There had been no mention of marriage. He had never actually said he would come and find her. Those had been assumptions.
I love you, lass.
He had meant it, then, she was sure. But now, when they were apart, and back in the real world with all its pressures and truths? Maybe there was another woman waiting for him at home in Scotland. Maybe his father did not approve of his son marrying a widow or thought she was not good enough for an earl’s son, even though hers was one of the oldest and richest families in England. Maybe... There were so many possibilities. And the truth was she knew so little of his life, just as he knew so little of hers. Foolish as a green girl, she had thought love would be enough.
She tried to put him from her mind, but everywhere she looked were reminders. It snowed and she thought of their Christmas challenge aboard the Angel. On Boxing Day the family exchanged gifts and, amidst all the squeals and excitement of her nieces, Daniel was in her thoughts. He was there in the red-breasted robin darting through the hedges as she accompanied her brother and his family on a visit to old friends. And every time they sang the Christmas hymns in the church. And there was a bigger reminder than all of those. One of which she was not entirely sure yet, but just the prospect of which made her pray all the more that he would come for her. Because she knew what she was going to have to do if he did not...and it did not involve scouring the country for a man who did not want her.
But as the days passed and still she heard nothing from Daniel, the old insecurities came back to haunt her.
Sarah stopped looking for his letter. She ceased listening for the thud of his horse’s hooves, or the creak of his carriage wheels through the snow. Daniel might love her, but what was love to men? He might love her, but he wasn’t coming for her. What had been between them had ended with their journey. If she found him, if she told him, he would marry her. Out of duty. Out of necessity. Not because he wanted to. And, because she loved him, that knowledge would kill her. Better a man she hated than that.
He was a naval sea captain who had chosen a life without her.
And because of her recent discovery, she was a woman who was going to have to return to New York and marry a man she did not want to marry.
* * *
It was the last day of the year when her brother took her out riding alone.
The sky was a cloudless blue and bright with pale sunshine that glittered on the snow that still dusted the fields all around. The air was fresh and smelled of earth and winter. Blackbirds scurried beneath bushes. She turned her eyes away from the robin that sat in the bare brown boughs serenading their progress along the country lane.
‘What happened between you and Captain Alexander, Sarah?’
‘Nothing happened.’ She kept her eyes straight ahead to hide the lie.
The horses ambled on at their slow steady pace, but she could feel by the way her brother was looking at her that he was not fooled.
‘Perhaps I should find Captain Alexander and ask him the same question.’
‘Don’t you dare!’ Her eyes shot to his.
His expression remained impassive. ‘You are no longer wearing your mourning weeds or wedding band.’
‘It means nothing.’
‘I am not a fool, Sarah. I see how unhappy you are beneath the smile.’
‘Don’t.’ She squeezed her eyes shut to prevent the tears that prickled there. ‘Please, Thomas.’
‘Did he seduce you?’
She let the question hang in the air before looking squarely at her brother. ‘I seduced him.’
She saw the shock that flared there. ‘Good God, Sarah!’
‘You have a scandalous sister.’ Possibly more scandalous than he realised. And in her heart she prayed that it was so.
‘I could contact him. I have friends in London who could—’
‘No.’ She swallowed back the emotion that threatened too near the surface. ‘I will be leaving for New York at the end of next week.’
‘I thought you said you did not wish to return to America.’
‘Change of plan.’
‘If you think it is for the best.’
‘Most definitely.’ She forced a smile and cracked a joke to hide the truth. ‘Do not worry, I will not seduce anyone on the return journey.’ The smile faded. She glanced down at the leather reins held loosely between her gloved fingers. ‘There is a gentleman in New York who has proposed marriage.’
‘You could stay here, with us.’
‘No, Thomas.’ She met his eyes. ‘For the sake of all our reputations, I do not think that I can.’
They looked at one another for a moment.
‘Oh, Sarah,’ he said softly.
The horses walked on in silence.
* * *
The children were long in bed. Sarah, Thomas, and his wife Anne, sat in the drawing room of Bowden House, each with a glass of warm mulled wine, watching the hands of the clock on the mantel approach midnight. Soon the old year would pass and a new one begin—one that would take Sarah back to New York and a lie. But it was as Daniel Alexander had said, sometimes lies had to be told for the best of reasons. To protect and defend—those that you loved...and those that were innocent.
The clock struck twelve and from down in the village the church bells pealed, ringing out the old year and welcoming in the new.
Sarah took a breath and did the same. Turned her back on a past she would never forget or regret and faced her future.
‘Happy New Year, Sis.’ Thomas made the toast and Sarah responded.
‘Happy New Year, Thomas...Anne.’ She chinked their glasses with her own. ‘May it be a good one for us all.’ But she saw the glance that Anne shot Thomas and knew that her brother had told his wife.
The last chime was still echoing in the air when the knocker sounded against the front door.
‘Who on earth comes visiting in the first minute of the New Year?’ Thomas frowned.
Sarah felt the blood rush from her head. Her fingers gripped so tight to the stem of the wine glass that her knuckles shone white.
* * *
Mr Thomas Bowden’s expression was glacial when the maid announced the name of his first caller of the New Year and Daniel stepped into the drawing room.
Sarah’s eyes met Daniel’s and he saw the shock in them before she lowered them to hide it. She looked so pale that he thought she might swoon.
He bowed to Bowden. ‘I am ridden from Scotland to first foot your sister.’ He saw Bowden’s hostile gaze drop to take in his mud-splattered boots and breeches and rise again to the faint beard that stubbled his jaw, before meeting his eyes. ‘If I might be permitted to address her?’
‘About damn time, Captain Alexander.’
‘Thomas!’ Sarah jumped to her feet, knocking over her glass in the process. The deep red of the wine soaked to merge with the red wool of the Turkey rug and the glass rolled away unnoticed.
‘If you would be so kind as to grant Mrs Ellison and me a few minutes alone.’ Daniel was polite enough, but his expression brooked no refusal.
Bowden glared at him as if he wanted to run him through.
‘Thomas, please!’
Bowden’s eyes flicked to his sister, then with a curt nod he and his wife left the room.
The closing of the door echoed in the silence.
Sarah did not move, just stood where she was, with her head held high. ‘Daniel.’
‘Sarah,’ he said softly.
For all her face was a mask of composure he could sense her tension. From his pocket he produced a lump of coal and offered it to her.
She made no move to accept it, so he sat it down on the nearby table.
‘A lump of coal that your hearth shall ne’er be cold.’
From his other pocket he took
a small oil-skin package, and unwrapped it before placing it beside the coal.
‘A black bun that your belly shall ne’er go hungry.’
And then the bottle of whisky that glowed amber in the firelight.
‘And a dram to toast the New Year...and more.’
Her eyes dropped to move over the items he had brought. ‘Daniel...’ He could hear the emotion she was trying to hide.
‘I’m tall and I’m handsome, and in the right light my hair might be construed as dark...’ he raised his eyebrows ‘...and I will bring you good fortune if you will have me as your husband, Sarah Ellison.’
He heard the breath that escaped her, saw the way her eyes clung to his. ‘I thought you were not coming.’ The tears spilled from her eyes.
‘Oh, lass!’ He crossed the room to take her in his arms and capture each precious tear. ‘I am sorry for the delay, but there was something in Glen Affric I had to fetch.’
He kissed her, with tenderness and passion and then looked into her eyes. ‘I brought a few other things with me, from Doctors’ Commons in London...’ He handed her the paper from his pocket.
Sarah opened the special marriage licence.
‘And from Glen Affric.’ He produced the small brown velvet box and opened it to reveal the ring inside. ‘It was my grandmother’s. The gold is from the Lowther Hills in south-west Scotland, the sapphire, from the Isle of Lewis in the Outer Hebrides.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘So, Sarah Ellison, will you have me?’
She nodded. ‘I’ll have you, Daniel Alexander.’
He slid the ring on to the third finger of her left hand and when she had kissed and hugged him she looked into his eyes. ‘I am glad that you came, for more reasons than my love for you.’
‘Oh?’ He looked at her teasingly.
‘There is something I have to tell you. The night I came to your cabin...’ She blushed and hesitated. ‘My monthly course is late. And it is never late...’ She bit her lip and looked at him with worried eyes.
‘I thought that your heart was the best gift a man might receive. Now you give me something to rival it.’
‘I thought that after...I thought you might not...’ She took his hands in her own and looked into his eyes. ‘You do not like Christmas,’ she said by way of quiet explanation.
‘An angel came and healed my heart. You won the challenge, after all, Sarah.’ The tears sprung fresh in her eyes, as he gathered her to him and kissed her. ‘I love you, lass.’
And up in the heavens of the clear winter night, the stars twinkled all the brighter.
* * *
In the quiet of the Bowden Parish Church, on the morning of the second day of 1808, Sarah married her handsome Scottish captain. Eight months later their son, Wee Alex, was born. Christmas and the New Year had brought her true love, a husband and the child she had always dreamt of.
Sometimes the magic of Christmas really did make miracles happen and a heart’s desire come true.
* * * * *
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ISBN-13: 9781460321485
A SPRINKLING OF CHRISTMAS MAGIC
Copyright © 2013 by Harlequin Books S.A.
The publisher acknowledges the copyright holders
of the individual works as follows:
CHRISTMAS CINDERELLA
Copyright © 2013 by Elizabeth Rolls
FINDING FOREVER AT CHRISTMAS
Copyright © 2013 by Nikki Poppen
THE CAPTAIN’S CHRISTMAS ANGEL
Copyright © 2013 by Margaret McPhee
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental. This edition published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
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A Sprinkling of Christmas Magic Page 27