a very good cook,” he confided, giving her a sheepish smile.

  “Neither am I,” she said. “But I can make eggs and toast…” She looked at the ancient stove. “I think.”

  “I can burn eggs.” He lifted his brows.

  “Those were eggs?” She chewed on her lip, trying not to laugh.

  “Yes, they were …” He frowned down at the broken blackened balls.

  “You left the eggs in their shells.” She did laugh then. She couldn’t help it.

  “I was wondering why they were not cooking properly.” Devlin chuckled, shaking his head. “You must think I am quite daft.”

  “Not at all,” she said. “I have damaged my fair share of eggs as well.”

  “We are quite a pair are we not?”

  “Yes,” she said, smiling, “we are.”

  “Well, I am not sure what I have to offer you for breakfast...” He looked around the room.

  “Do you have any …” For the first time she looked around the room that was supposed to be a kitchen, she guessed. It was strangest kitchen she had ever seen. “How about bread, do you have any of that?”

  “Yes, I think so.” He walked into a door in the back of the room and came out a few moments later carrying a loaf of bread. “Here we go.”

  “Ah, do you have a knife?”

  “I hope there is one in here.”

  “Who cooks for you?”

  “Cook,” he said.

  “Yes, who cooks for you?” she asked again.

  “Cook does all the cooking for me,” he said giving her a confused look.

  “Oh, your Cook, cooks for you.” She laughed. “That’s a mouthful.”

  “A mouthful?” he repeated.

  “Never mind,” she said, twisting the towel in her hand. “If you can find a knife I can at least cut us some of this delicious looking bread.” Her cheeks bloomed with color. She was lying. The bread didn’t look that appetizing. It looked a bit old and was that mold? Gross.

  “This…” he pointed to the nasty bread, “looks delicious to you?” He shook his head and released a gust of air. “I have to say, if you think this loaf of green bread looks delicious, than my eggs must look positively brilliant.” He cocked his brow at her, a smile playing on his lips.

  “No.” She shook her head, scrunching up her face. “I was being polite.”

  “Well don’t,” he laughed. “Your politeness may very well get you accidentally poisoned.”

  “Oh, right.” She laughed again.

  “I know.” He lifted his finger in the air. “I had cook make something for my guests but since there is a blizzard, I think we should have a go at them.” He turned and left the room once more and came back out holding a tray of delicious looking sweets.

  “What are those?”

  “These,” he said, holding the tray aloft, “are confections.”

  “Yum,” she said, her mouthwatering. “They are lovely.” She tucked her hair behind her ears and leaned forward to get a better look.

  “Yes,” he agreed looking at her face. Her eyes met his, and he cleared his throat. “How about I make us some tea or coffee and we eat these in the study by the fire?”

  “That sounds wonderful but I think I should prepare the tea…you know since you and that stove don’t get along too well,” she added.

  “Yes, that sounds like the safest course of action at this point.” He set the tray on the table and then walked back to the p
antry to get the items they would need for tea.

  Tea for two

  A short time later in the study, flames roared in the fireplace. Sadie took a sip of her third cup of tea…her belly full of the confections she had eaten.

  Devlin tossed another log on the fire. “Well, that is the last of the wood,” he said, standing. “I suppose I will have to go out and get some more.”

  “May I come with you?”

  “Are you sure?” he asked lifting his brow. “It is very cold outside”

  “I have a cloak.”

  “Yes, I remember,” he said, brushing off his hands.

  Sadie stood. “Let me run up and get it, then we can go and play in the snow.”

  “Play in the snow?”

  “Yes, we can make snow angels,” she said excitedly. She hadn’t played in the snow since she was a child. And the prospect of doing it with him was making her feel giddy. Of course, it could have been from all the sweets she’d eaten.

  “Very well,” he said. “Upstairs, in the bureau, I think I saw some gloves, so be sure to grab a pair.”

  “Oh yes, I saw them this morning.”

  “I will meet you back here directly.”

  “Got it,” she said, lifting her skirts practically running from the room.

  “Play in the snow?” Devlin shook his head. “How odd,” he mumbled, and even though it was indeed an odd thing to do, he suddenly found that he was excited at the prospect doing such a frivolous thing.

  Meanwhile at Radcliff Manor, complaining 101

  “Where are all my presents?” Eliza huffed, in the midst of having another one of her mini tantrums.

  “Dear, they are under the tree.” Isabelle was at the end of her patience. The girl was wearing on her nerves and she hadn’t even been here for an entire day. And the end of her torture wasn’t in sight either with the snow falling so heavily. Later, when they went out to visit Sebastian and Katherine, she had hoped for a break. Actually she was hoping to dump the chit on them for a few days so she could give Grayson his gift in private.

  However, that didn’t look like it was going to happen anytime soon. “Bloody Hell,” she muttered into her teacup.

  “Where are your gifts, Isabelle?” Eliza turned and stared at her Uncle’s “friend,” as he had referred to her last night, when she arrived unexpectedly.

  “Mine are under the tree as well.” Isabelle took a sip of her tea, wishing the little brat had stayed in London.

  “Oh,” she exhaled, folding her arms. “It doesn’t look he got you very much,” she said, mentally counting each gift. The ones with the pretty ribbons were the ones she was getting from her Uncle. She knew this because she made him point them out to her last night.

  ”Eliza,” said Grayson, giving her a warning glance. “The rest of your gifts are in London at my Townhouse. I didn’t know you were coming so early, remember?” Grayson rubbed his face. He had been looking forward to spending Christmas alone with Isabelle. He had a special gift he wanted to give her, but now he wasn’t sure what he was going to do.

  “Right, I had forgotten.” Eliza made a pouty face. “I suppose that pittance will have to do.” The bottom of her pale yellow gown dotted with bows swirled out around her feet as she breezed across the room. Once she made it to the tree, she stopped. “Are we opening gifts now?”

  “No, not yet,” said Grayson, placing another log on the fire.

  “Why not?” whined Eliza. “I am bored.” She stomped her foot.

  “Eliza dear,” said Isabelle, her patience wearing like a fraying rope. She was almost to her limit. “Why don’t you run along now and entertain yourself for a while until we open the gifts.”

  “And do what?” she said, pushing a gift with the toe of her shoe. The tag said Izzy. “What a stupid name,” she muttered, kicking it further under the tree.

  “I don’t know, perhaps you should go outside and play in the snow,” suggested Isabelle.

  “Pl—lay in the snow?” Eliza sputtered. “I am not a child nor am I a heathen, Isabelle,” she snarled her name and turned, her dark blue eyes glinting indignantly. “Proper young ladies do not play in the snow.” She shuddered, appalled at the prospect.

  Grayson exhaled heavily. His niece was trying his patience. She had been such a sweet child, too. Now however, she was fast becoming his least favorite niece. He had ten. His brother Graham was a busy man—a very busy man. For the longest time he envied the man, but now seeing how his niece had turned out, it was a blessing he did not have any offspring of his own.

  “Eliza, perhaps you should go to the library and see if there are any books to your liking?”

  “I doubt it.” She exhaled heavily and turned a small ornament of a deer around, making the antlers ram into the backside of a nutcracker. She smiled at her handiwork and brushed her hands off. Sap stuck to her third finger. A little blonde angel was on the tree and she tried to wipe the sap on the full little frilly skirt. It didn’t come off. “Damn!”

  “Eliza,” Grayson warned.

  “I have sap on my finger,” she complained.

  “Well go and wash it off.”

  “Fine,” she bristled. Turning she gave Isabelle a snide look and then stomped from the room, making one of the bows fall off the bottom of her gown.

  “I don’t know what happened to her,” Grayson said absently after she left. He bent over to pick up the small bow, adjusting the ribbon. “She used to be such a sweet child.”

  “She did?” asked Isabelle clearly shocked. “I mean, ah, mayhap she is having an off day?” she covered. It was his niece after all.

  “Regrettably, I do not think that is the case,” said Grayson, sitting down heavily on the sofa beside her. “I had such plans for us today,” he said wistfully.

  “You did?” she asked, reaching out to brush his hair away from his forehead.

  “Yes, and now I am afraid they are ruined.” He took her hand and pressed it to his cheek, holding it. “I am sorry.”

  “Nonsense,” she said, caressing his face. “There is nothing to be sorry about.” She leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss.

  “I will make it up to you,” he promised, taking her face in his hands.

  “I can hardly wait,” she said, sliding her hand over his chest and further down between his muscular thighs.

  He chuckled throatily. “What you do to me.” He closed his eyes, enjoying the moment. Too soon he heard his niece stomping back down the stairs and groaned, “Bloody hell!”

  Isabelle sat back up and removed her hand, saying a silent, “Bloody Hell” as well.

  Chapter Ten: Hawthorne Manor, Snowball Fight

  “On the tenth day of Christmas my true love gave to me…ten lords a leaping”

  A snowball whizzed past Devlin’s head. “Did you just try to hit me with a snowball?” He looked appalled.

  “I am trying, but you keep moving.” Sadie laughed and grabbed up another handful of snow, making a nice ball. Taking aim, she threw it as hard as she could.

  Devlin leaned to the left, dodging that one as well. “This is war,” he declared and scooped up a handful of snow.

  “You can’t declare war,” she laughed. “I already declared it against you by tossing the first snowball.”

  “I am declaring a second war.” He grinned and took aim.

  “The first war isn’t even over yet,” Sadie yelled out, but a sudden gust of harsh wind tore her words away. She broke into a run. The length of her cloak combined with her skirts slowed her escape. A snowball hit her square in the back, splattering. She fell forward to her knees, laughing.

  “That’s it!” She jumped up. “I will get you for that,” she warned, laughing harder and scooped up another ball of snow. With her arm lifted, she turned around. “Devlin?” she called. The area was empty. He wasn’t there. Pulling her hood back up, she shielded her eyes against the icy pellets of snow that were falling in earnest.

  “Devlin,” she called out, suddenly worried. “Where
did you go?” Taking big steps, she waded through the snow. The wind tore at her cloak and sleet pelted against her, making it hard to see. She didn’t realize she had run so far. The house was barely visible in the distance.

  “Devlin,” she yelled again, knee deep in snow. The wind ripped her words away. She was getting a bad feeling, a really bad feeling. What if he was hurt or lost in the sudden white out? This had happened a few times where she lived. All the white had a way of making a person disorientated, so it was easy to get lost.

  Something grabbed her cloak.

  “Ambush!” yelled Devlin, pulling her down easily into the snow.

  “Why you,” she said, and hit his chest lightly. “I thought you were hurt.”

  “I was using a tactical maneuver to win the war,” he boasted, laughing, sitting up.

  “That’s cheating.”

  “I beg to differ,” he said. “All is fair in war.” His dark eyes glittered with laughter.

  “We’ll see about that.” She shoved his chest, hard.

  Not expecting the shove he fell backward into the snow. She jumped on top of him, straddling him. “I win!” she cheered, lifting her arms in the air like a prizefighter.

  Devlin watched her utterly mesmerized.

  “To the victor goes the spoils,” she laughed, lowering her arms and pressing her hands to his chest. “What is my prize?” She leaned forward, her hood shielding them to the snow.

  “This.” Devlin pulled her closer and kissed her soundly on the lips. He only meant to do it as a joke and then release her, but the moment his lips touched hers he couldn’t let go.

  Sadie didn’t expect the kiss but as it turns out it was the most perfect kiss she had ever received. Everything fell away and it no longer mattered that they were in a snow bank or out in the midst of a blizzard. No, nothing mattered. Not now.