The Christmas Card: The perfect heartwarming novel for Christmas from the Sunday Times bestseller

Alice moved swiftly to her mother’s side, placing her arm around Beth’s trembling shoulders. ‘Leave Mama out of this, Aunt Jane.’

Jane tossed her head. ‘I have only this to say to you, Alice Radcliffe. Agree to marry my cousin or leave this house and make your own way in the world. It’s your choice.’

Chapter Four (#u5d6aa649-01a1-5bd6-b9ba-aeb3f5e1665a)

Reluctantly, and only because of her mother’s weakened state of health, Alice agreed to consider Horace’s proposal should he pluck up the courage to make her an offer of marriage. She had no intention of accepting him, but until she could earn enough to support her mother and herself they would have to rely on Aunt Jane’s charity. The future looked bleak, but Alice Radcliffe was not one to give in without a fight. She went to bed in the cold, cheerless room with the precious Christmas card tucked beneath her pillow. To anyone else it might be just a piece of paper, but to her it was a symbol of family, love and security. No one could take away what was in her heart, not even Aunt Jane.

The child who greeted Alice next morning was totally different from the angry little girl of yesterday. Flora was up and dressed and had even made an effort to drag a comb through her tousled mop of hair.

She gave Alice a wide smile. ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t come.’

‘Why would you think that? I made a promise and I always keep my promises.’

‘Most grown-up people don’t,’ Flora said darkly. ‘They’ll say anything to keep me quiet, and then they go away and forget about me.’

Alice took the comb from her hand and began teasing out the tangles. ‘Well, I’m not like that, Flora.’

‘And will we still go outside and play snowballs?’

‘Yes, of course.’

‘And decorate the tree?’

‘Yes, if your mama permits.’

‘She will or I’ll have a tantrum and scream until I make myself ill, or else I’ll hold my breath until I go blue in the face. That usually works.’

Alice shook her head. ‘I think we might be able to persuade her without you endangering your own life. We’ll try, shall we?’

‘Oh, all right,’ Flora said reluctantly. ‘Do we have to wait until after breakfast? I’m not really hungry.’

‘We don’t want to upset Cook, especially as she’ll be very busy with preparations for tomorrow. Can you imagine what it must be like to work in a hot kitchen?’

Flora put her head on one side, frowning. ‘No. I’m not allowed below stairs.’

‘Then perhaps we ought to visit the kitchens, and you can see how the servants have to live and work.’

‘Mama wouldn’t like it, but I would.’ Flora snatched the comb from Alice’s hand. ‘Shall we go now?’

‘Maybe later, but I think I hear Nettie coming with our breakfast. Don’t forget to thank her.’

‘Thank her? She’s a servant. We don’t thank them.’

‘Well, we do now,’ Alice said firmly. ‘I’m a servant in this house and you thank me.’

‘You’re different. I like you.’

‘And I like you too.’ Alice heard the rattling of china as Nettie struggled outside the door and she moved quickly to open it for her. ‘Good morning, Nettie,’ she said cheerfully.

‘Good morning, miss.’ Nettie shuffled over to the table and put the tray down with a clatter, spilling some of the milk from the blue-and-white china jug.

‘Thank you, Nettie,’ Alice said, nodding to Flora.

‘Thank you,’ Flora echoed, although she did not sound very convincing.

Nettie shot her a sideways glance. ‘I’m sorry I spilled the milk, but me chilblains are playing up this morning. You won’t tell on me, will you, miss?’

Flora shrugged. ‘I’ll throw the jug across the room, if you like. They expect me to do things like that.’

Nettie’s horrified expression made it hard for Alice to keep a straight face. She patted her on the shoulder. ‘Miss Flora is teasing you.’

‘Yes, miss.’ Nettie backed towards the door, opened it and fled.

‘Well done, Flora,’ Alice said, smiling. ‘You see, you can be nice when you put your mind to it. When Nettie gets over her shock she’ll be really grateful.’

Later, after what to Alice was now a magnificent breakfast of porridge, toast and strawberry jam, they put on their outdoor clothes and were making their way downstairs when Mrs Upton waylaid them outside the drawing room.

‘Where do you think you’re going, Miss Radcliffe?’

Flora’s small fingers tightened around Alice’s hand. ‘She’s taking me to play snowballs in the square gardens.’

‘Indeed she is not.’ Mrs Upton stood arms akimbo, glaring at Alice. ‘Miss Flora is not allowed outside unless accompanied by a responsible person.’

Alice drew herself up to her full height. ‘Flora is in my charge and I’ll see that she comes to no harm.’

‘That isn’t good enough. Miss Flora can be very persuasive when she wants to be and we’ve had incidences.’ Mrs Upton seized Flora by the shoulders and propelled her towards the staircase. ‘It’s back to the nursery for you, miss. Your mama will send word when she wishes to see you.’

‘But this is so unfair,’ Alice protested angrily. ‘I promised her that we could go out into the gardens and play snowballs. She’s just a child, Mrs Upton. I’ll keep an eye on her.’

Flora stamped her foot. ‘It’s always the same. They all hate me and want me to be miserable.’ She threw herself down on the floor, drumming her feet and screaming.

‘Now see what you’ve done.’ Mrs Upton spoke through clenched teeth. ‘She’ll make herself ill and we’ll have to send for the doctor.’

‘Why?’ Alice demanded, raising her voice to make herself heard above Flora’s screeching. ‘Why do you want to keep the child prisoner in her own home? Surely a breath of fresh air and some healthy exercise would do her more good than being shut up in the nursery?’

Mrs Upton drew her aside. ‘She has tried to run away several times. Keeping her under strict supervision is the only way to protect her from herself.’

Ignoring her, Alice went down on her knees beside Flora. ‘Stop this at once. This sort of conduct won’t get you anywhere.’

Flora quietened for a moment, eyeing her warily. ‘You’re supposed to be my friend.’

‘I am your friend, but if you continue like this you’ll only make things worse for yourself.’ Alice rose to her feet, holding her hand out to Flora. ‘Get up.’

‘Do as Miss Radcliffe says, Miss Flora.’ Mrs Upton’s voice shook with barely controlled anger. ‘Your mama will hear about this.’

Flora’s answer was to go into a fresh tantrum, sobbing and beating her fists on the floorboards.

‘What is going on?’ Lydia Dearborn leaned over the banister. Tendrils of fair hair escaped from beneath the goffered frill of her linen nightcap and she clutched her wrap around her. ‘Why is Flora dressed for outdoors? I gave explicit instructions that she was not to be allowed out of the house, Mrs Upton.’