Married By Christmas

‘Sir, I think you like to tease for devilment.’

‘Indeed, I do, Miss Horne—but only when the company is this charming.’

‘You are wicked, sir!’

‘You are right to chastise me. It is a fault.’ His eyes were warm with amusement. ‘Are you not shopping today?’

‘I am on my way to visit a friend. Perhaps the same one as you have been visiting?’

‘Indeed? Yes, it may be if you speak of Ellen. I called to see her for a few minutes and she said she hoped to see you later. I must not delay you, for I know she looks forward to your visit. Perhaps we shall meet again this evening?’

‘Yes, perhaps.’ Jo smiled, her heart beating rapidly as she walked on. She hoped that she would see him again soon, for he was a very pleasant young man. Arriving at Ellen’s lodgings, she rang the bell firmly, waiting until her friend answered the door and invited her in.

‘I was wondering whether you might come,’ Ellen said, looking pleased. ‘I hoped you might, because I wanted to tell you that I have sent the letter to my mother. Just to let her know that I am well.’

‘I am sure that is all she needs to know,’ Jo said. She considered Ellen, who was not as pale as she had been the first time they met. ‘Are you feeling better now?’

‘Oh, yes, I keep quite well most of the time,’ Ellen said and placed a hand on her bump, smiling contentedly. ‘It is a comfort to know that I have at least two friends now. Hal was here a few minutes ago.’

‘Yes, I met him on my way here. It must be better, knowing that your husband’s brother is there if you need him.’ Jo followed her into the small but comfortable parlour. Ellen had been working at her embroidery and a panel of blue silk lay on the sofa. She moved it to one side and sat down.

‘Hal was always a little wild when we were in Spain,’ Ellen said and laughed softly. ‘Matt used to say he was the maddest prankster of them all—but they were good friends, and I am grateful that he took the trouble to look for me. He has even been as far as Amsterdam in his search, though I was never there, of course. It is odd how these tales get about, is it not?’

‘Mr Beverley seems very pleasant,’ Jo said thoughtfully. ‘We met last evening at a friend’s house, and he asked me to dance a waltz with him. He dances very well.’

‘Oh, yes, all Old Hooky’s favourite officers did,’ Ellen said with a wistful expression in her eyes. ‘They were an elite corps, Jo—young and dashing, brave and clever. The very best of the English aristocrats, a breed apart, I think. We had some good times as well as the bad ones.’

‘You must miss all your friends?’

‘Yes, I do,’ Ellen agreed. ‘I was lonely until I met you—and then, on the same day, Hal came, and I am not lonely any more.’

‘But it is so unfair that you have had to fend for yourself,’ Jo said, a flash of anger in her eyes. ‘Lord Beverley should be ashamed of himself. If your child is a boy, he will be the heir to the estate.’

‘Yes, in law, perhaps,’ Ellen said, ‘for I believe the estate was entailed—but I should never demand my rights. Besides, Hal told me that his father’s health is uncertain. He has not told him that he was looking for me, nor will he tell him that he has found me—at least until the baby is born. He thinks that a grandchild may mellow Lord Beverley, and if Hal makes the kind of marriage his father asks of him…’

‘Yes, I see,’ Jo said. ‘I suppose Lord Beverly will expect him to marry an heiress or the daughter of landed gentry?’

‘Oh, yes, I imagine so. My grandfather was in trade, though Father had bought land and was what they call a warm man—but that was not enough for him.’ Ellen looked sad. ‘I know it hurt Matt to be estranged from his father, but it was Lord Beverley’s own fault.’

‘Yes, indeed it was,’ Jo agreed. ‘Well, we must hope that he will relent in time, because it would be so much nicer for you to have your own home and enough money to live on.’

‘Hal has offered that,’ Ellen told her. ‘But I have refused him, at least for the moment. If I cannot manage, I shall ask for help. It may be more difficult to work when I have a child.’

‘Yes, I expect so,’ Jo said. She sipped her tea. ‘I have been working with the ladies of the church community. There is to be a bazaar next weekend and I have been asked to help with the preparations, and on the cake stall…though I must ask Aunt Wainwright about that, for she may not allow it.’

Ellen nodded her understanding. ‘She may not think it quite proper for her niece, because of course there will be persons of all sorts there on that day, I imagine.’

‘If you mean there will be poor folk, ordinary women, working men and their children, I am sure you are right. I always used to help Papa at home—he considered it was good for his daughters to see how other people lived. We were fortunate, because we always had food on the table, and we often gave some of it to beggars who came to our door. He would say that it was my duty to help, but Aunt Wainwright may wish me to accompany her somewhere.’

‘Well, you must ask her,’ Ellen said and frowned. ‘Does she know you visit me here?’

‘Oh, yes,’ Jo said airily, because she would not offend her friend by telling her she was keeping her visits a secret for the most part. ‘I think I should be going now. I shall come again as soon as I—’ They heard the doorknocker at that moment and Ellen went to answer it. Jo pulled on her York tan gloves and picked up her reticule. Hearing the voice in the hall, she hesitated, her heart thumping madly of a sudden.

She stood waiting as the door from the hall opened and a gentleman followed Ellen into the small parlour. He looked at her, his eyes quizzing her in that bold way of his and she smiled.

‘I was just about to leave, sir,’ she said. ‘I must not be late back or my aunt will worry.’

‘Oh, must you go so soon?’ Hal asked and frowned. ‘I hope it is not on my account. I had thought of something I wanted to tell Ellen, but I can leave and return later if you have not finished your gossiping.’

‘We were not gossiping,’ Jo said. She had a feeling that his return was an excuse to see her again, but she told herself she was being foolish. He was almost engaged to Chloe! Besides, he would never think of her in that way. ‘It was merely a discussion of the activities concerning the church bazaar next weekend. I have been helping with the preparations.’

‘Have you, indeed? How industrious of you,’ Hal said, a glimmer of laughter in his eyes. ‘Most young ladies would find something more pleasurable to employ their time while in Bath, I imagine.’

‘Oh, I have time enough for all I want to do,’ Jo told him, a spark of defiance in her eyes. ‘I assure you, I prefer to be busy rather than to sit idle—and one meets friends.’

‘Yes, I dare say,’ Hal said a hint of devilment about him. ‘Tell me, Miss Horne—are you given to good works?’

‘Papa taught us to consider others,’ Jo said. ‘Marianne and I used to make lots of clothes for the poor children in our village. There were always offcuts that could be used for something, and she was a marvel at cutting a pattern from the odd bits of cloth. We wasted nothing at the Vicarage.’

‘The Vicarage…yes, your father was a parson, I believe.’ Hal frowned, looking at her thoughtfully. Her name had seemed oddly familiar from the first. Something had been hovering at the back of his mind, but he had not put two and two together until this moment. ‘Drew married a girl called Marianne Horne and her father was a parson…’ He stared at her incredulously. ‘Can it be? I recall that you told me your elder sister had been recently married…did she by chance marry Drew Marlbeck?’

‘Yes? Why do you ask?’ Jo stared at him in bewilderment.

‘Drew is a friend,’ Hal said. ‘He sent me an invitation and I should have been at the wedding had my father not been taken ill at that time.’

‘Oh…’ Jo nodded ‘…how odd that we should meet in Bath—but there, it is a small world, they say. I am sorry your father was ill. Is he recovered now?’

‘He is very much better than he was, of course, but his health is not good. I believe it may be his heart, though he speaks of his illness as a slight turn and dislikes a fuss.’

‘That is a worry for you,’ Jo said. She wrinkled her smooth brow. ‘Do you not think it might be a comfort to him to know that Ellen is to have your brother’s child, sir?’

‘It might,’ Hal agreed. ‘If broken to him gently, it might well give him something to live for…but I think it best to keep it a secret until the child is born.’

‘I do not see why,’ Jo said, anxious to defend what she saw as Ellen’s rights. ‘Surely any right-thinking man would want to help his son’s widow at such a time? Indeed, it must be his duty to his son’s wife and unborn child—do you not agree?’

‘Please do not,’ Ellen said and threw her a look of appeal. ‘I have no intention of approaching Lord Beverley for anything. I shall manage very well as I am—but if he wishes to see his grandchild when he or she is born, he will always be welcome in my home.’

‘I believe he may relent when he sees the babe,’ Hal said, but looked thoughtful. ‘It is not right that Ellen should still be working in her condition, but I am here if she needs me.’

‘Well, I must leave,’ Jo said, reluctantly tearing herself away. ‘I dare say you have things to discuss. No, do not come to the door with me, Ellen. I can see myself out.’

‘Then I shall accompany you, Miss Horne. For I may return later to speak to Ellen.’

Jo looked at him uncertainly, but he seemed determined to accompany her. They walked in silence for a moment.

‘I mean to call at the library, sir. I do not think that you can wish to visit it yourself.’

‘Do you not think me bookish?’ His eyes quizzed her. ‘You wrong me, Miss Horne. I can sometimes sit for an hour or so at a time with a good book.’