Married By Christmas

‘You would have done better not to come out at all,’ Hal told her sharply. ‘An inn yard is not the right place for a young lady alone—especially at this early hour when few are about.’

‘I dare say you are right,’ Jo said and walked quickly away. She did not dare to look back, though she knew that a heated exchange was going on behind her.

‘Damn you for interfering,’ Carstairs said. ‘I only meant to kiss the girl!’

‘I know what you intended, and a kiss was the least of it,’ Hal said. ‘We are in England now and there is no war—no excuse for that kind of behaviour. I know what occurred at Badajoz and we don’t want that kind of thing happening here.’

‘You can’t blame me for what happened there,’ Carstairs said, but he could not meet Hal’s stern gaze. ‘The men were out of control, driven by bloodlust and the needs of a long campaign.’

‘I blame no one for anything that happened out there,’ Hal said. ‘We were all driven a little mad by it—but that was war. The girl you were molesting is innocent and deserves to be treated with good manners and respect.’

‘Well, no harm was done,’ Carstairs said, giving him an uneasy look, for he knew that he wasn’t up to Hal’s weight and would go down under a hammer blow from him. He would need a pistol in his hand to stand a chance against him. And the time might yet come when he would need it. ‘She has run back to her dragon of an aunt and I dare say that is the last I shall see of her.’

‘Take my hand,’ Hal said. ‘We should not be bad friends over this, Carstairs.’

‘Come to the mill with us,’ Carstairs invited again as he took Hal’s hand in a show of friendship that was not felt. ‘I can promise you a good time.’

‘Thank you, but I was on my way,’ Hal said. ‘Perhaps we shall meet in town?’

‘Yes, perhaps,’ Carstairs said, an angry glint in his eyes as he watched Hal walk away. Arrogant devil! Beverley and his clique had always thought themselves above everyone else—but that hadn’t saved Matt Beverley from breaking his neck in a fall from his horse. A fall that might just have had a little assistance…‘And perhaps you may meet with a similar fate to your brother’s one day, my fine fellow.’

Jo glanced round the Pump Room, sighing as she saw that almost everyone was of her aunt’s age. This was the fourth time they had been here in a week, and she was finding it tedious, but at least they were to attend the Assembly that evening, where she hoped at last to meet some young people.

‘I think I shall bathe,’ Lady Wainwright announced suddenly, surprising Jo out of her reverie. ‘There is no need for you to stay, Josephine. You may visit the library or do some shopping if you wish. I shall take my nuncheon here and we shall meet for tea at home.’

‘Thank you, Aunt,’ Jo said feeling grateful that she was not required to accompany her aunt into the baths. ‘I hope you enjoy your bathing.’

‘It is not a matter of enjoyment,’ Lady Wainwright told her. ‘I am doing this for my health.’

‘Yes, Aunt,’ Jo said. ‘Is there anything I may fetch you from the shops?’

‘Yes, I should like half a pound of peppermint creams from the teashop near the library. Make sure they give you fresh stock and not something that has been tucked away under the counter for weeks.’

‘Yes, Aunt. I shall ask for fresh.’

Jo made her escape before her aunt could change her mind. It was only rarely that she was allowed to go off on her own, though she had managed to join a ladies’ debating circle and had attended their weekly meeting. Her aunt had allowed it because one of her friends had suggested that Jo might like to join, and had entertained Lady Wainwright while Jo was visiting a house just a few doors away. It was a treat to have the freedom to do as she wished for most of the day.

She lingered to look in a few of the fashionable shop windows, admiring the expensive items on display, but was not tempted to buy anything. Her aunt had seen that she had an adequate wardrobe for their visit, and Jo thought that the two bonnets she and Marianne had made were equally as stylish as anything that could be bought in the milliner’s. One shop had a display of gold and silver articles, and a little silver box caught her eye, because it had a singing bird that popped up when it was opened and sang a tune. She had seen one like it at the house of Lady Eccles, who was here for her health like Aunt Wainwright. She had admired it when she was shown how it worked, and thought that, if she could have afforded it, she would have loved to buy one for Lucy. She had spent only a few shillings from the purse Lady Edgeworthy had pressed on her before she left. If she had sufficient when it was time to return to Sawlebridge, she might ask the price of the fascinating trinket.

As she turned away from the window, she almost collided with a gentleman. He grabbed her arm to steady her, and she found herself gazing up into his face as she thanked him, the words dying on her lips as she saw that he was looking at her very boldly, his dark eyes warm with laughter, his mouth curving wickedly at the corners. For a moment she had the oddest notion that he wanted to kiss her, and her eyes widened in surprise, because it was the man she had seen gazing at the moon—the same one that had saved her from a rough handling by that other one in the inn yard.

‘Forgive me. I was not thinking…’ Jo’s cheeks flushed, for she was a little embarrassed because of what had happened at the inn, but he did not seem to recall it—he was behaving as if they had never met before. ‘I am sorry.’

‘Take care, sweeting,’ he said. ‘I might have knocked you down and I should have been grievously sorry for that—indeed, I should never have forgiven myself.’

‘It would have been my own fault, sir,’ Jo said. She stepped back and he let go of her arm. She decided that she would follow his lead. Perhaps he had already forgotten her. ‘I was thinking of my sister, Lucy, and how much she would like that singing bird in the window and I did not realise that you were there.’

‘Ah, yes, a pretty trinket,’ the man said glancing into the shop window. ‘Is your sister partial to trinkets of that kind?’

‘She has never had such a thing,’ Jo replied. ‘But she is a dreamer, a romantic, and I think she would love it, but I am afraid it may be too expensive.’

‘Yes, I dare say. Perhaps she has a birthday soon? Shall I buy it for her to make up for startling you?’

‘Oh, no!’ Jo was mortified. What kind of a girl did he think she was? ‘I could never accept…What an extraordinary thing to ask! How could I possibly accept such a gift from a stranger?’

‘How can we be strangers?’ he said a wicked twinkle in his eye. ‘I already know that you have a delightful sister called Lucy, and I am sure we could soon know each other better, if you would permit me to buy you some…hot chocolate, perhaps?’ His eyes were filled with devilment, a challenge that she found confusing.

‘Sir! I think you must have mistaken me for…’ Jo was torn between outrage and astonishment. ‘I am a perfectly respectable person! What happened that morning at the inn was not of my making, I do assure you.’

Hal looked thoughtful. He had not immediately recognised her, for she had acquired a little town bronze over the past few days, and his mind had been occupied elsewhere. He had merely been flirting gently with a pretty girl. Seeing the outrage in her face, he was suddenly overcome by a wicked desire to tease her, to see how far she would go.

‘Oh, yes, I am very sure of it,’ he said and she saw that he was laughing inside. ‘Perfectly respectable, if a little reckless. But Carstairs is a brute and a fool. If I spoke harshly to you then, I am sorry. My anger was for him, not you. You are a lady of quality and deserve respect. You are also irresistible when your eyes take fire. I feel that I have always known you, though not your name—for you have not given it to me. Mine is Hal Beverley, should you wish to know it.’

Jo gave him a straight look. ‘Are you inebriated, sir?’

His laughter shocked her, because it was so honest and appealing. ‘It is a question that is often asked. My father says that I am an irreverent rascal, but I assure you that my offer was made in good faith. You have a sister who would love a pretty trinket and I have money in my pocket—but forgive me if I have offended your sense of propriety.’

‘No, you have not,’ Jo said and surprised herself. ‘Do you know, that is exactly what Papa might have done had he been able to afford it. He often gave his sixpences to the village children.’

‘Perhaps another day we shall talk again,’ he said and tipped his hat to her. ‘Excuse me now, I must go, for I am already late for an appointment. Take care and watch where you tread. I should be most distressed if harm were to come to you.’

‘Yes, I shall…’Jo watched as he walked away. His hair was very dark brown and he had such bold eyes—just like the wicked earl in the story she was writing. She smiled—she had written of just such a meeting in her story only that morning.

Jo shook her head. She must not let her imagination run wild—that was for her stories, not for everyday life. She walked on, tired of window-shopping. She must hurry, for she was not perfectly sure what time the library closed. Jo paused to cross the road, waiting for a dray wagon drawn by four magnificent chestnut horses to pass by. A woman had just come out of the library; as Jo watched, she gave a little sigh and collapsed on to the pavement.

Jo hurried across the road now that it was clear and knelt down beside her, feeling for a pulse, which was still beating strongly. Even as she wondered what she ought to do, the woman moaned again and opened her eyes.

‘Oh, I must have fainted,’ she said. ‘Forgive me, but could you help me to get up?’

‘Yes, of course,’ Jo said offering her hand. The woman took it and pulled on her as she struggled to stand up. As she did so, her shawl fell from her shoulders and Jo saw that she was quite obviously carrying a child. She retrieved the shawl and placed it about the woman’s shoulders. ‘Are you still feeling a little unwell?’

‘Just a little,’ the woman replied in a faint voice. ‘If I could sit down for a few minutes…’

‘Let us go into the teashop.’ Jo said and offered her arm. ‘Lean on me and we shall drink a dish of tea together—and perhaps a cake, if you feel able?’

‘Yes, that would be nice,’ the woman said. ‘I was in a hurry to come out this morning and did not eat anything. I believe that may be the reason for my faintness.’

‘Yes, I dare say,’ Jo said. ‘You really ought to eat properly in your condition, ma’am.’ She had noticed the wedding ring on the woman’s left hand. ‘Would you like me to fetch someone for you—your husband, perhaps?’

For a moment her eyes were dark with pain. ‘My husband is dead and there is no one else. I am forced to fend for myself, and that is why I was in such a hurry this morning. I am working as a seamstress from home, and I had promised to deliver some embroidery I had finished to one of the shops here. I ought to have gone straight home afterwards, but I wanted to look for a book in the library. Let me introduce myself—my name is Ellen Beverley.’

‘I am very sorry to hear about your husband,’ Jo said. She had found a table for them by the window and they sat down. ‘It must be awful for you, especially in your condition.’

Ellen placed a hand on her swollen belly and smiled. ‘Oh, no,’ she said. ‘Matt’s child is a joy to me. Had it not been for the baby, I think I might have given way to despair when he died, but I had to live for my child’s sake—because my husband would have expected it of me. He was a brave, kind man, and I shall love his child as I loved him.’

‘Yes, of course,’ Jo said. She had wondered for a brief moment if she might be related to the man she had met briefly outside the jeweller’s that morning. His name was also Beverley, but it was clearly not so—Ellen had said she was alone. Her name was simply a coincidence. ‘But is there no one who could help you?’

‘I ran away to marry the man I loved,’ Ellen told her with a wistful look. ‘My parents disapproved and so did his—but we loved each other and there was never any question of giving each other up. We had almost a year of complete happiness, but now…’ She sighed and shook her head.