Christmas Forevermore, page 21
The misery that crossed Mrs. Jackman’s features upon realizing that she would have to face the ton having failed at the goal she had so confidently set for herself almost made Minna feel sorry for her. Almost.
That moment of empathy might have stretched a little bit longer if not for the fact that Mrs. Jackman’s fleeting moment of penitence disappeared quickly. “There are any number of eligible gentlemen here tonight,” she said. “There must be one among them who would suit.”
It was not Minna who answered, but the calm and even tone of the one gentleman present that night whom she thought she could ever suit. “No gentleman will have a chance to determine that if Miss Schofield dies of an inflammation of the lungs from having been kept out in the cold all night without so much as a wrap to keep her warm.”
Mrs. Jackman spun a bit, enough to see who had spoken.
There he stood, Minna’s champion. He had over his arm a cloak, one she was almost certain was his grandmother’s. He stepped past Mrs. Jackman with only the tiniest dip of his head and stopped directly in front of Minna. He flung the cloak open and twirled it around her shoulders, settling it expertly into place.
“My grandparents were very concerned when they saw you escorted onto the terrace. Your remarkable kindness to them tonight, they feared, was to be repaid by succumbing to illness brought about by the neglect of others.” Rupert’s back was to Mrs. Jackman, so he could not possibly have seen the frantic look of embarrassment his words brought to her face.
“They are such dear and wonderful people,” Minna said. “It was my absolute delight to bring them tonight. I suspect it will be the highlight of the ball for me.”
“I’ve not given up yet,” Mrs. Jackman said from behind them. “I will find someone. You will see.”
Rupert looked over his shoulder at her. “You have time to sort out a likely candidate while Miss Schofield regains the feeling in her frozen fingers and toes.”
Only Rupert could have offered what was clearly meant to be a bit of a setdown in such a way that it didn’t feel like one. But he also didn’t inadvertently make it sound like encouragement.
Minna felt certain Mrs. Jackman left with her confidence returning and her determination solidifying. As the lady disappeared into the ballroom, Rupert set a hand on Minna’s back and guided her to the nearby adjacent doors, which led into the house’s library. The room was not dark, which Minna thought a good indication that it wasn’t considered unavailable to guests. But it was quiet and empty, and there was a bit of privacy.
She clutched the cloak closed in front of her, not realizing how cold she had truly been until she was back inside, shielded against the arctic air. The room boasted only a low-burning fire and didn’t have the bustle of people that had made the ballroom warm. Still, it was a welcome improvement.
“Thank you for your rescue,” Minna said. “I couldn’t tell whether Mrs. Jackman meant to give me a stinging setdown or dissolve into a puddle of pleading, trying to convince me to marry anyone simply to get her to stop blubbering.”
“Who did she toss in front of you tonight?”
“Lord Beaufort.” Minna actually laughed at the look of horror that crossed Rupert’s face. “It was worse than you are likely even imagining. I felt I was being subjected to an assessment of my suitability to act as his secretary or housekeeper or something of that nature. He made it abundantly clear that I was not at all what he was looking for in a future duchess.”
“Mercy, did he actually refer to his intended spouse that way?”
“He didn’t need to. He uttered the phrase ‘When I am duke’ to make his point clear.”
Rupert reached out and set a hand on her upper arm, looking at her with such tenderness she could have cried. “You deserve so much better than him, Minna. Mr. Lloyd thinks of little but what has been, Mr. Addison has no thoughts beyond enjoyment in the here and now, and Lord Beaufort is living in a future of his own imagining, defined by title and importance rather than happiness.”
“They were terrible enough choices that I find myself deeply doubting Mrs. Jackman’s ability as a matchmaker,” she said. “But there is one good thing that came of her efforts.”
His hand still rested against her arm, his thumb rubbing soft circles she could only just feel through the cloak. It was warming her through faster than even the thick wool.
“What is that?” he asked.
“I learned something from each of them. Through them I saw flaws in my own way of looking at and thinking about life.”
“You have?”
She nodded, holding his emerald gaze with hers. “I have been living in fear of the future because I was still so pained by my past. Having seen the troubles with living in either of those extremes, I am determined to strike a better balance. I am determined to remember joy, to find joy, to anticipate joy. It’s been too long since I’ve allowed myself to do any of the three.”
His other hand slipped her face, brushing her cheek ever so gently, a whisper of a touch. “That is what I’ve wished for you, Minna. Happiness and joy.”
She closed her eyes, memorizing the feel of his hand on her face. This was one of those moments she would reflect on with joy, even if the future proved something other than what she wished for now. “Is that why you look at me the way you do sometimes?” she asked him, her eyes still closed.
“What way is that?” She felt him step closer. Even with her eyes still closed, she could tell he was near, could feel the increased warmth from him, could hear his voice more clearly, even though he spoke more softly.
“You look at me sometimes like there’s something you’re not telling me, something you want to say but can’t bring yourself to.” She opened her eyes at last, and he was indeed standing a breath away. “I’ve been afraid you were going to tell me you’d grown weary of me and my faults and”—his hand slipped from her face to the back of her neck—“that you were going to leave and not come back.” His other hand moved from her arm to her back as he pulled her nearer still. “What is it you haven’t told me?”
Ever closer he leaned until he was too near for her eyes to focus, too near for her to keep looking. Her eyes fluttered shut.
“I’ve been desperate to tell you,” he whispered, “that I love you, Minna Schofield. I have for so long, though I didn’t even realize it.”
With an aim borne of instinct, she lifted onto her toes ever so slightly and felt her lips brush his for an instant. The air around them crackled as it would in the moment before a lightning strike. She wrapped her arms around his neck, the cloak falling from her shoulders. But the warmth of his arms around her, his lips fervently searching and pleading with hers, sent waves of warmth through her more healing and more abiding than any mere piece of fabric could provide.
He kept her in his arms even as he pressed the lightest of kisses along her cheek.
“I love you, Rupert. So very much.”
He whispered in her ear, “Mrs. Jackman will likely take credit for this, you realize.”
“Let her,” Minna said. “We will know the truth.”
His breath tickling her ear, he whispered, “And what is the truth?”
“That this, my dear Rupert, was nothing short of our Christmas miracle.”
Epilogue
For Minna, life was better than even she had predicted. She lived with a heart filled with the lessons of the past, the beauty of the present, and the promise of the future. With joy, all three strived within her.
In her newfound joy, she was as light as a feather and as happy as an angel. At the dawning of the new year, she and Rupert were married. Within a fortnight, Lettie and Simon were as well. And the four of them were the merriest of participants as the social Season began not many months removed from those blessed occasions.
Mrs. Jackman, who did in fact claim credit for having successfully found Minna a match, crowed to all who would hear her of the miracle she had brought about. Mrs. Shaw and Mrs. Mabey allowed the Queen of the Gossipers to claim responsibility whilst they were with her, but when whispering over tea in drawing rooms where she was not present, they offered all the credit to Minna and Rupert. Nearly all, at least. They felt themselves deserving of some acknowledgment, as they had, they insisted, put the idea of marriage into Minna’s head with their visits.
Minna, with her beloved Rupert at her side, simply went about her days filled with happiness. And when Rupert suggested that they, in company with their dearest friends, journey to the Continent, she could imagine nothing better. She, who had thought herself perfectly content to spend her days closed off from the world, mourning her losses and fearing her future, could imagine nothing more delightful than a life filled with adventures at the side of her dearest whilst they dreamed of happiness yet to come.
Some people laughed to see the alteration in her from a lady even Mrs. Jackman could not convince to make a match to one utterly besotted. She let them laugh and little heeded them.
She had found peace and joy and a heart filled with love.
About the Author
Sarah M. Eden is a USA Today best-selling author of witty and charming historical romances, including 2020’s Foreword Reviews INDIE Awards Gold winner for romance, Forget Me Not, 2019’s Foreword Reviews INDIE Awards Gold winner for romance, The Lady and the Highwayman, and 2020 Holt Medallion finalist, Healing Hearts. She is a three-time Best of State Gold Medal winner for fiction and a three-time Whitney Award winner. Combining her obsession with history and her affinity for tender love stories, Sarah loves crafting deep characters and heartfelt romances set against rich historical backdrops. She holds a bachelor’s degree in research and happily spends hours perusing the reference shelves of her local library.
Learn more about Sarah at SarahMEden.com, and follow her on social media.
Facebook: Sarah M. Eden
Instagram: @sarah_m_eden
Other Covenant Books by Sarah M. Eden
The Lancaster Family
Seeking Persephone
Courting Miss Lancaster
Romancing Daphne
Loving Lieutenant Lancaster
Christmas at Falstone Castle*
in All Hearts Come Home for Christmas anthology
Charming Artemis
The Gents
Forget Me Not
The Holly and the Ivy*
in The Holly and the Ivy anthology
Lily of the Valley
Fleur-de-Lis
The Huntresses
The Best-Laid Plans*
The Best Intentions
The Jonquil Brothers
The Kiss of a Stranger
Friends and Foes
Drops of Gold
As You Are
A Fine Gentleman
For Love or Honor
The Heart of a Vicar
Charming Artemis
Stand-Alones
For Elise
Glimmer of Hope
An Unlikely Match
The Fiction Kitchen
Trio Cookbook
*Novella
Chronological Order of All Related
Sarah M. Eden GEORGIAN- & Regency-Era Books
Forget Me Not
The Holly and the Ivy*
Lily of the Valley
Fleur-de-Lis
Seeking Persephone
Courting Miss Lancaster
Glimmer of Hope
Romancing Daphne
The Kiss of a Stranger
Friends and Foes
Drops of Gold
For Elise
As You Are
A Fine Gentleman
For Love or Honor
Loving Lieutenant Lancaster
Christmas at Falstone Castle
The Heart of a Vicar
The Best-Laid Plans
Charming Artemis
The Best Intentions
Christmas at Cranfield
Ashtyn Newbold
Chapter 1
December 1813
Hannah Somerton drew a heart on the frosted window of the carriage while her mother and William slept. She stole a quick glance at Mama, whose nose and mouth were buried in her shawl, and her brother, William, his head leaned back and mouth gaping open, to ensure their eyes were still closed before adding the final touch to her drawing.
Samuel.
She wrote his name in the frost beneath the heart, quickly swiping her palm across it when she heard William stir. He snorted, rubbing his eyes as he sat up. Hannah turned away from the window, crossing her hands in her lap over the carriage blanket. Writing Samuel’s name on the window while William slept was the closest Hannah could ever come to telling her brother her secret. It had been a thrilling risk to draw Samuel’s name right under William’s nose, but now she had to pretend that instead she had been passing the drive staring at the shiny gray ringlets of Mama’s hair as the carriage bounced over the road.
William threw a lazy glance at the streak Hannah had made on the window to hide her drawing. He didn’t seem to think anything of it. He stretched his legs out in front of him, stealing what little space she’d had in the cramped carriage. “Are you not tired?” William asked through a yawn.
Hannah couldn’t begin to feel tired, not when she was about to see Samuel again. They were only a few minutes from Cranfield, and she had been waiting four years for this moment. She gave a fake yawn. “I am.”
William’s brown eyes softened with understanding. “Are you thinking of your first Season? I know how eagerly you are anticipating it.”
“Yes,” Hannah said, crossing her hands in her lap. “You are right.” She barely managed to refrain from groaning. William was the one who was eager, not Hannah. She had been dreading the day she would be presented at court to the Queen. Not only that but the hundreds of days filled with parties and balls that she would have to attend. All the judgment, the expectations, and the hopes of her brother had been weighing on her back with more strength than if she were to pull the carriage in place of the horses. Since her father, the late Viscount of Northam, had died two years ago, William had become the new viscount and her guardian until she either married or reached her majority in three years’ time. It had seemed, since that day, that he no longer viewed her as a sister.
He viewed her as an asset.
She could make a connection with another noble family, and that possibility was William’s obsession. Was she pretty enough? Graceful enough? Accomplished enough to attract a viscount or earl or marquess or duke? Over the last two years, he had been asking himself such questions, and when the answer wasn’t to his satisfaction, he pushed Hannah to change and mold herself into the perfect debutante. With her first Season approaching, William was even more attentive than usual.
She could pretend she was thinking of her Season as he was, but in reality, she was thinking only of Samuel. How might he have changed in the last four years? What would he think when he saw her? Would he find her much altered at eighteen? She had more than a fortnight ahead to spend in his company, exploring his new manor. Christmas Eve was a week away, and they would be staying until Twelfth Night.
“Do not fret, sister. Enjoy the Christmastide.” William interlocked his fingers behind his head, burying them in the dark curls at the nape of his neck. “It shall be a joy to see Samuel again. I have missed our Christmases spent together.” He closed his eyes. “I am happy for him. I thought he would have to spend his life as a clergyman.” He snorted in amusement. “Or a woodcarver, like his grandfather.”
Hannah stared at the smug expression on William’s face as he drifted to sleep again. William knew all the good qualities his closest friend possessed, yet he still mocked Samuel for his circumstances. Samuel had worked to have the opportunity to become a clergyman—that was where he had been the last four years, completing his degree at Cambridge. Even if he had been a woodcarver, living on meager wages, Hannah would still have loved him. His luck had turned, however, as was well-deserved, and he had been granted the small estate of Cranfield by his late uncle. With enough farmers working the land, Samuel could now live as a gentleman, without any other occupation.
He didn’t have the wealth Hannah’s family had, nor the connections, but growing up near their neighborhood, he had become a dear friend to them. William had been a much less arrogant, haughty boy than the man he had turned into. Hannah could still envision him laughing, running through the woods with Samuel while she had tried to keep up. As boys, they had been so similar, despite their difference in station. Now William seemed to revel in his superior circumstances, yet he still wrote to Samuel often, keeping their friendship alive from a distance. Perhaps it was because Samuel was the only man forgiving enough to remain William’s friend despite his change in attitude.
Hannah’s heart thudded as she anticipated the reunion that was only minutes away. The carriage slowed a little as it climbed a hill. She looked out the window at the frosted grass that flanked the road. And then, over the crest of the hill, she saw it.
Cranfield.
Red brick, stately, and symmetrical, the house stood alone amid the vast land encircling it. It wasn’t near the size of her family’s estate. It was much simpler, but that suited its new owner. Samuel was much like that house. Solid, dependable, but not desperate for attention. Unassuming, lovely, and unexpected. Her stomach fluttered, and she wrapped her arms around herself. Christmas was already her favorite time of the year. To spend it with Samuel would make it even more perfect.
