Christmas Carol

by Speer, Flora

  “Lady Caroline did not give up her virtue,” said Lady Augusta in a kinder voice. “It was taken from her by force and by falsehood, in much the same way in which you lost your virginity.”

  Carol gaped at her, dumbfounded by this disclosure until she realized that of course Lady Augusta would know the details of what the twentieth-century Robert Drummond had done to Carol Simmons. Lady Augusta was in a position to uncover any facts that might be useful to her.

  “Lady Caroline’s brief and violent acquaintance with the early nineteenth-century version of Robert Drummond,” Lady Augusta went on, “left her emotions frozen, so she has been unable to express love toward any man. Today you have rectified that sad event in her life. In so doing, perhaps you have begun to heal the wound in your own life, since you, too, love Nicholas. It is only through love that such healing is possible.”

  “So the same thing happened to Lady Caroline and to me, and in both our cases, it was done by a man with the same name and the same kind of character? Is that why I immediately felt so familiar with her?” Carol wondered, not doubting for a moment what Lady Augusta was telling her, though she was surprised by the odd coincidence. “That must be why I was able to sense her terror whenever Nicholas and I seemed to be getting into a passionate embrace. That poor, terrified woman! I know exactly how she felt.”

  “As I said, your actions today have resolved and forever banished the fears Lady Caroline had about lovemaking,” Lady Augusta told her.

  “Then I have helped and not hurt her? I am glad.” Carol was afraid she would start crying from all the various emotions warring within her.

  “The last and most important thing you can do for Lady Caroline,” said Lady Augusta, “is relinquish the hold your love has on Nicholas. There is a subtle difference between you and Lady Caroline. Nicholas expresses his subconscious uneasiness with that difference by declaring repeatedly that you have changed, because he perceives the difference as a change in his fiancee. Unless you are willing to voluntarily withdraw your love from him, he will never fully accept or love his wife-to-be, because after you have gone from this time, he will be aware of a missing element in her personality. There is only one way to resolve this problem. You must set him free, Carol.”

  “If you are telling me to stop loving him,” Carol said, “then I can’t do it. I can’t just turn off my emotions.”

  “I did not say ‘stop loving him,’” Lady Augusta responded. “I said ‘give him up.’ Willingly. Your willingness to sacrifice your own selfish desires for the sake of another’s happiness is one of the most important aspects of your experience in this time.”

  “I suppose you think it will make me a better person,” Carol grumbled with a touch of her old sarcasm.

  “I know it will. The choice is yours, Carol. You, and you alone, can free Nicholas to love the woman he will marry.” Lady Augusta waited tensely, her sharp eyes still fixed upon Carol’s face.

  It took Carol less than a second to make her decision. The ease with which she made it surprised her, but still, the decision hurt.

  “How could I do anything that would make Nicholas the least bit unhappy?” she asked. “Or cast a shadow on his future with Lady Caroline? I will give him up. I cannot do it happily, but I will do it willingly, as you require.”

  “Excellent.” With a deep sigh, Lady Augusta relaxed. “You have learned this first lesson well. We leave immediately for the twentieth century.” She lifted her arms as if to embrace Carol as she had done once before, when removing Carol to this other time.

  “No, wait!” Carol made an abrupt motion to stop what Lady Augusta was going to do next.

  “What, a change of heart? So quickly?” exclaimed Lady Augusta, regarding her with raised eyebrows. “For shame, Carol. I was beginning to think better of you.”

  “I will still go back with you,” Carol said. “Just not this minute. Look, I did what I was supposed to do in this time. You said so yourself.”

  “Without knowing what your purpose here was,” Lady Augusta reminded her. Carol chose to disregard that comment because what she was going to ask was so important to her.

  “I want something in return for all I’ve done,” Carol said.

  “So, you are selfish still.” Lady Augusta’s pale face went cold and hard.

  “It’s not much to ask,” Carol said. “Just a few hours more. Let me go to the ball tonight. Let me have a waltz with Nicholas, just to feel his arms around me one last time. After tonight, I will never see him again.” Her voice broke and she stopped, unable to continue for the emotions that were threatening to choke her.

  “I am not sure it would be wise.” However, Lady Augusta did appear to be thinking seriously about Carol’s request. “There is always the chance that you will say something you should not.”

  “I won’t,” Carol promised. “I’ll be careful of every word. I want to give Penelope a last hug, too. It’s strange the way I have begun to think of her as my real sister, and in so short a time.

  “Please, Lady Augusta, I’m begging you. This means so much to me. Give me one dance with Nicholas, and the instant the dance is over, you and I can go. I won’t make a scene. You can handle our leave-taking however you want. Just grant me this one wish, so I can say good-bye to him in my own way. He will never know, but in my heart I will be able to end it and to know my time with him is over.”

  “Swear to me that you will guard your every word,” demanded Lady Augusta.

  “I have already said I will, but yes, I swear it on my love for him.”

  “I am not entirely happy with this request of yours, but I can see that you do truly love Nicholas. You may not think so now, when you are in such pain at the thought of parting from him, but you are fortunate, Carol. In my many years on earth, I never loved as you do today. Perhaps if I had allowed myself to care so wholeheartedly, I would not be in my present predicament. Very well, I will grant you the hours from this moment until the first waltz of the ball is finished. However, mark me well. When the last note of music dies at the end of that waltz, we will be gone.”

  Hurrying toward her own room after her interview with Lady Augusta, Carol found Penelope loitering in the upper hall.

  “I have been waiting for you,” Penelope called out as soon as she saw Carol. “Did Aunt Augusta tell you my wonderful news?”

  “No,” Carol replied. “We only spoke about Nicholas. What has happened, my dear?” It seemed perfectly natural to put her arms around Lady Caroline’s sister as if the girl were in truth Carol’s own sibling.

  “After we drank our chocolate and ate the most delicious pastries, Alwyn—that is, Lord Simmons,” Penelope corrected herself with a blush. “Lord Simmons escorted me home and then he spoke to Aunt Augusta. He insisted that I be present, even though Aunt Augusta said it would not be proper. Lord Simmons told us he has obtained his father’s permission to marry me, on the sole condition that Aunt Augusta must also approve the match.” Penelope paused for a moment before concluding her announcement.

  “Caroline, Alwyn formally asked for my hand, right there in front of me, and Aunt Augusta agreed. We are to be married in the spring, shortly after you and Nicholas are wed.”

  “Oh, Penelope.” Carol embraced and kissed her. “Be happy all your life, my dearest sister. You are the sister of my heart.”

  “Caroline, are you actually weeping for my joy?” With careful tenderness Penelope brushed the tears off Carol’s cheeks. She could not know that they were not only for her happy betrothal, but were also tears of parting. This was their farewell, for though Carol would be with Penelope and Lady Augusta at a dinner party that evening, after which they would all go on to the ball, the two of them would not be alone together again. While she might be ignorant of the true cause of Carol’s tears, Penelope was not blind.

  “Caroline, you are in some disarray,” Penelope observed. “It is most unlike you to be untidy. Is something wrong? I was worried when I arrived home with Alwyn and Aunt Augusta told me y
ou were not yet here. Where have you been?”

  “I went to see Nicholas. We spent the afternoon—we spent it talking.” Carol could feel herself blushing.

  “You went to his house without a chaperone? From the look of you, the two of you weren’t just talking. Has Nicholas been taking liberties with your person?”

  “I didn’t mind at all,” Carol said with perfect truth.

  “Caroline,” gasped Penelope, giggling a little, “how could you?”

  “Because I love him.”

  “Oh, what a relief!” Penelope let out a long breath. “And here I thought you were marrying him for my sake, to get a larger dowry for me.”

  “You weren’t supposed to know. How did you find out?” Carol asked.

  “Do you think I am a complete dunce? I guessed, of course, after Aunt Augusta revealed to me weeks ago that I was to be handsomely provided for in your marriage settlement. I thought I was the only reason you agreed to marry Nicholas.”

  “She never told me that you knew! I have been trying so hard not to say a word that might give you the slightest hint about the arrangements being made for you. Are you telling me that we have been hiding the same secret from each other?” Carol cried.

  “It seems so.” Penelope gave one of her quick, little laughs. “What a fine joke! And all this time I have been wondering how to thank you for your willingness to sacrifice yourself for my sake after you have claimed for years that you never wanted to marry anyone. It is good to know that Nicholas was able to change your mind—and your heart.”

  “I love you, Penelope.” Carol found it remarkably easy to say what she felt for this sweet girl.

  “I love you, too. You are the very best of sisters,” Penelope responded, adding with a bright smile, “Isn’t it fortunate that Alwyn and Nicholas are such good friends? And their country estates are near to each other, too. We won’t be separated by our marriages the way some sisters are.”

  “I cannot think of anything in this world that would keep your sister apart from you,” Carol replied, knowing with absolute certainty that Lady Caroline would agree.

  The Christmas Eve ball was held at yet another of the great London mansions to which Lady Caroline, her sister, and her aunt were regularly invited. This particular mansion was even more heavily decorated for Christmas than was Marlowe House. Thick garlands of evergreens were hung around the mirrored, gilded ballroom and the smaller nearby chambers. Vases of hothouse flowers added their sweet fragrance to the sharper scent of the abundant greenery. Hundreds of fine beeswax candles in glittering chandeliers shone their light upon the richly dressed crowd as the guests wandered about exchanging holiday greetings before the dancing began.

  Carol found the seasonal cheerfulness a sad contrast to her state of mind, though on the surface she did not think anyone could notice anything different about her. She was wearing a gown in a soft shade of rose silk and with it, the sapphire and diamond necklace Nicholas had given to his fiancee.

  On this festive evening Lady Augusta was resplendent in lavender draperies and pearls.

  The first sight of her as they were preparing to leave Marlowe House sent a chill to Carol’s heart, reminding her of the costume Lady Augusta had worn on the night when she first appeared in Carol’s bedchamber. The prospect of being wrapped into those draperies a second time was almost too much for Carol to bear, and all the more so because she knew when the moment came she would be torn from people for whom she had learned to care deeply.

  The three ladies greeted their host and hostess and then moved on into the ballroom, where Lord Simmons immediately appeared to salute them with a warmth and charm that made Carol understand why Penelope was so attracted to him. He promptly filled Penelope’s dance card for the three dances allowed by the rules of etiquette, and wrote his name on Carol’s card, too, for two dances.

  “May I stretch propriety a little and claim a fourth dance with Penelope, since she is to be my wife?” he asked Lady Augusta. “Let the gossips say what they will tonight, the news of our betrothal will soon be out and then everyone will understand.”

  After Lady Augusta assented, Lord Simmons led Penelope away to take their places in the first dance. With a sense of finality Carol watched them go, certain that she and the girl whom she now thought of as her sister would never speak together again.

  “Tell me about them,” Carol murmured. “About their future lives.”

  Lady Augusta did not answer at once. Like Carol, she was watching Penelope and her new fiance. After a long wait, she spoke with her gaze still on the young couple.

  “They will marry, of course,” Lady Augusta said, “and will produce four sons and a daughter.”

  “What about the name?” Carol asked. “Lord Simmons’s given name, Alwyn, was my father’s middle name.”

  “Ah, yes,” said Lady Augusta, “I thought your guess at that particular truth would be accurate. Thirty years from now, the youngest son of Penelope and Lord Simmons will journey to America and settle there. Those two dancing together are your great-grandparents many generations past.”

  “Penelope is my ancestor?” Carol’s eyes filled. She blinked hard. “Thank you for telling me. What about Nicholas and Caroline?”

  “Indeed, what of Nicholas and Caroline?” said a beloved voice from just behind Carol. Nicholas continued, teasing the women, “Are you two rearranging our wedding plans? If so, I implore you to name an earlier date. I find I am becoming impatient.” This last was said with a glance into Carol’s eyes that almost broke her heart with its tenderness.

  “Actually,” said Lady Augusta, “we were speaking about Penelope and Alwyn.”

  “Is it Alwyn now?” Though he was speaking to Lady Augusta, Nicholas was still smiling into Carol’s eyes. “Does this mean the attachment is official?”

  “They received my approval late this afternoon, as you very well know, since you helped to ease the path to their hearts’ desire,” said Lady Augusta. Her voice suddenly taking on a sharpness that must have seemed odd to Nicholas, she added, “I assume you have presented yourself in order to claim this next dance with your fiancée. I believe the dance cards say it will be a waltz. I shall now retire to the card room to join Lord Falloner for a game of piquet until you have finished.”

  Carol wanted to tell Nicholas to wait, to sit this dance out with her and not take her onto the floor until the next waltz, but with Lady Augusta looking hard at her she did not dare attempt a delay that would give her more time with him. Her heart aching with love and grief, she put her hand into his and stepped to the center of the floor. Nicholas took her into his arms and they began to dance.

  Carol knew she would have only a few minutes more to touch him and to memorize his strong, handsome face. She kept her eyes fastened on him as they whirled about the floor. His steps were sure and she followed him easily, without having to think about what she was doing. They were meant to be together like this, with Carol safe in his arms and Nicholas gazing at her with an affection he did not trouble to conceal. For these last, brief moments they moved along together, twirling and gliding in their own enchanted space into which the rest of the world—and the rest of .time—could not intrude.

  “I love you so much,” Carol whispered. “Whatever happens in the future, don’t ever forget that, and never doubt that I am grateful for the way you treated me this afternoon. I do not regret what we did together and I never will.”

  “I am not sorry for those hours either.” His tender smile almost reduced her to tears. “I love you, Caroline.” He said more, but the music was just ending and his voice began to fade in her ears.

  “Nicholas?” She wasn’t sure he could hear her. What Carol heard instead of Nicholas’s words was Lady Augusta’s voice, though Lady Augusta was still in the card room. By now it was probably the real Lady Augusta who was sitting at the piquet table with Lord Falloner, both of them completely unaware of what was happening. The Lady Augusta whom Carol knew was there in the ballroom with her, and t
his Lady Augusta was invisible.

  “The dance I allowed you as a special favor is finished,” Lady Augusta said. “Now we must leave.”

  For an instant or two Carol could still feel Nicholas’s arms around her, before his figure started to blur. To Carol’s eyes, the ballroom began to grow dark and the musicians, who were just striking up for the next dance after the waltz, seemed to her to be more and more distant and off key.

  “Please, Lady Augusta, wait for just a moment,” Carol begged. “Let me see him happy with her. Let me know my breaking heart isn’t a waste.”

  “I cannot permit a further extension of your time here,” Lady Augusta began, but she was interrupted. Another, deeper voice spoke with a sound that reverberated through Carol’s head like thunder and yet was gentle as a sigh.

  “Because you love honestly, “ said the voice, “your wish is granted. Behold.”

  The darkness surrounding Carol parted, so she could see the ballroom again, bright with candles and Christmas decorations. She saw Lady Caroline standing with Nicholas’s hand holding hers. As she watched, Lady Caroline swayed, putting her free hand to her forehead. Nicholas bent toward her with open concern on his handsome face. Lady Caroline said something and Nicholas smiled. Taking the hand he held, he tucked it into his elbow and led her off the dance floor, toward a row of French doors that opened to the gardens. Every line of Nicholas’s body conveyed the same loving protectiveness as the expression with which he was now regarding his fiancée.

  “They will be happy, “ said the voice in Carol’s head, “and that happiness is your doing.”

  “Thank you.” Carol said the words aloud, though she believed the Owner of the voice would have heard them even if she had only spoken them in her mind.

  “Come, Carol.” That was Lady Augusta. “We have overstayed our time.”

  Lady Augusta’s arms were around her. On this second occasion, Carol was better prepared for the chill of her companion’s embrace. This time, the bitter cold could not compare to the grief of parting forever from her only love, or to the knifelike pain of the loneliness now filling her heart.