A Hero for Christmas

The normally prattling Mme. Dupont said very little during the rest of the fitting. Catherine was equally quiet, abiding without comment the inadvertent prick of the pins as Mme. Dupont checked the seams and adjusted them. Finally she was done. She gathered her supplies and left, saying that she had all she needed for finishing Catherine’s gown and would be back on the morrow for a fitting with Sophia.

Catherine dropped onto the chaise longue by her sister’s biggest window and leaned her arm against her forehead in an exaggerated pose. “I’m not sure how much longer I can endure Mme. Dupont’s attention.”

With a laugh, Sophia pushed Catherine’s arm away from her head. She sat beside the chaise longue. “She said she was finished with you.”

“On one gown only. Once you are satisfied with your wedding gown, her attention will be fully on me again.” She sat up. “Really, Sophia, I don’t need a complete new wardrobe for this short trip up to London.”

“Short?”

Catherine looked away from her sister’s abrupt frown, as she scolded herself for speaking without thinking. “Sophia, you warned me that time goes quickly during the Season with all its events and calls.”

“True.” Her sister’s smile returned. “I want everything to be perfect for you. I have noticed Mme. Dupont annoys you. With the promise of more work, she will be on her best behavior.”

“I appreciate that.”

“You are doing so much for me. How could I not do something for you?”

Catherine embraced her sister. Dear Sophia always took such good care of her! It would be so different once her sister married and moved to live with her husband at Northbridge Castle in the south of England. For the first time, other than Sophia’s own abbreviated Season, the two sisters would be apart. Catherine realized how lonely it would be without having her sister to turn to. Vera would be nearby as would Cousin Edmund, but it was not the same.

And, also for the first time, Catherine could not be completely honest with her sister. If she told Sophia her fears, her sister would urge her to pray and seek guidance. That only worked if God listened to her prayers, and He had not in more than a year since her father’s death. Even before. He had not seemed to heed her pleas for Roland to return safe from the war.

Catherine must continue on the path she had chosen. Once she fulfilled her promise to Roland and visited the Elgin Marbles, she would come home with the sketches she had made of the ancient figures, knowing that she had done the best she could to honor the memory of the only man she had ever loved. She hoped then that her heart would begin to heal. She was certain she would never risk it enduring such pain ever again.

* * *

“Am I late?” asked Cousin Edmund as he entered the small parlor where Sophia had arranged for hot chocolate and cakes to be brought that afternoon for him and her sister.

“Right on time.” Catherine folded her hands on the pale blue of her gown as she smiled at her cousin.

When he had first arrived at Meriweather Hall in the autumn to claim the property that had come to him with his title, so many, including Catherine, had assumed he would offer for her sister. That way, the late lord’s family would not lose their home to a stranger. Shortly after Sophia had announced her betrothal to Cousin Edmund’s good friend, he had told Catherine that he doubted he would be a good match for either of the late baron’s daughters. Catherine had appreciated his honesty, and their uneasy relationship had developed into a friendship.

“I was pleased to get your invitation,” Cousin Edmund said. “After the bad experiences your sister and I first had with strained conversations during tea, I doubted either of you would ask me again.”

Catherine smiled as she motioned toward the tray. “Hot chocolate.”

“Let’s see if I do better with hot chocolate.” He sat facing her and took the cup she held out to him. “I knew winters are fiercer in North Yorkshire than in the midlands, but I guess I didn’t realize how much colder until now.”

“And the winter solstice is still weeks away.”

“We must make sure there is a lot of cocoa in the house then.”

Catherine laughed with him. When he asked how the plans were going for the Christmas Eve ball, she gave him noncommittal answers. She did not want to ask him to stop trying to help, because he was making her more work, nor did she want to admit that she was overwhelmed by the tasks.

“Alfred told me that a suitable log has been found for our Yule log.” Cousin Edmund reached for a cake. “I have forgotten to tell Sophia how much I appreciate her recommendation for Alfred to assume his late father’s duties as gamekeeper. Please remind me to tell her.”

“If I don’t forget...”

He took a bite of the cake, then set the rest on the plate by his half-emptied cup. “I know you have a lot on your mind right now. Was there something in particular you wanted to discuss with me?”

“Yes.” She decided to be forthright. “I wanted to talk to you about Mr. Bradby.”

“Is there a problem?” His easy smile fell away, and she caught a hint of the man who had been such a good leader on the battlefield. Now he was ready to leap to the defense of his friend.

“I wouldn’t call it a problem. I am baffled by something that happened today.”

“Him jumping in to save a boy when there were fishermen ready to go to the rescue?” His good humor returned. “That’s Bradby. Always ready to be the hero.”

“But when I praised his efforts, he gave me a look that could have frozen a fire.”

“What look?”

She described the anger she had never seen in his eyes before, how it had pierced through her, even icier than the sea wind. “But the fury didn’t seem to be aimed at us. It was turned inward.” She looked steadily at her cousin, hoping he had an answer for her. “Cousin Edmund, I knew from the beginning there has to be more to Mr. Bradby than the jester he often portrays. Such a man could not be successful as a solicitor.”

“That intense expression was one that we once were well familiar with.” Cousin Edmund took a sip from his cup and then balanced it on the knee of his black breeches. “We saw it often early on in the war. Bradby has an acute sense of fairness, and when he believed anyone was being treated unfairly, he was ready to do battle.”

“A true Don Quixote.”

“Truer than you may guess. He seemed to break into two parts of the character after the battle where he saved Northbridge’s life. On one hand, he has become like the silly man who believed a downtrodden woman was his queen. On the other, he is willing to joust with windmills, if that is what it takes to do what is right.”

“But what about the anger?”

“It’s always there, simmering behind the laughter.” He put his cup back on the table and clasped her hand between his. “Cousin Catherine, one thing you must know. Whenever Northbridge or I have tried to speak to him about what fires that anger, he has gone mum.”

“As he did today.”

He nodded and sighed. “We learned we must act as if we never saw any sign of what he’s trying to hide.”

Catherine wondered how that was supposed to help their friend, but their plan had worked for more than a year. Even though every instinct warned her not to acquiesce, she nodded. Her cousin and Charles knew him far better than she did. She hoped she was doing the right thing.

* * *

As he walked through Meriweather Hall, Jonathan sneezed once, followed by a second time and then a third. He hoped his beef-headed heroics that morning were not going to leave him with a head cold. That would be the ultimate joke on him and his scheme to be a true hero.

“Bless you,” he heard from the small parlor to his left.

He paused and looked in to see Meriweather and Cat slanting close to one another. Were they holding hands? When they hastily moved apart, Cat busied herself with the tea tray, as if she could not bear to look in his direction.

“See, the conquering hero comes!” crowed Meriweather as he came to his feet and motioned for Jonathan to enter.

Jonathan pretended to find his host’s comment amusing. With a terse laugh, he said, “I didn’t realize you were a fan of Handel’s Judas Maccabaeus.”

“Is that where the quote is from? I had no idea.” He waved toward the table. “Would you like something to warm you after your dip in the sea?”

“There is hot chocolate,” Cat said, standing with the lithe motion that always drew his eyes. “I find it comforting on a winter afternoon. If you would prefer tea, I can ring for it.”

“Hot chocolate sounds perfect.” Jonathan saw the twinkle in Meriweather’s eyes and looked away.

Yes, he had made a fool of himself this morning by diving into the sea when dozens of fishermen were standing by their cobles. He wished everyone would forget the incident. Or were Meriweather’s eyes bright because he had been holding Cat’s hand? That was what Jonathan wanted to forget.