A Bride for Christmas (Sweet Regency Novella)

by Aileen Fish

  "Would you have allowed your wife to accompany you into battle?"

  "I always assumed the woman I would marry would know her place and not even consider such a thing. If she had particular nursing skills I might have considered it."

  He continued to think, and walked a few paces away before turning back. Looking out at the treetops over the garden wall, he searched for his deepest thoughts. "I would not have married while I served, even had I found a woman who suited. Leaving my mother and sisters to mourn me was enough; I didn't need a wife and children left behind if I died."

  Lady Julianna showed little expression as she studied him. Not the usual polite, pleasant smile, but a smaller, understanding softness to her mouth. "I think many men waited to marry until the war ended."

  "But some men were married when the war began, and I can't judge them their choices. The women who accompanied us provided a great service to many of the men. Some even remained when their husbands were killed, and on occasion remarried."

  He noted a slight lifting of one of Lady Julianna's eyebrows and shook his head. "I'm not speaking of the light-skirts, who were always to be found nearby. No, I refer to the ones who cooked, mended, washed the laundry. A few in our company were rather motherly to the younger men."

  "I imagine it is a comfort to have the gentler sex among your numbers after a battle."

  At times he would have agreed. But not after Toulouse. Or rather, not after the laudanum had worn off and he'd heard the full details of the days leading up to that advent. "Even they couldn't ease what I felt after hearing Napoleon had surrendered."

  "Weren't you joyous that the war had ended?"

  "The war should have ended before that battle began. I can't give back the lives of those men I killed that day." He raked his fingers through his hair, remembering the feel of blood on his hands.

  "But you didn't know. No one knew."

  He offered her a wry smile. "Those words ease my mind, but nothing can cleanse my soul."

  "Please don't think that. It's an entire world I could never comprehend. I'm not certain I would wish to fully do so. But I wondered about the shadows that come over you at times."

  Nash drew in a deep breath, and then smiled from his heart. "They are passing melancholies, nothing to concern you. But I thank you for that concern." He offered a slight bow.

  She stood, adjusted her pelisse, then closed the small space between them. "I can't call it concern, as I knew you would recover your humor. I simply couldn't comprehend what haunted you so. And at some point I came to feel as if, by understanding it, I could take it from you."

  Her words, spoken softly but assuredly, hit him like no declaration of fondness ever would. A small bit of the ice he carried inside him melted. If he stood closer, would he be able to melt it all? She drew him like a brightly burning hearth. Tempted him as no woman ever had. The desires he'd felt for the women he'd slept with in the past were merely shallow urges in comparison.

  A kiss from Lady Julianna would never be enough. He struggled against the longing to take her into a small room somewhere, or even the garden shed, and run his hands over her bare skin.

  Suddenly recalling his entire family, and hers, roamed the walls of the house behind them, he offered his arm before he could offer anything more. "I've kept you outside much too long. You must be quite cold. Shall we go inside?"

  Chapter Seven

  Julianna stood to one side of the drawing room awaiting instruction. Lady Renford, list in hand, directed the house servants where to hang the fresh greenery they had brought inside for the New Year celebration. Julianna couldn't understand what was wrong with the garlands put up before Christmas, but it wasn't her place to question the countess.

  "Now, you girls come." Lady Renford waved a hand urging Julianna and the other three young women to attend her.

  Marianne sat beside her mother on the chaise. "I thought only the family would be in attendance tonight, Mama."

  "Nonetheless, we shall have a celebration. Your father offered for my hand forty years past on New Year's Eve. The night is most special to me." She continued to detail the dinner and entertainments they would enjoy.

  While the sentiment was sweet, it couldn't distract Julianna from her own thoughts. Her feelings for Mr. Sinclair were changing so quickly, she feared she should leave Renford Abbey as soon as possible. No longer did she believe she might fall in love with him. There was no might in question. With each day and each moment spent in conversation, he proved he was exactly the sort of man with whom she could happily spend her days.

  How pleasant life would be laughing beside him, teaching their children to see joy in every moment. She would never have imagined spending her days in such a manner.

  Which only proved why she must leave before he spoke to her.

  She was not suited to a life answering to her husband's demands. No, that was too harsh. Mr. Sinclair would never make demands. But a man of his sort should have expectations of a wife, and she knew herself incapable of meeting them.

  All her life, she had thought of herself first. Her needs, her wishes. Her very inability to consider others first had told her she shouldn't marry. In a sense, she was putting the sensibilities of her beaux first in not marrying them. She simply would not make a good wife.

  Mr. Sinclair deserved the best wife he could find. A woman always willing to please her husband. He possessed such a good heart and fine mind. He should have a marriage like his father, to a woman who'd celebrate the anniversary of their betrothal.

  Clemmie's voice in Julianna's ear pulled her back into the activity around her. "What occupies your thoughts so deeply?"

  "Oh, nothing of great import. I'm merely wondering how Aunt Phillips is faring. I think two months is too long for me to be away."

  Clemmie took her arm and led her from the others. "Somehow, I imagine our aunt is not foremost in your mind."

  "Perhaps it is all the activity here. We live such a simple life in Lyminster."

  "You went to balls and assemblies every night for weeks on end during the Season not three years past. You cannot insist you've become a retiring spinster so quickly."

  No, she couldn't, even though she didn't miss the parties and people and gaiety. "I find I've grown quite content with the quiet company of our aunt's friends. And I've a few friends of my own among the young ladies there."

  "You've had a touch of the blue devils ever since Edward was born. Have you changed your thoughts about your future?"

  Julianna sighed. "No, I am still resolute to remain single. It's for the best."

  "The best for whom? Surely Aunt Phillips is the only one benefitting from this choice. I don't see you traveling or writing your novels." Clemmie picked up some paper snowflakes and ribbons and handed a few to Julianna. They began to string them for hanging.

  Keeping her voice low, Julianna asked, "Is it silly to wish for such things, sister?"

  "I don't think so. No more silly than any of the things we dreamed of as young ladies. What makes you ask?"

  "I've had the oddest notions these past weeks. Before Edward was born, the idea of heirs and estates was as foreign to me as manufacturing woolens or sitting in the House of Lords. Important and necessary, but not my concern."

  Clemmie grinned. "I'm relieved you didn't relate them to emptying chamber pots."

  The sisters laughed, then made certain the other women weren't listening. "I'd hoped the making of an heir was a more pleasant process."

  Clemmie blushed and glanced away. "Enough so to make me suggest you should reconsider remaining unmarried."

  "Should I? I'm not sure I agree. If I were to discover I'm not suited to traveling abroad, I can simply return home. But what if I found I'm not suited to being a wife?"

  <>

  Nash stood behind Evie's chair in the parlor with the family gathered around. Everyone's attention was on the clock, watching as the stroke of midnight neared. His father held a tankard of wassail, although the others held more
respectable drinking vessels of the liquid.

  When the clock began to strike, Father called out to the footman stationed at the entry. "Throw open the doors!" And thus they welcomed in the New Year.

  Father raised his tankard. "To new beginnings, a clean slate."

  Nash raised his glass and smiled at Lady Julianna as he did. To new beginnings. The best part about cracking open a new novel was getting to know the characters within. He felt the same about Lady Julianna. Discovering her quirks, her likes and passions was a grand adventure. He only hoped they ended up on the same page when the adventure was done.

  At Mother's suggestion, Evie went to the pianoforte to play. Nash turned the pages for her and sang in harmony. Their voices suited so well, he wished he'd had more time to visit as she grew up. The wars had stolen much of his life, or made it drastically different from that shared by the rest of his family.

  But that was behind him, and a new year stretched out before him.

  When another voice joined them in The Last Rose of Summer, Nash realized Lady Julianna had come to stand on the other side of Evie. Lady Julianna's soprano was clearer than his sister's, and blended perfectly with his own tenor. She smiled when her eyes met his. He stumbled over the words for a moment, then quickly turned the page for Evie.

  When the song was finished, Marianne came to play a duet with Evie. Nash offered Lady Julianna his arm and walked casually away from the others. "Happy New Year."

  "And to you."

  "When we were young, we used to make a wish for a goal we hoped to reach in the next year."

  "Did they often come true?"

  "Geoff's did, because he usually wished for something he could obtain. Marianne's tended towards a more magical, lofty dream she'd no hope of reaching, such as being able to fly."

  "And you, Mr. Sinclair? What types of goals did you wish upon yourself?"

  "I was a dullard. I wished to master Latin, or finally shoot Keith, the old buck in the woods."

  "Keith. You called a buck Keith?"

  Nash debated walking to the fire, but instead came to a stop not too far from where his brother and a few others played cards. "The gamekeeper called him that. I never asked why. We just called what we heard."

  "I see. And did you ever shoot this buck? I cannot call him by name when I ask, for it sounds too much like killing a friend."

  "You'll be pleased to know he lived to a ripe old age. The gamekeeper found him dead one winter. The rack of antlers hangs over the hearth in the hunting lodge in honor of the buck who outwitted us for so long."

  "Well, then." Lady Julianna dropped his arm and faced him. "Did you wish for something tonight?"

  "I did." He took a deep breath and carefully considered his words. "I wished I may be happily married before the end of the year."

  Her eyelids lowered for a moment, then she again met his gaze. "And is this a goal you feel is obtainable?"

  Nash wanted to take her hand in his, but was afraid she'd flee like a deer with any sudden movement. He was fully aware of how skittish Lady Julianna was about the subject at hand. He had six more days in which to show her how perfectly they suited. Six more days to convince her she could easily love him as he was beginning to love her. Best to play this coyly. "The married part is quite easily achieved, even for a younger son. It's the 'happily' part that will take some work."

  Tilting her head in that way of hers, she asked, "You believe it takes work to be happy? Shouldn't it simply arise naturally from the situation?"

  "It should, exactly. Thus the need for work—I must work to assure I marry a woman with whom I'm capable of being happy."

  She nodded.

  He withdrew the small scroll he'd secreted in his pocket and held it out. Lady Julianna took it, looking at him questioningly. "Open it," he said.

  She loosened the ribbon and opened the scroll, then gasped. "How lovely."

  Nash leaned over to view it again. "It's a Chinese dragon. They often have dragons in their New Year's celebrations, although their year begins on a different day. The dragon symbolizes good luck. I wish you have nothing but good luck in your life."

  Lady Julianna smiled. "Thank you. I'm certain your dragon shall bring me the best of luck."

  Realizing his family was probably placing bets at the direction of their private conversation, Nash offered his arm again and they continued to circle the room.

  He had a strong feeling this would be the luckiest of years for both of them.

  <>

  Two days later, Geoff caught him as he returned from his morning ride. "You're awake early, brother," Nash called.

  "No, simply out in this miserable cold. With young children one is always about this early."

  Nash handed Caesar's reins to the groom and dusted the sleeves of his greatcoat. "And what brings you outdoors at this hour?"

  "I came to speak to you. About Lady Julianna."

  "I see. Are you going to question my intentions like a good brother?"

  Geoff grabbed his sleeve, pulling him to a stop. "Do I need to? We discussed this before. Yet you continue to have private conversations with her, and offer her gifts. What are you about?"

  "I'm about fed up with your interference, Geoff. I have done nothing disrespectful. Has the lady complained to her sister?"

  "Well, no."

  "Has her mother requested your assistance in a graceful removal of my person?"

  "Of course not. And before you ask, her father would come after you himself if he felt the need. My concern is for both of you. Lady Julianna does not desire a husband. She is truly happy with her life as it is. If you divert her heart into an infatuation she mightn't recognize it as such, and might make a choice she later regrets."

  Nash could see the love in his brother's eyes, which was the only reason he listened in silence. Geoff had both his and Lady Julianna's best interests in mind.

  "I wish you all the peace and happiness a man can obtain, Nash. But I wish it for the rest of your life. I asked once that you to be certain of your heart before making her fall for you. Now I ask you to go slowly enough that Lady Julianna will know her own."

  "And how long will that be? Do you believe her to be of simple mind and unable to know herself? The lady has had ample years in the marriage mart to fully understand how she feels when speaking with most gentlemen. If she recognizes a difference in her happiness when with me, do you not think her intelligent enough to know if it will be a lasting feeling?"

  Geoff ran his gloved fingers through his hair and tugged his hat back on. "You are right. She's not a silly chit, she's an intelligent young lady. So that is your plan then? To marry Lady Julianna?"

  "If she will have me. I intend to make her the best of husbands."

  "I won't question how you can be so certain in so short a time. You always made your choices with little deliberation and were pleased with the outcome."

  Nash chuckled. "There was many a night I lay on damp blankets in a wet fog listening to the moans of injured comrades where I would have argued that point. But I never questioned the battlefield was where I belonged."

  Geoff slapped him on the back as they resumed walking up the path away from the stables. "There will be times in your marriage you'll feel the same."

  Chapter Eight

  The entire household had been in a flurry with last minute preparations on the morning of Twelfth Night. Lady Renford might be an elegant hostess, but only after much excitement and direction so that every detail was performed to her exact demand. Hoping to escape the chaos, Julianna slipped quietly up the back stairs to find her niece.

  She knew from the behavior of the older children that something special was afoot, but the twins ran out of the nursery before she could ask. The governess was trying to herd all the children before taking them down to the parlor where the festivities were being held.

  Little Julie rushed to give her a hug. She wore a pristine white gown slightly too large for her small frame, and had a wreath of ribbons and dried fl
owers pinned atop her flowing golden curls. Julianna toyed with the dangling end of a ribbon. "You look so pretty!"

  "I'm a princess," she answered with a slight lisp.

  "Are you participating in the charades today?"

  The little girl nodded. At that moment, the governess called the child to join the others, and she steered them out into the hall.

  With nothing else to do but join them, Julianna took up the rear of the line of marching children and followed them into the parlor. The arriving neighbors mingled about, adding even more children running about and increasing the hubbub. It was a happy noise, she realized. More laughter than words of cheer.

  Working her way through the visitors, she found Clemmie and Evie calming Lady Renford. "All is ready, Mama," Evie said, patting her mother's shoulder. "Marianne has the Twelfth Night cards in a bowl and will let them be drawn after the children's entertainment."

  "And Cook has the King's Cakes on platters to be brought up after the rest of the foods. It will be a wonderful evening, Lady Renford." Clemmie smiled at her sister as she led her mother-in-law to a chair.

  "Nash has the children ready to perform as soon as we are able to quiet the guests," Evie added. "You rest now, we'll see to everything."

  They walked away from the older woman and Clemmie pointed. "Evie, you see that the older guests have chairs to sit in. Julianna, please guide all the children to sit in this area, and their parents can have the benches."

  Between the three young ladies, they brought the crowd under control, or to a hushed murmur, which continued until Nash walked out onto the area marked as the stage. He was so regal with his proud military stance, in his dark green coat and wheat-colored waistcoat. The audience grew quiet in anticipation.

  "Welcome everyone. Before the dancing begins, we have some entertainments for you to enjoy. First, my cousins Lady Beatrice and Lady Cassandra will perform a medley of Irish tunes." He bowed and exited as the two young ladies, neither of whom could be sixteen yet, sat at the pianoforte. The music was quite pleasant, their voices well suited to the lilting songs. Next, another cousin played Beethoven on his violin, although Julianna couldn't have named the piece upon hearing it. Still, it was an earnest effort and the audience clapped appreciatively.