Miss Fitzwilliam's Christmas Redemption

by Lydia Pembroke

  “Thank you, Mr Timmins. You are too kind.” With his help, she could not fail in making Cordelia’s Ball a night for Ruth to remember.

  Chapter Twelve

  Over the next few days, Letitia visited the shop often. The gown remained there, in the back room where she could work in peace. Percy was always there to help, holding the gown while she pinned it and fitted the new fabric into position. She had come to look forward to their time together, his presence forever welcome, and his company always generous and comforting. Indeed, he had gone so far as to give her some rather expensive glass beads to embellish the neckline, each one sparkling and glinting beautifully in the light. They would look particularly pretty against Ruth’s pale complexion.

  By the time Saturday arrived, the dress was complete. It had been sewn to Ruth’s measurements, and the ruching had been added, whilst newly embroidered vines graced the bodice, complete with the bottle-green shade of the glass beads. Once it was done, Letitia stepped back and admired her handiwork, with Mr Timmins standing beside her.

  “You have done an exquisite job,” he praised, flashing her a smile. “I have never seen a gown more beautiful, not even at the Balls of the London elite. Indeed, it would put Bothwell’s creations to shame, I am certain of it.”

  Letitia flushed with delight.

  “You think so?”

  “I think it is a shame that you will not be the one wearing it,” he confessed tentatively, dropping his gaze for a fleeting moment. “Your friend is fortunate indeed, to have an acquaintance such as yourself. It is a kind thing you are doing, and I am certain she will be more than grateful.” Tears began to trickle down her cheeks, falling unbidden from her eyes. “Have I said something wrong, Miss Fitzwilliam?” Mr Timmins asked, panicked.

  She shook her head. “No, it is only that I know how happy this will make Ruth. And she will look so glorious in it. I cannot help but weep, for she is so deserving of happiness, and I pray that this may be the means by which she gains such joy.”

  “I am in awe of you, Miss Fitzwilliam,” he said softly.

  “Of me?”

  She blushed, giving him a shy smile.

  “Your dedication and your work is wonderful, and your nature is even more admirable,” he replied. “My grandfather thinks so, as well. He guessed who the gown was for, after your arrival the other day, and he has commended you highly. We both think it is the most gracious gift, and that you are the most gracious of young ladies.”

  “I do not know about that,” she said quietly. “However, I have enjoyed my time here, with yourself and your grandfather. He is wise beyond any education I have been given, and his designs are timeless. It has been my greatest pleasure to be here over the festive season, and I hope my stay may last some weeks more.”

  “As do I, Miss Fitzwilliam,” he admitted.

  They looked at one another in uncertain silence, Letitia’s mind racing. She realised that she had been happy here for the last few days, with no thoughts of the ton or of Phillip Gillingham. Indeed, she had quite forgotten all the former unpleasantness whilst in the company of Percy Timmins and his grandfather, though it had mostly been due to the warm manner of the former. They were encouraging and kind, admiring her bonnet ideas and the additions to the gown. She had already added some very elegant touches to the bonnets they already had in the window, transforming them from pretty and practical to exquisite and practical. Many had already sold, with more orders being placed each day.

  “I ought to be getting back,” Letitia said, her voice catching in her throat.

  Her heart fluttered in her chest, her gaze unable to hold Mr Timmins’ for fear of her cheeks reddening. Every time she looked upon him, she found herself unable to focus properly.

  “May I escort you?” Mr Timmins asked. “Evening is drawing in and, though it is not far, I should hate for you to walk alone in the gathering darkness. Not to mention the fact that you have precious cargo to take with you.”

  He eyed the emerald gown.

  “I should like that very much,” she said, as she folded away the embellished dress and set the lid back on the box.

  A few moments later, they exited the shop and walked back towards Hardcastle House. They strolled in companionable silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Now and again, Letitia caught him stealing a glance at her.

  Now and again, he caught her doing the same thing, each of them smiling secretly with the discovery of furtive looks. More than anything, Letitia realised that she was doing something worthwhile, for the first time in her life - and she owed that, in no small part, to the man standing beside her. He had made her vision possible, and she was eternally grateful for that. She only hoped that Ruth would find her happiness because of it. That was something she wanted more than anything.

  ~~~~~

  A knock at the door made Letitia turn, her heart pounding with excitement.

  “Come in,” she called, already knowing who stood on the other side. Ruth peered around the threshold, a frown upon her brow.

  “You sent for me, Letitia?”

  “I did.”

  She stood in front of the box on the bed, hiding it from Ruth’s sight.

  “Is something the matter? Did you want some assistance with your hair for the Ball tonight? Only, I am not very good at it. You would be far better off asking one of the others,” Ruth said nervously.

  “I have a gift for you,” Letitia replied.

  “The alterations are complete?” Ruth asked excitedly.

  She nodded. “Yes, they are quite finished.”

  “May I see them?”

  Letitia turned and picked up the box, before handing it to Ruth. She took it gratefully and laid it on the nearby bureau, removing the lid with the giddiness of a small child. Her face morphed into a mask of utter shock as she removed the emerald-green gown from the box and held it against herself, turning to Letitia with an expression of confusion.

  “This is your gown, Ruth,” Letitia said. “I pray it may bring you good fortune, for green is known to be a lucky colour.”

  Ruth shook her head.

  “No, Letitia, this is too much. I cannot accept.”

  “It is your dress, Ruth. There is nothing to accept or refuse. It is yours.”

  “I… I am speechless, Letitia. You have done this for me?”

  “You deserve to look your finest this evening, Ruth. Now, allow me to help you, and then we may set to work on your hair,” Letitia encouraged.

  “I do not know what to say,” Ruth gasped.

  “Say that you will wear it well, and then I shall be satisfied.”

  A nervous smile turned up the corners of Ruth’s lips.

  “I will wear it well, Letitia. I will wear it with gratitude in my heart. Thank you, Letitia. Thank you so much. You have no idea what this means to me. I cannot even attempt to put it into words.”

  “You do not need to, my friend. Your smile says it all.”

  Two hours later, Ruth was ready for the Ball.

  The dress suited her even better than Letitia could have hoped, the shape fitting her perfectly, and the ruching accentuating her womanly figure.

  With her hair curled and coiffed, she looked more regal and refined than any titled lady, her long neck swan-like, her amber-green eyes striking against the colour of the gown. Letitia was positively bursting with excitement, for Ruth would stun everyone with her beauty.

  “Now, you must remain here until the Ball begins,” Letitia said. “This must be a surprise to everyone, Robert Tanner included. Looking like this, he will not be able to ignore you.”

  Ruth grinned nervously.

  “Do you think so?”

  “I know so. Indeed, I would not be surprised if you had ten offers of marriage by the time the night is over,” she said merrily, as she crossed to the wardrobe and took out her coral gown.

  As she dressed, with Ruth’s help, she instructed her new friend on the ways of high-society, teaching her some brief lessons in etiquette, soc
ial conversation, and the subtle art of flirting. The young woman was already an accomplished dancer, and with the gown giving her confidence, there was no way that Ruth could fail.

  “Merry Christmas, Ruth,” Letitia said, glancing at her friend’s reflection in the mirror.

  “Merry Christmas, Letitia,” she replied, with a smile so bright it put the moon to shame.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Hardcastle House was abuzz with excitement, as the residents of Upper Nettlefold, all those not attending the Duke of Kilmerstan’s Ball, began to arrive. Cordelia had excelled herself, employing extra staff from out of town to serve drinks and food, giving all the girls the night off to enjoy the party as guests.

  From her bedchamber window, Letitia watched the carriages pull up to the front of the house, with a flurry of vibrantly dressed ladies and elegant gentlemen entering the building.

  Letitia peered out of her bedchamber door a few minutes later, and overheard the thrilled shrieks of the other girls, who had gathered on the landing. They were watching the hallway below, their eyes fixed on the young men who were arriving. Everyone had been invited to the soirée, and Cordelia had made good on her promise to have all of the eligible bachelors in the town present. That night, there would be ample opportunity for the girls of Hardcastle House to dance, converse, and even draw the affections of these local gentlemen.

  Perhaps, even love would ignite for some of them.

  Her mind drifted towards thoughts of Mr. Percy Timmins, and his steady smile. His eyes were twinkly and enchanting, and she could not push them from her thoughts. It had been such a long time since she had allowed herself to forget about Phillip Gillingham, and Percy had been the cause. When she thought of him, she found there was no room for Phillip.

  Letitia waited for the other girls to go down into the lower part of the house, where the drawing room, the guests’ parlour and the morning room had been opened up into one big ballroom, before gesturing to Ruth.

  “We must go now,” she urged, taking her friend by the hand, and leading her out into the hallway. Together, they descended the stairs, eliciting gasps from all those who waited in the entrance hall. Letitia knew that all eyes were on Ruth, and she did not mind one bit. As long as one man looked at only her, she would be quite content for the rest of the evening.

  I hope you will come here tonight, Percy… that shall be my Christmas miracle.

  As they walked through to the ballroom, murmurs of admiration followed them. Letitia caught sight of Agnes and Cordelia standing beside one another, with expressions of warm surprise on their faces. It was evident that they knew who was responsible for Ruth’s transformation, and they appeared to approve.

  Indeed, they had barely been in the ballroom for ten minutes before a young man stepped up to Ruth and asked her to dance. Within the hour, her card was full, whilst Letitia’s remained empty.

  She did not wish to dance that night, not unless Percy appeared. She had learned not to give her heart away too swiftly, and she vowed to keep to that. Only a truly worthy gentleman would entice her to dance, but he was not yet here.

  “You seem anxious, Letitia,” Agnes remarked, as she moved to stand beside her niece.

  “Not anxious, Aunt. I am merely eager to see Ruth enjoy herself,” she replied, looking for her friend amongst the crowd.

  To her delight, Ruth stood in front of Robert Tanner, the two of them deep in conversation. The gown had worked its magic — Ruth Hampson was no longer invisible to the eyes of Robert Tanner. And, in truth, judging by the way he was glancing adoringly at her, she had never been invisible to his gaze. They were both as shy as each other, or so it appeared.

  “And what about you? Are you not intending to enjoy yourself?” Agnes asked.

  Letitia smiled. “I am content to watch awhile.”

  “You did that for her, did you not?”

  “It was my Christmas gift.”

  Agnes frowned. “A rather expensive one, at that.”

  “You think I should not have gifted her the gown?”

  Agnes chuckled.

  “I am somewhat proud of you for doing what you have done, though you might have selected a less expensive gown. She would have looked equally pretty in the lavender muslin, which was half the price.”

  “I did not know you had such knowledge on the price of fabrics, Aunt,” she teased, sipping her goblet of champagne.

  “I know a great many things that would surprise you, Letitia,” she shot back, though Letitia knew that her aunt approved of the gift she had given.

  Pride bristled from her, an amused smile upon her lips. None of this would have been possible if Agnes had not brought her to Upper Nettlefold, and for that she was glad. Indeed, coming here had been the best thing that had happened to her all year.

  ~~~~~

  Two hours later, Letitia had lost some of her good feeling. The evening had been intended for Ruth to shine, and she was glad that her friend was continuing to do so. However, Percy had not arrived, and she felt his absence keenly. Whilst the other girls danced and laughed and were merry in their pretty gowns, she remained on the sidelines, feeling slightly bereft of festive cheer. She knew that she should not feel downhearted, for Ruth was happy and enjoying the attentions of Robert, but part of her longed for a slice of her own joy.

  “I have something of a headache, Aunt,” she announced. “I may retire to my bedchamber for a while.”

  “As you wish, Letitia.”

  Excusing herself, Letitia went through the house. However, instead of veering off towards the main staircase, she took a left and made her way outside instead. She grasped a woollen blanket from one of the storage cupboards, and wrapped it around herself before stepping out into the bitter night.

  The sky was clear, revealing an expanse of glittering stars and a silvery moon that shone down with frosty light. A short distance away, she heard the chattering babble of the Nettlerush River, which ran across, below the gardens at the back of the house.

  It was peaceful here, with nothing but fields in the distance. Drawing the blanket tighter around herself, she walked down to the riverbank and closed her eyes, listening to the rush of water. For the first time in a week, she found herself pining for her home in St. Alban’s. She wondered what her family were doing at that moment, safe within their countryside manor. She missed them dearly. And for what?

  My actions were not worth the loss that came after. Phillip Gillingham was hardly worth a sliver of my love, and yet everything tumbled down because of him.

  How she wished she could change that night, where she had spoken alone with Phillip and allowed him to kiss her. Even with no engagement to Edward, which she found she no longer desired, she would have been allowed to stay at her home, without disgrace or shame plaguing her.

  “I wish you a Merry Christmas,” she murmured to the still night air, praying it carried all the way to her family.

  She hoped they were thinking of her, too.

  “You should not be out here alone,” a voice spoke, startling her.

  She whirled around to see a shadow approaching. Her heart pounded violently, fear spiking through her veins as the figure drew nearer. At last, a shaft of moonlight caught his features, revealing Percy Timmins in the flesh.

  “I could not endure the noise and the heat,” she explained, pulling the blanket closer.

  “I am not one for Balls myself,” he admitted, with a wry laugh. “I have been attempting to enter the house for the past half-an-hour, but I decided to walk awhile instead. I really do not like the crowds that are present at such events, but I could not have stayed away.”

  She frowned.

  “Why not?”

  “Because you are here,” he said simply.

  “You came here… for me?”

  He nodded shyly.

  “My grandfather suggested that I ought to, though I had already planned to be in attendance. I suppose I hoped that my presence might be welcomed by you, though I should hate to make
assumptions in that regard.”

  “I have been looking for you ever since the Ball began,” she confessed, dropping her chin to her chest. “I feared you would not come.”

  “Do you know, when I saw you in your aunt’s shop, I thought you were the most remarkable creature I had ever laid eyes upon,” he said quietly. “There was something in your half-smile that enchanted me, and a sadness in your eyes that I could not forget. I confess, I have thought of you often since that day, though I never hoped that I would see you again.”

  She looked at him in surprise, her heart swelling.

  “You thought of me?”

  He nodded. “That bonnet you so admired in the window display — it is named the Letitia, in your honour. I designed it after our meeting. You inspired me to make bonnets of colour and vibrancy, in-keeping with the glimpse of your character that I had seen. I suppose you became my muse, if you do not mind me confessing as much.”

  “Why should I mind?”

  “I do not want to appear too intense, Miss Fitzwilliam.”

  “I have had enough of watered-down affections to last me a lifetime, Mr. Timmins,” she replied, with a soft laugh. “Intensity should be a rather pleasant change of pace.”

  “Might I dance with you?” he asked shyly.

  “Inside?”

  He shook his head. “We can hear the music from here, if you would oblige me?”

  With her pulse racing, she closed the gap between them. With the faint music of the orchestra chiming out into the wintry world beyond Hardcastle House’s warmth, they began to move in perfect synchronicity. They stepped around one another, and pressed palm-to-palm, in time with the rhythm of the tune. Letitia began to giggle as they imagined other dancers, turning, and twisting around invisible partners, before coming back together in the centre of the gardens, observed only by the last blooms of the winter roses.