Lady Forsaken Box Set (Books 1 - 5), page 87
The children burst into laughter again, the room filling with the sound.
Neill startled awake, but didn’t cry out in alarm, which was very fortunate because, if he were going to be getting any rest, the babe would have to get used to the noise of all the children nearby.
Vi suspected she and Brock would be spending a great deal of time near her family home at Foldger’s Hall.
She laughed until her sides hurt and all the children had their treats—calming as they focused on stuffing them in their mouths and licking their fingers, enjoying the delicacy.
“Time ta go,” Mrs. Dutton announced, and the children huffed in disagreement. “No arguing from da lot of ye. Ye all need ta wash and dress for later.”
“Merry Christmas, my lady,” Daphne and Abby called. “And to you, my little lord.”
“What about me?” Brock called with mock sadness. “You wound my pride, little ladies.”
They flitted over to him, their pinafores swirling with the movements, each curtsying to Brock. “A very happy Christmastide to you, my lord.”
“And Merry Christmas to you both,” Brock nodded. “Now, be off—the next time I see the pair of you, you will be surrounded by presents.”
They giggled, dipped into another curtsy, and ran from the room, following the rest of the children.
“M’lady.” Mrs. Dutton stood at the door—ready to leave, but looking as if she had more to say.
“Yes?” Vi smiled, hoping to draw the woman back in.
“Thank ye for all ye kindness.”
“This year has not been perfect, but I truly wanted the children’s first Christmas at Foldger’s Hall to be one they’d remember ever more.”
“Not jus’ for this year,” Mrs. Dutton said, averting her eyes. “For all da years. Many a young mighta starved if’n it hadn’t been for ye sponsorship.”
“It filled my heart with joy during a time I didn’t deserve to feel any such thing,” Vi sighed. Brock took the box from her lap and settled Neill back in her arms, knowing what she needed before she did. “It gave me purpose when I was lost.”
“Well, we needed ye more than ye needed us, m’lady. I be see’n ye at supper.” Mrs. Dutton closed the door, leaving only Harold and Ruby with them.
“We should be going, too.” Ruby took Harold’s arm. “Do make sure she rests, my lord.”
It was an odd reversal in roles, Ruby taking care of her—though wasn’t that exactly what she’d been doing for years? Ruby had come to Vi at her greatest time of need, and never did she allow her to lose hope, stop looking to the future, even if that future only consisted of year after year of hard work.
“I will see to it.” Brock stood, clasping Harold on the back. “As long as you see to it that your husband doesn’t sample all the sherry in the house.”
They all laughed, knowing Brock only kept the wine on hand for Harold.
“Merry Christmas, Vi.” Ruby placed a kiss on Neill’s rosy cheek and hugged Vi quickly.
“Merry Christmas, my nearest and dearest.” Vi couldn’t picture her life without Ruby, and in turn, Harold. It would be a sad day, indeed, when they moved from Brock’s townhouse and started a home of their own. A part of her prayed it would be a long time from now. “And to you as well. Please give my apologies to William and your mother. They must think I am the most dreadful of hostesses.”
“They would not dare think that,” Harold bowed slightly. “Mother has been talking of little else than the excitement of Neill’s birth. She says a child born on the Eve of Christmas is a good omen.”
“Is your mother allowed to believe in omens?” Vi chuckled.
“Oh, my father would likely condemn her for her blasphemous utterings, but who would prepare his meals and mend his shirts?” he said in a conspiratorial whisper. “I think we shall call the babe a Christmas miracle. Vicar Jakeston cannot dispute a true Christmas wonder.”
“I agree.” Ruby pulled slightly on Harold’s arm, signaling it was time they depart. “Now, we will leave you to rest.”
“Thank you, both,” Brock called.
The doors clicked shut behind them—and quiet surrounded her, only broken by Neill’s light breathing.
“You seem different…”
Vi turned to the man she’d pledged to love for a lifetime, feeling for the first time she was truly capable of fulfilling that promise. “I certainly feel different.”
“And you look far more stunning for it, my love.”
“Oh, I am sure I look a fright.”
“If it is possible, you look more beautiful today than the day we met!” he confided.
“The day we met?” she quizzed. “You did not even know my name then—and I took to wearing the most atrocious things in your presence.”
“I quite favored your brown sack dress and much too large boots.”
She slapped at him, missing when he stepped back. “You knew?”
“My love, your feet were fairly falling from them!” He held his hands up to ward off her next tap. “And that hideous dress…”
“Oh, you are incorrigible!”
“But, even then, my love was blind.” He leaned down, their faces only an inch apart. “I saw my mate through all the obstacles you threw in my way.”
“Truly?” she sighed.
“Certainly. Did you not see it, too?”
“Yes, I did,” she confessed. She had, but at that time, the heaviness of her history still haunted her, weighing on her every instant; but in this moment—it was gone.
She breathed deeply; realizing the heaviness that had rested on her chest for all these years was gone, as well. She didn’t know when or how it had happened, but something had lifted from her.
It could only be the babe snuggled in her arms.
With new life came a hope for the future. It would never erase her misdeeds of the past, but she had the opportunity to raise him to be confident, caring, and compassionate; unlike his mother’s selfish, petty upbringing.
“He truly is a Christmas miracle. For us all,” she sighed, letting go of the final remnants of her past.
“That he is, my love.” Brock drew her from her chair, wrapping both her and their young in his secure embrace. “But you will always be my greatest gift.”
Chapter 11
Ruby watched Abby and Harold dance to an unheard melody, swirling about the crowded room, expertly weaving in and out of the presents mounded everywhere. She hadn’t the faintest idea where the pair of them had learned to dance so elegantly. A few of the children ran about the room playing tag, while several of the older girls walked the room, marveling at all the gifts.
Best of all, Ellie sat in a chair, while removed from the others, she was at least there—and in her lap was the cutest of kittens. She might not have noticed the tiny creature, except for the children stopping every few minutes to give the thing a scratch behind the ear or a pat on the head.
Ellie’s appearance at dinner, and then her subsequent attendance in the ballroom, wasn’t the oddest part of Ruby’s evening—it was the smile that never left the girl’s face. In all the months since they’d met, Ruby had never seen her even half as happy as she looked now.
“She is beautiful when she smiles, is she not?”
“Vi.” Ruby nearly leapt from her seat. “You scared me.”
With a smile, she slid onto the lounge next to Ruby. “She looks much like her older sister.”
“You truly think so?” Ruby asked. While they were both quite tall and had their father’s eyes, Ellie’s hair was the color of a flame; hot and full of angst, and as unruly as she. “She is very lovely.”
“And beyond that,” Vi said, setting her hand on Ruby’s where it rested on her knee. “She is going to need you.”
Ruby chuckled. “Need me? It seems most days she can’t travel far enough to avoid me.” Before yesterday, Ruby truly believed she had nothing to offer the girl; she barely had a roof over her own head and her affairs in order. How did she ever expect to come to Ellie’s rescue if need be?
Vi leaned in close. “Give her a chance. She is lost—the only man she cared about is gone, and only a short time after meeting a sister she never knew existed. She just needs time.”
Ellie couldn’t have loved the marquis, he was a spiteful, vindictive man who only cared about his own comforts, not that of his young ward. Ruby had been there that night to witness his abuse firsthand.
“Nonetheless, it does not mean she did not love him,” Vi said as if reading Ruby’s thoughts. “Love is an odd thing. Sometimes we feel overwhelming things for people who couldn’t deserve it less.”
“But look at her.” Ruby lifted her hand, pointing in Ellie’s direction. “She appears happy. What has happened? After all these months of trying, what could someone have done that I haven’t tried?”
“I believe what someone did is right.” Vi nodded to the left of Ellie, and Ruby followed her line of sight. Alex sat with a few of the younger boys, but he clearly only had eyes for a certain fiery-haired lass—and it wasn’t of the four-legged variety. “I had my Christmas wish, maybe this Christmas miracle is for you?”
Alex was certainly a fine young man with great potential, but could he tame Ruby’s wild sister? Her greatest fear was that Ellie would pickpocket the wrong person—or find herself in a hard spot if she continued to rove about London after darkness had fallen. It was impossible for Ruby to protect the girl at all times, especially if Ellie didn’t want a chaperone, but it would put her mind at ease to know that Alex kept a close watch on her.
“It would set my mind at ease,” Ruby confided aloud, smiling at her friend. “Where is Lord Haversham and your little lord?” She hadn’t seen them enter the room with Vi, and with no squeals of delight came from the children so she guessed they hadn’t arrived.
“They will be along shortly. Brock cannot seem to let the babe go, except when I need feed him.” Vi also glanced toward the door. “He and Harold have enlisted a few helping hands to bring in a few more gifts for the children. It appears in my addled state, I forgot a few other gifts.”
The room was piled high with seemingly hundreds of presents, each with a note on top with the child’s name; red for the girls, green for the boys, and silver for the adults.
“Merry Christmas to all!” Lord Haversham’s voice boomed, quieting the entire room—the children freezing where they played. “I have found many more gifts!”
With Neill bundled in his arms, Brock stepped to the side and a parade of servants entered the room, their arms laden with more presents. Many Ruby recognized as the gifts sent by Lady Aloria—their wrapping having cream-colored bows.
Harold directed the delivery of each gift to the various stacks about the room, some piled on the floor, against the walls, and others on tables and empty seats. “You were very wise to prepare this room."
“Oh, it was not all my idea,” Vi confided. “Brock was certain any one of the other rooms would not do because the ceilings were not tall enough for the grand tree he chopped down.”
And it was true, the tree—a Norway Spruce—reached nearly to the vaulted ceiling, with garlands and trinkets sparkling in the light given off by the chandeliers and wall candles. At the top, placed delicately on the crown of the full pine, perched a handmade star formed from paper and colored by Abby and Daphne.
With all the gifts delivered, Harold and Brock joined them on the lounge as everyone settled to open gifts, their bellies full after their Christmas feast.
“A gift for you, my sweet,” Harold whispered, setting a tiny box with a gold ribbon in her lap.
Her face heated at the surprise. “I thought we agreed no gifts this year,” she said sternly, but a smile tipped the corner of her mouth. “You should not have done this.” They lived off the generosity of Vi and Lord Haversham—what little coin was trickling in from Harold and William’s shipping venture should be saved. They could not expect to reside at the Haversham townhouse forever.
But his wide grin was contagious. The thrill of an unexpected gift never grew old.
Vi nudged her side. “Just open it.”
“You knew about this?” Ruby demanded. “Are you my nearest and dearest or have you taken up league with these two rascals?”
“Me?” Brock raised his brow is mock horror. “I know nothing of what these two have planned.” Yet, his knowing wink to Harold proved that untrue.
“I promise it will be a great surprise.”
She turned a leery look in each of their directions before tugging the bow free. “You certainly did not wrap this, my husband.”
“You think my fingers incapable of tying a bow as pretty as you?” he asked on a gasp and placed a hand to his chest. “You wound my sensitive heart.”
“Oh, do stop, you two.” Vi sighed with exasperation. “The children are likely to start a mutiny if we stall any longer with their gifts.”
“They be likely ta make da lot of ye walk da plank, they are!” Mrs. Dutton called from her seat across the table.
Ruby looked at the tiny box before her, too small to hold most things, but far too heavy to be a brooch or other trinket. Taking hold of the lid, she pulled the top free.
Nestled on top of a folded cloth the color of Ellie’s ember hair was a single brass key.
Her questioning gaze shot to her husband. “What is this?” she asked breathlessly. She had her guess as to what it meant, but she needed him to say it—for she feared setting her sights on something only to be disappointed. “Harold?”
“It is the key to your new townhouse—our new townhouse,” he corrected. “Now, it is not ready—“
“Our own home?” she asked with disbelief. “How…I mean where…oh, Harold!”
Ruby flew into his embrace, his arms catching her before they both tumbled to the floor.
“Do not thank me just yet, my love,” he said into her hair, her lips trailing tiny kisses down his neck. “It is an older home…needing much repairs, a new roof being the least of it; but I gather I can call on Brock to help.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she cried into his shoulder. “It will be ours!”
“Will the miracles ever cease?” Vi said.
“I surely hope not.” Brock kissed his wife soundly on the lips and then little Neill on his rosy cheek. “Children, what in heavens name are all these gifts still wrapped for?”
And with that, bows and paper flew as Ruby sat contently in Harold’s arms, her future found in the form of a home, a keeper for her wayward sister, and the knowledge that her dearest friend was finally content and happy.
Scorned Ever More
A Lady Forsaken, Book Five
Copyright
Copyright © 2016 by Christina McKnight
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All rights reserved.
ISBN: 1-945089-00-8 (Electronic book)
ISBN-13: 978-1-945089-00-8 (Electronic book)
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La Loma Elite Publishing
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All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the author, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
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Christina@ChristinaMcKnight.com
To My Readers~
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Hidden No More brings the end of a great three years in my writing career.
I am heartbroken to be letting these characters go,
but I know you will keep their stories alive.
* * *
Onward and upward!
Prologue
London, England
March, 1816
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Andrew Penton, the Marquis of Drake, lifted his eyelids, heavy from the many years of undue turmoil he’d endured, to gaze into the emerald green eyes of one of his only offspring, his youngest daughter. Ellington’s eyes—so much likes his own—were the only feature about the girl that resembled him. The rest was inherited from a mother she’d never known… a woman Andrew had barely known himself. Nor one he had shown any mercy to in her darkest hour.
He was resigned to an eternity in hell for his callous existence.
How he regretted so many of the decisions he’d made, the people he’d hurt, and that he hadn’t honored Lorelei’s memory as was proper. She would never know how deep his love for her truly was because he’d wasted his years punishing himself and those around him. And too late, he’d realized it would not have been what she’d have wanted for him. No, if given the opportunity, Andrew would have done everything differently; he would have loved the children he’d been blessed with, not misspent years searching and longing for the child who belonged only to Lorelei, his long-lost beloved.
Lorelei’s babe with no blood tie to him or the Marquisate, a boy with no knowledge of the havoc his mother had brought to the marquis’ life…nor the utter destruction and agony she left in her wake.
But his Lorelei was gone…had been gone for what seemed an eternity. Yet, he was eager to be reunited with her…if there were something awaiting either of them on the other side of death.
Certainly, no place was reserved for him at Lorelei’s side—heaven was too great a hope for a man as cruel as he.
For now, he was left here with his youngest child; her misery rolling off her in waves. Emotionally collapsed in upon herself, she was broken. And he was responsible. So young, only seventeen summers, yet he’d forced her to live out the emotions of someone three times her age…all because…Andrew had no excuse for what he’d put her through, at least not one that made sense in this moment.
