Yuletide Happily Ever Afters; A Merry Little Set Of Regency Romances

by Jenna Jaxon

  A pang of some unwanted emotion washed through her.

  He ought to have stayed. A part of her wanted to run and hide from him, but the other part could never put him far from her mind.

  Loretta increased her pace when a frigid gust of air penetrated the material of her long woolen coat.

  Why had she pushed him away?

  With the death of her husband and oldest son, and Harold’s disappearance, she’d experienced tremendous change over the past eighteen months.

  But Thomas.

  His companionship had not been tragic. It had been… comforting. His manners, his habits, they were all so very different from hers. Was different such a horrible thing?

  She liked the affection he’d shown her. Even now, she craved his touch!

  ***

  Thomas had no intention of missing Christmas with his daughter and grandson and all of her friends. But mostly he had no intention of allowing the duchess to face the Christmas holiday without him.

  He thought he knew what she needed and an idea had formed in his brain that afternoon in the gallery. If he hurried quickly enough, and met with a small amount of luck, he’d be back in time for Christmas Eve.

  Or perhaps he’d need a large amount of luck. What he lacked in luck, he’d make up for in perseverance, damn it. After a day and a half of travel, he’d have preferred to check into some lodgings and rest, but he didn’t have time. So instead, he began his search.

  There was one Christmas gift he could give that might change everything for her and he’d find it if he had to tear the docks apart to do so.

  ***

  Celebrating Christmas Eve tried Loretta’s emotions more than she had expected. How had she never noticed before that the holiday allowed for displays of affection, both in gift giving and physical touch?

  And this year, more so in particular, a plethora of young love descended upon Eden’s Court. The four girls who’d formed their friendships sitting along the dance floor with other wallflowers had all managed to find true love. Miss Goodnight was now Lady Blakely, Miss Mossant had married Lord Carlisle, and Cecily had eventually become the Countess of Kensington after all.

  In addition to Sophia’s close friends, distant Prescott family members had been invited. Loretta’s own parents had not traveled due to weakened health, nor had any of her younger sisters made the journey, but a few cousins were in residence as well as many unfamiliar faces who Loretta assumed to be related to Sophia’s mother and stepfather.

  Overall, the manor was overrun with merriment.

  Sitting in church, this evening, Loretta captured a small measure of the peace she needed to get through the next thirty-six hours.

  She listened to the story she’d heard every year for most of her life, hoping she could extract some measure of comfort. The message of forgiveness, hope, and new beginnings.

  Could such a message be applied to her own life?

  It would mean forgiving herself, and yes, Harold, for leaving her. It would mean forgiving God, for taking Prescott and Lucas from her so violently. It would mean forgiving God for giving her a husband who could never love her, and then a son whose love would be considered equally tainted.

  Loretta closed her eyes and waited for the Christmas message to fill her soul.

  Please, dear God, Please. She needed a sign. She needed something to know that her life hadn’t been lived in vain.

  The congregation rose, and the choir took up singing, Silent Night, Holy Night.

  What about this song tormented her? That it was about a son, a son who’d been sacrificed. Silent night, holy night, Son of God, love’s pure light. Radiant beams from Thy holy face, With the dawn of redeeming grace.*

  A Lord who would sacrifice his own son would not hate Harold for who he was. This Lord would only love him, and accept him, with all of his redeeming grace.

  Loretta dabbed at her eyes with the handkerchief clutched in one fist. She could not begin crying now.

  She bit her lip until the song came to an end, and all that could be heard were a few shuffling feet and a cough from behind her.

  Prayer. More songs. Songs about Joy and Heaven. A crying child. And then at last, the reverend wished them all the happiest of Christmases and dismissed them into the loving embrace of their families.

  Prescott escorted her outside and into the waiting carriage.

  Oh, but it was starting to snow again after all! Just a few flurries, but perhaps they’d amount to something by morning time and the children could coast down the hills on sleds and frolic in the snow after all.

  The children.

  In her heart, she remembered Lucas, Harold, even Devlin and some of their other cousins on long ago Christmases before the world had turned dim.

  Sophia climbed in behind her and then Devlin.

  With Devlin’s knock on the ceiling, the driver slowly pulled the carriage away from the church, careful of all those who must travel on foot. Loretta willed away tears.

  One needed to embrace life every day, for in the blink of an eye everything might very well be gone. And yet, in her heart, she was the same girl she’d always been. She’d simply taken a few turns she’d not expected.

  At this thought, she furrowed her brows.

  The carriage was traveling in the wrong direction.

  “Dev?” She turned to face her nephew and his wife. Both Prescott and Sophia smiled secretly.

  “Where is the driver taking us?”

  “A Christmas surprise for you, Aunt.” The carriage slowed to a halt before turning onto a seldom used road at the edge of Prescott property. “Not long now.”

  From what Loretta remembered, this road would take then to an old gamekeeper’s lodge. One that hadn’t been used for years, having been replaced with one closer to the main house.

  “I don’t want any presents,” she chided them. “You know that.”

  But the young couple continued to sit quietly, smiles dancing upon their lips. The carriage bounced and turned through the winding road until it came to a halt. Yes, this was indeed the old gamekeeper’s cottage. But what?

  And then the door to the carriage flew open and Loretta could hardly believe her eyes.

  Thomas?

  With only moonlight shining down on them, to illuminate the man peering inside, she could not be certain.

  “Come inside, Duchess. We’ve a fire burning and some hot cider.” He reached into the carriage and offered his hand.

  Of course, she took it.

  “You came back?” She glanced over at Devlin and Sophia. Oh, she ought to be dreadfully embarrassed. What had Thomas told them?

  But tonight, for some reason, none of it mattered. All that mattered was that he’d returned, and she was not to imagine him alone on Christmas after all.

  And when his hand wrapped around her gloved one, she felt.

  Comfort.

  Peace.

  Belonging.

  “Oh, how silly of all of you,” she chastised them as she alighted from the carriage. Once outside, she noticed another carriage parked along the side of the house, and a few horses. “Thomas could just as easily have come back to the house for dinner. I’m certain Cecily will be happy to have him here for the holiday. And little Finn.”

  But instead of climbing out behind her, Dev reached forward and took hold of the door. “We’ll see you back later tonight. Tomorrow morning, if you wish.”

  Did they think?

  Had Thomas told them she…?

  Before she could utter a word of protest, Dev had closed the door and the carriage sprang forward.

  “Thomas Findlay!” She huffed. How could she be so happy to see him and yet so utterly aghast at his actions. And Dev! Suggesting she would wish to stay the night alone with Thomas again!

  As though he knew!

  “Now Duchess,” Thomas patted her hand reassuringly. “Such the hussy. If you’ll take a moment to follow me, you’ll soon discover I’m not so unsavory as to suggest to your nephew that I’
d keep you all to myself overnight. Again.” He added the last bit with a twinkle lurking behind those gray-blue eyes of his.

  He gestured toward the cottage, and she could indeed hear voices from within. They were not alone? What the devil was going on, then?

  And then she allowed him to lead her along the cobbled path to the door. Watching her carefully, he reached forward and opened it.

  A shadowed figure stepped forward, one with a familiar tilt to his head. He removed his hat and the moonlight struck his face.

  “Harold?” The name barely escaped past her lips. It could not be. Surely, her mind was playing tricks upon her.

  “Mother.” It had been so long since she’d heard that voice. He spoke the name she’d never expected to be called again. She felt frozen in time, as though this moment could not be real. But when she realized he was holding back, uncertain of her reception, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  Her son. She’d not embraced him in years. But he was here. Standing before her. She couldn’t help the tears that suddenly cascaded like a waterfall.

  So many tears.

  At first, he held himself stiffly, but of course, they’d never been a family for outward gestures of affection.

  But that was the past.

  After a moment, he relaxed and dropped his arms around her, hugging her into him even more tightly.

  “Oh, Harold, I’ve missed you so.” She mumbled the words into his shirt front. Her son. Her child. A trembling set in that she could not stop.

  Her son embraced her even more tightly.

  “I’m so sorry, Mama.” He’d not called her that since he’d been a child. He shook in her arms as well. “I’m so sorry you had to go through everything alone. I never meant to hurt you.” He apologized over and over again, but she simply shook her head.

  “I’m just so very happy to see you. You cannot know…”

  After what could have been several minutes or several hours, Loretta eventually loosened her arms so that she could step back and look up at him. She did not release him completely though, keeping her hands on his as she regarded him.

  He seemed more muscular, harder, older and less uncertain of himself. It had only been eighteen months since he plunged off the cliff into the ocean, but it felt as though it had been a lifetime.

  He turned his head and chuckled. “They have decided to give us some time alone.”

  The door was closed, and she and Harold were the only two people in the room. Thomas would have left, but…“They?”

  “Stewart came with me.”

  Ah, his Valet. His friend. His…

  Love.

  She had so many questions, so many things she needed to say to him. But suddenly she felt awkward, after such an unseemly display of emotion. Her face was likely red and her eyes puffy. She withdrew the already damp handkerchief from her reticule and began dabbing at her eyes.

  “We’ve been waiting for you.” He turned away towards the stove. “I’ve tea and sweetmeats and bread. Sophia and Dev figured we’d want to spend some time together. We’ll travel south again in the early morning hours. I cannot be seen, of course, especially in these whereabouts.”

  He moved about gracefully, placing cups and cutlery on a nearby table. Harold had always shown refinement and dignity in social situations. When she finally had the wherewithal to glance around at her surroundings, she smiled. “You’ve decorated.” Sprigs of evergreen and holly were pinned along the walls. Ah, and yes, the room smelled of cloves and oranges. “You’ve always loved the festivities at Christmastide.”

  He laughed a little self-consciously. “I didn’t have time to buy you a present.”

  “Oh, but Harold, you are the present. I cannot imagine a greater gift.” He pulled out a wooden chair for her, and she sat down at the setting he’d laid out.

  Where did one begin?

  “I wanted to come, as soon as I’d heard about the accident. I cannot imagine a world without Prescott and Lucas.” He poured her tea and mixed it exactly as she liked. No sugar and just a dab of cream.

  Loretta sobered at the memory. At the time, she’d believed Harold already dead as well. For days, weeks, it seemed, it had hurt to simply breathe. But Sophia had been there to support her, as had Dev.

  “Dev is Prescott now.” She spoke softly. “He and Sophia… They told me everything. A body had been discovered. They could have perpetuated the lie, but Dev said I needed to know.” Her words made it sound as though she were yet angry with him for lying. Oh, and but she had been! But this was not the time for such ridiculous recriminations! She needed to apologize to him, for making him feel the need to go to such drastic measures. She glanced up and met his serious brown gaze. “I’m so sorry, my darling. For making you feel as though you could not be accepted. For making you feel like any less of a man. I love you. You are my child. There is nothing you could ever do that would cause that love to die.”

  He squeezed his eyes closed, and his throat worked a time or two, as though he found it difficult to swallow. “It was not your fault, Mama. I knew that you loved me, but I also knew you were terribly frightened for me. The rumors had become more and more vicious, I knew. Stewart and I both had heard of them. Marrying Sophia was not a horrible idea. And it might have worked, but I could not trap Sophia for a lifetime. And I could not go on pretending forever.”

  “I do not fault you for it. My unhappiness was only because I knew how difficult it would make your life. And I had dreams of my own. But those were only my dreams. Your dreams, your happiness were what truly mattered.”

  “I know you always loved me.” His voice caught and then he took a sip of tea. “Even father, in his own way.”

  Loretta smiled ironically at his words. They were the same thing she’d told herself time and time again. But Prescott’s love hadn’t been anything to build one’s life around. She’d learned something different recently. And now, they’d both apologized, she and Harold. And having tea with him almost felt like old times.

  “Sophia and Dev know you are here, then? Did Dev plan this?” It would be just like her nephew to do something so wonderfully considerate. And on Christmas, no less.

  But Harold was shaking his head. “Findlay, Lady Kensington’s father. Tracked me down and demanded I come make an accounting to my mother.” Harold continued talking, telling her how Thomas Findlay had located him at the special lodging house near the docks. How he’d recognized him from a portrait he’d seen, and then remembered, but Loretta only half listened to the details.

  Thomas Findlay had done this? For her?

  After she’d sent him away. After she’d told him he was beneath her.

  He’d brought to her the only Christmas gift that could have possibly given her any joy whatsoever. And in doing so, he’d opened up her heart to love again.

  How had he known?

  Oh, Thomas.

  Dear, dear Thomas.

  She and Harold took tea, talked of his new life, of how he and Stewart and some of their friends who suffered the same affliction would eventually travel to an island they’d learned of. But they were waiting for spring to come. And some of them had other arrangements to tend to first.

  But eventually they would leave. Although they remained rather hidden and protected in their disguises and community, they were not safe.

  He would eventually leave.

  But for now, he was here. She even asked him how he and Stewart were getting along.

  Harold blushed, causing Loretta to reach out and grasp his hand. “It is fine. I am happy you discovered somebody so very special, somebody who makes you happy.” And then a short knock sounded at the door.

  “Come in!”

  The blustering wind carried a few snowflakes inside as the door swung open to allow Thomas and a familiar looking young man with him to enter.

  “Stewart.” Loretta stood and embraced the young man who made her son feel alive. Something she was just beginning to understand. The last ti
me she’d been in the young man’s company had been the day of Harold’s memorial. He’d looked tormented then. Of course, he would have been worried. “I cannot thank you both enough for coming here tonight.”

  And then she looked over at Thomas. She thanked him with her eyes. She could not speak to him in front of others. Her emotions seemed too fresh, too raw to do so. And he might turn her away after all.

  But she would take a chance. She would risk her pride.

  The four of them shared more of the food and tea until at last everything that could be said that night had been said.

  Stewart rose with a look in Harold’s direction. “I think we had best take our leave.” Thinking of the two of them together, as romantic partners, had seemed so very odd and wrong to Loretta, but tonight, hearing the tenderness and caring in his voice for her son, it seemed perfectly natural.

  Harold rose as did Thomas and then Loretta. “Your grace.” Stewart bowed over her hand, and then Harold stepped forward.

  “Don’t worry for me, Mother. I’ll write to Findlay, here, so that he can pass my correspondence along.” And then he embraced her. “I want you to be happy, Mama.” He choked slightly on his whispered sentiment. “For me.”

  Loretta swallowed hard. “I will. I promise. And then she clasped his hand one last time. She did not want to release him. It might be years, or perhaps another lifetime before she saw him again. “I love you.” She said the words aloud before even thinking to catch them. “Be safe. Be happy. Both of you.”

  She knew more tears would come, but she would hold them back until after they’d left. She did not want his last sight of her to be an unhappy one.

  She and Thomas followed them out the door and watched them climb onto the two mounts that waited nearby.

  She smiled with as much courage as she could muster. “Happy Christmas!”

  “Happy Christmas!” They both wished her back, almost as though in one voice, and then in the blink of an eye, they rode away down the narrow lane. She stood watching, not even aware that she was without her wrap, until they disappeared.

  “Come inside, Duchess.” Thomas touched her arm tentatively. “You’ll catch your death out here.”