Married By Christmas

Jo inclined her head, but made no comment as he led her back to where her aunt was standing with Mrs Marsham and two other ladies. She thanked him, watching thoughtfully as he walked from the room.

Chloe came back to join them. ‘Has Mr Beverley gone already?’ she said looking disappointed. ‘We danced the first two dances, but I had hoped we might dance again later.’

‘I believe he had another appointment,’ Jo said. ‘But he must have come simply to dance with you, Chloe.’

‘Oh…’ Chloe blushed and looked pleased. ‘Yes, perhaps he did.’

Jo understood that she had hopes of Mr Beverley asking her to marry him. She knew nothing about him other than that he seemed to have an irreverent sense of humour, which she liked, and was extremely attractive. She supposed he must come from a good family, though she did not like to ask.

It had crossed her mind that he might be in some way related to Ellen’s late husband, but naturally she had not asked him. He might consider it impertinent, and, besides, she knew that Ellen did not wish it to be known that she was at present residing in Bath. However, she would ask Ellen when she next saw her if Mr Hal Beverley was in anyway related, for it seemed to her that if it were so he might do something to help her.

Lady Wainwright had decided that bathing had done her a great deal of good and she graciously told Jo that she might leave her after they had reached the Baths and go to the library or visit friends.

‘But on no account are you to be late for tea, Jo. I shall be most displeased if you let me down again. I cannot help you to make friends if you behave in such a shockingly careless manner.’

‘I know that it was very bad of me,’ Jo admitted. ‘I promise I shall not be late again.’

After leaving her aunt, she went first to the little teashop and bought some peppermint creams, which were packed in a pretty little box and tied with ribbon. Jo visited the library next and took out two books, one a novel and one on embroidery that she thought Ellen might like to see. She had also bought a smaller box of violet creams as a little gift for her friend, and was feeling pleased with herself as she made her way to Mrs Beverley’s lodgings.

As she reached the top of the slope leading to the house, a gentleman came out of Ellen’s house and turned away in the opposite direction. Jo stood watching him for a moment. She could not be sure, but thought it might have been Mr Hal Beverley. Perhaps he had discovered that Ellen was in Bath for himself.

Ellen answered the doorbell almost at once. Jo could tell from the look on her face that something momentous had happened, and she was pleased for her friend.

‘Oh, I am so glad you have called,’ Ellen told her. ‘I have some news to tell you.’

‘Exciting news?’

‘Yes, I think so. I have just received a visit from my husband’s brother Hal. He served in Spain at the same time as Matt, at least for a few months, and we knew each other. He says that he has been looking for me and wants to help me.’

‘Oh, Ellen, that is good news,’ Jo said. ‘Did you not think of asking him for help before this?’

‘No, for why should he take on the burden of my expenses?’ Ellen said. ‘I dare say I might have approached Lord Beverley if he had not been so set against the marriage, but Hal has his own expenses. I told him that I should be grateful for his help in practical ways, but for the moment I have sufficient funds to pay my way.’

‘And what did he say to that?’ Jo frowned, for in her opinion Mr Beverley should have ignored Ellen’s scruples and given her a handsome present so that she had no need to work so hard.

‘He said that I was to think of him as a friend and as my husband’s brother. He was angry that his father had done nothing for me, and indeed, he says that he regrets it, but we must keep our meetings a secret for the moment, because Lord Beverley might be angry or upset by them. I believe his father might disown him as he did Matt, and it is very brave of Hal to risk so much for my sake.’

‘Lord Beverley sounds disagreeable,’ Jo said and pulled a face. ‘I think it was very unfair of him to disown his son—and to treat you so harshly.’

‘Hal was angry about it, but says that his father has been unwell for some months and because of that he does not wish to quarrel with him. He has independent means and does not care so much for the estate—but he does care for his father.’

‘Yes, I see,’ Jo said and looked thoughtful. ‘I do not like Aunt Wainwright very much, but I must admit that I should not want to see her ill—and I should be distressed if I were the cause of that illness.’

‘I understand his feelings completely,’ Ellen said. ‘Matt always hoped that he might settle his differences with his father one day. Hal is very good to search for me, and I should turn to him if I needed help, but I prefer not to accept charity unless I need it. I shall continue to use my married name to which I am entitled, but I shall not mention the connection to Lord Beverley—and the name is otherwise common enough.’ She smiled at Jo. ‘Have you come to take your nuncheon with me?’

‘I must not be late for tea this afternoon. My aunt scolded me yesterday. I do not mind that—but she is paying for my visit here and she bought me some very nice clothes, so I must not disoblige her.’

‘Well, we shall eat a light nuncheon and then you may leave,’ Ellen said. ‘I want you to look at some embroidery I am doing for a client. She saw some of my work at a fashionable shop in town and asked for me to work on her ballgown. She will be eighteen next month and is to have a special dance, I am told.’

Jo looked at a panel of exquisite embroidery that Ellen was working on, feeling amazed at both the beauty and intricacy of the design and the skilled workmanship.

‘Oh, this is wonderful,’ she said. ‘You are so clever, Ellen. Who taught you to do something like this?’

‘I am self-taught,’ Ellen said looking pleased. ‘My governess taught me the rudiments of the art, of course, and I begged my father to buy me books about it. He was pleased to do it, for he thought embroidery a ladylike occupation. He would not be so pleased if he knew that I was using my skill to earn my living.’

‘It is such a shame that you are estranged from your family,’ Jo said. ‘Did you make up your mind to write to your mama?’

‘Yes, I have written her a few lines,’ Ellen confirmed. ‘Just to tell her that my husband is dead and that I am with child and quite well. I gave her no forwarding address—and I intend to send my letter today.’

‘I am sure she will be relieved to have it,’ Jo said and smiled at her. ‘I took out a book for you from the library, but I think you are too advanced for it. I shall take it home and study it myself. I am ashamed to say that I could not produce anything even half as fine as this panel.’

Ellen laughed softly. ‘I studied for years, Jo. I was not particularly happy at home, for my father is a cold man, and Mama is afraid to displease him. When Matt came into my life it changed so much…I can never regret what I did, even though I lost him too soon.’

‘I am glad that you were so happy,’ Jo said. ‘I have never been sure that real love existed—not the very romantic kind that you read about in books—but Marianne fell in love with her marquis, and you obviously loved your husband very much.’

‘Yes, I did,’ Ellen said. ‘You may think my story tragic, but I would rather have had a year with Matt than a score of years with a man I did not love.’

Jo nodded and looked thoughtful. She was beginning to think that perhaps true love really did happen to the fortunate few.

‘Ah, there you are, my dear,’ Aunt Wainwright said and gave Jo a nod of approval as she walked into the parlour at half-past two that afternoon. ‘I am glad you are back. You must go up and change, put on one of your prettiest gowns and tidy that hair.’

‘Yes, Aunt,’ Jo said and placed the small box of peppermint creams on the table beside her. ‘I have been assured that they are very fresh.’

‘But to buy them in a box like that,’ her aunt said and frowned. ‘So extravagant! A paper twist would have been adequate.’

‘I bought them as a gift for you, to thank you for your generosity towards me,’ Jo said, giving her a straight look. ‘I shall go up and change now.’

‘Do not be long. We have a visitor I particularly want you to meet, Jo.’

Jo nodded, but made no reply. She noticed her aunt staring rather oddly at the box of sweets as she left the room.

As she changed out of her walking dress into a silk afternoon gown in a pale green colour, the skirt flounced but otherwise quite plain apart from a sash of darker green, Jo was thinking about what Ellen had told her concerning Hal Beverley. It seemed that he was an exceedingly generous man—as indeed she had known before, for she believed that his offer to buy her sister the singing bird had been made genuinely and with no thought of reward.

She thought that of late her wicked earl had stepped out of character, and was becoming a true gentleman, for she could no longer write of him as she had in the past, and must think of a way to redeem him in her novel.

The idea of changing her story so radically entertained her thoughts until she went downstairs. She heard voices coming from her aunt’s drawing room and her heart beat rapidly for a moment, wondering if the caller might be Mr Beverley, but as she entered she discovered that their visitor was unknown to her.

‘Ah, Jo, my dear, how delightful you look,’ Aunt Wainwright said. ‘You must come and meet the Reverend Mr Thomas Browne. Sir, this is my niece, Miss Josephine Horne, of whom I have already told you.’

‘Mr Browne,’ Jo said, coming forward. She held out her hand to him and smiled, for she was prepared to be welcoming to anyone who followed her papa’s calling. ‘I am very pleased to meet you, sir.’

‘And I you, Miss Horne. I am a little acquainted with Lady Wainwright, and when I spoke to her of my difficulty, she was kind enough to say that she thought you might be willing to help.’

‘If it is possible,’ Jo replied. ‘But I am not acquainted with your difficulty, sir—in what way would you like me to help you?’

‘Oh, I thought…but no matter. I am holding various fundraising events this coming week, and I need a helper. The lady who was to have performed certain little tasks—helping to make banners, write notices, and assisting with a bring-and-buy stall at the church hall—is unwell and finds herself unable to help as she usually does.’

‘Oh, yes, of course I shall be pleased to help you, Mr Browne—if my aunt permits. I must not neglect her, but otherwise I should enjoy being of assistance to you.’