A Bride for Christmas (Regency Novella) Read online

  Chapter Two

  In the thin light of Christmas Eve morning, Lady Julianna huddled on a pile of rocks at the edge of the pond at Renford. The air was brisk, the rock even colder beneath her, but the silence was what she sought. In the nursery of the manor house, her sister's nieces and nephews were likely stirring, with the older children already plotting the day's mischief. She'd avoided the morning room in case Lady Renford was there with her lists. "Gather greens. Decorate the drawing room. Take baskets to the vicar."

  The other young ladies could easily dispense with the lists. Father had mentioned shooting as the men's entertainment for the day. She'd considered slipping into the library and reading the newspaper, even if it was days old. But either Mama or Lady Renford might discover her there.

  She simply was not of a mind to be festive this year.

  She sat on the largest rock, her back to the trail, and swirled a long, thin stick in the water below her feet. Her hair fell in loose waves down her back, and her pelisse was unbuttoned in spite of the chilly breeze. She needed the unrestricted air about her this morning. In fact, she had the most undignified urge to run screaming down a hillside and roll in the long grass, if any remained after the snowfall several weeks ago.

  The melancholy that had awakened in her at the birth of her nephew Edward had worsened last night, thanks to Mr. Sinclair. His questions were no different from those asked by her mother and many of her friends. But coming from him, the queries made her dreams seem so frivolous. And she didn't want anyone to see her that way.

  While the scar on his face had faded to a pale pink stripe that disappeared into his thick black hair, it shouted at her like a headline. Selfless Warrior. The man had done something completely unselfish with his life by joining the cavalry and defending his country. Now that he'd come home, he wasn't using his uniform and battle stories to draw attention at assemblies. From what Clemmie told her, he avoided the large gatherings almost as much as Julianna did.

  Two years ago when Aunt Phillips had asked Julianna to become her companion, she promised to leave her money and home to Julianna on her death. Aunt Phillips no longer enjoyed travel beyond her annual trip to Brighton, but she had traveled quite extensively as a young lady. She encouraged Julianna's desire to visit new places and write about them. A spinster herself, the older woman did nothing to dissuade her niece's preference to remain unmarried.

  Moving in with Aunt Phillips had seemed the ideal situation for Julianna, regardless of the possibility that her aunt was likely to live many more years. It was ideal, that is, until the Honorable Edward Milton Dowsett Sinclair was born. Julianna and her mother had been in attendance, of course, as they had for the births of Clemmie's daughters. But when Julianna held the young heir for the first time, a hammer and chisel struck the wall around her heart and it shattered.

  There in her arms was why people fell in love. Why people married. That tiny life, still red and squinting in the candlelight, was the reason all battles were fought and kingdoms overthrown.

  In the six weeks since his birth, Julianna was unable to rid herself of a niggling notion she should be doing her part in the continuation of the family, of society. Though she couldn't fight battles nor pass along a title or a family name, by marrying she could enable a man to do so. How selfish was she to think only of herself?

  Julianna drew in a deep breath. She must still be tired from the long carriage ride from Lyminster, or perhaps she was becoming ill. Spells of melancholia were not her manner. She never had a need for them, her life being richer than she could ask for, even if the pleasures were as simple as walks to the lending library and playing cards with her aunt's circle of friends.

  "Good morning, my lady."

  The voice from behind made her jump, her arms flaying as she wavered on the rock. She twisted to see who approached. "Oh, Mr. Sinclair. I didn't hear you coming up the path."

  Motioning with the reins of the horse he stood beside, he laughed. "You must have been deep in thought to not hear Caesar's hooves."

  "I suppose I was. It's so peaceful out here. It's easy to let one's thoughts wander."

  "That is exactly why I came. To escape the noise of the household." Mr. Sinclair stood near the rock pile and his horse nibbled the grass at their feet.

  "You do have so many brothers and sisters."

  "And every one of their children is boisterous and loud, n'est ce pas?"

  She had to agree. There were no sickly or mousy members of the Renford clan, excepting the youngest sister. "How does Evie manage to read among them?"

  "I sometimes wonder if the book is just a prop to avoid joining a card game or other pursuit. No one knows how many pages she actually reads."

  Julianna laughed and turned back to the pond, drawing her stick through the water. Immediately her thoughts returned to her dilemma. Perhaps she didn't have the attributes necessary to be a good mother like Clemmie. Could it be her dreams of spinsterhood had good cause?

  "Am I disturbing your solitude?"

  She glanced at him. He appeared to await instruction, and yet it was his family's pond, not hers. "I'm the visitor here. You mustn't feel put out. I'll go back to the house and leave you to your privacy."

  As she moved to step down from the rocks, he blocked her path. "No, don't go. At least, not on my account. I would enjoy some quiet company."

  Smiling, she took a moment to study his features. His chestnut hair fell in long waves over his collar. He was more handsome than his brother, but he smiled less, which gave Geoff the advantage. Mr. Sinclair had the dark hazel eyes his family was known for, and the strong jaw. The lines on his face made him appear older than four-and-thirty years. How many of those years were spent in battle? The extremes of weather alone would age a man too soon. She shuddered to think of all he'd seen.

  Realizing she had stared at him for far too long without responding, she said, "Shall we walk, then?"

  He motioned to the path around the pond and fell in beside her, with his horse following. "In the spring and summer you will find all sorts of animals coming to the pond to drink. The woods are full of deer, and I'm sure Father hasn't hunted his last fox on the grounds."

  "Your childhood must have been quite rich, growing up in a place like this. So many wild animals and interesting places to explore."

  "Your father's estate isn't the same?" he asked.

  "The house is quite grand, but the grounds are not as extensive. There are no woods, and the only water is on the other side of the village."

  They continued to compare their early lives, most of the stories being Mr. Sinclair's, which kept her laughing. By the time she realized how long they'd been strolling around the pond, the sun was high in the sky and her stomach rumbled with hunger. She pressed a hand to her middle in embarrassment.

  "Forgive me," Mr. Sinclair said with a twinkle in his eye. "I have rambled so long you are growing faint with hunger."

  "Don't be silly. I skip breakfast many mornings with no threat of withering away." Still, she did wish to eat soon. "But perhaps we should return to the manor. My mother has likely missed me by now."

  "Hmmm. I highly doubt anyone has noticed I'm not there. I'm not sure if that's a blessing or a curse, but it is common in large families, I understand." He steered them in the direction of the path through the woods.

  "Do you plan to have a large family one day?" As soon as the words left her mouth, Julianna bit the inside of her cheek. What had made her ask such a question? Now he would think she had marriage on her mind. Nothing could be further from the truth, she told herself. And almost believed it.

  "I never thought much about it. I suppose it was understood I would marry, and until Edward was born there was a chance providing the heir could fall to me. However, I confess that while on the Continent I had very little time for such thoughts."

  For a short distance they walked in silence. Again, the war rose up to remind her how bacon-brained she was to plan her future as a spinster by choice. She'd tu
rned down two offers of marriage before her aunt had spoken to her about becoming her companion. Both men had decent livings and promised comfortable lives. But was it fair to marry where her heart was not involved? Would she love her own children without blaming them for keeping her at home? And her husband…would she grow jealous of his freedom to come and go as he pleased?

  "And what of you, Lady Julianna? Have we Sinclairs shown you the blessings to be found in a large household?"

  She feigned a smile. "As I said last night, I don't intend to marry."

  "So you said. I've never met a young woman so determined to avoid the parson's mousetrap."

  A large animal came bounding through the brush and Julianna instantly stepped closer to Mr. Sinclair. A loud bark gave away the beast's identity just before he broke through the trees. Mr. Sinclair called to him. "St. George! I left without you this morning, old boy. Will you forgive me?"

  The giant black and white dog lurched up and planted his forepaws on his master's shoulders, his slavering tongue bathing Mr. Sinclair's face. Oddly enough, the man laughed. "I take that as a yes." With both hands, he pushed the dog's head away. St. George dropped his paws to the ground and stood with his tail wagging.

  "I've never seen such a large dog. He must weigh more than you do."

  "He's from Newfoundland. A man convinced father this dog was related to Boatswain, Lord Byron's beloved dog. I have my doubts, but he is by far the best dog we've had. The children think of him as another playmate, or a piece of furniture."

  The dog looked up at her as if deciding whether to lick her face or not. She raised her hands to ward him off. "You mustn't dare jump on me, St. George. I fear I wouldn't survive it."

  "Well, if he hurts you, he can carry you back to the house."

  "I'd be much more comfortable on Caesar, given the choice." She ran her fingers over the horse's velvet muzzle and earned a nicker in return. Then the horse's ears pricked and he called out to whatever he heard in the distance.

  "Someone must have followed St. George," Mr. Sinclair said.

  His brother trotted up the path on a sleek black horse, his face showing his surprise. "Well, good morning to you, Julianna. Nash."

  "Good morning, Geoff. We were just on our way back." Julianna caught a questioning tilt of his head directed at his brother. She knew immediately what he assumed. Surely Geoff knew her well enough to not suspect any threat of an attachment forming between his brother and her.

  Mr. Sinclair explained their outing. "I found Lady Julianna by the pond and confess to boring her well beyond what a guest should be expected to endure. I've been trying to think of a way to make it up to her."

  Geoff raised a brow. "Have you? And what have you devised?"

  Mr. Sinclair turned to search her face. "The lady is difficult to discern. With our sisters, an offer of a pretty ribbon or favored sweet should suffice. But I fear your sister-in-law is not so easily diverted."

  When both men continued to study her, even in jest, her cheeks grew warm. She didn't enjoy being the focus of anyone's attention. Why couldn't they leave her be? Clemmie had warned her about the brothers' teasing way, but she'd assumed they directed it towards the children.

  Geoff nodded at his brother's comment, but his eyes narrowed. "Quite so. And were I discussing this with, say, Millingham or Bradford, I might feel inclined to offer a suggestion. Given it is you, brother, who seeks her good opinion, I find I must ask why it is so important to you."

  Chapter Three

  Questions about Lady Julianna danced about Nash's head throughout the afternoon, first while he evaded his mother's quest to reacquaint him with the vicar's two daughters, Miss Gilly and Miss Milly Collingwood. The glimpse he had of them as he tiptoed past the drawing room told him both young ladies were even rounder than when he'd seen them two years past. Miss Milly's shrill giggle echoed through the open doorway and bounced off the walls, chasing Nash as he hurried his pace towards the back stairs.

  Nash instructed the butler, Rhimes, he would not be joining the others at cards, and if asked, to say he'd not been seen since morning. He then retreated into his bedchamber. Doing so was an unwise choice. With nothing to read, and owing no one a letter, he paced the floor. Of course, he again found himself reflecting on Lady Julianna.

  Leaning on the window frame, he stared at the barren rear lawn and leafless trees. Try as he might, he couldn't quiet the notion his life was in just such a state. He wasn't given to poetics, yet the coming days, perhaps years, would dawn bleak and grey if he didn't do something. Go into business. Become steward over one of his father's properties. Marry. Anything.

  He continued to ponder on it during dinner, which was rather light fare given they were all to attend the Christmas Eve ball at the assembly rooms that evening and would be eating again there. Clementina, sitting on his left, mentioned the visit by the vicar's daughters.

  "I believe they called here to determine if you would be in attendance this evening," she said.

  He bit back a groan. "And what did Mother tell them?"

  Clementina licked her lips and smiled. "Your mother was quite certain you would be fully rested from your travels and ready to dance the night through."

  The bite of fish in his mouth grew very dry. He choked it down and took several swallows of his wine before he could speak. He cleared his throat. "How delightful. I must remember to thank Mother for ensuring my entertainment."

  "You're her only unmarried son, Nash. It's not quite the same as the joy she gets matchmaking for her daughters, but you must understand she'll feel her life is incomplete until you take a wife."

  Allowing his gaze to circle the happily married young people around the table, he couldn't prevent himself from stopping on the one other person who'd remained single well past the expected age. Lady Julianna sat between her father and one of Nash's brothers-in-law, and was deep in conversation with those seated nearby. Her deep green gown made her skin look like fragile porcelain.

  Clementina must have noticed where his attention lay. "You are determined to make the step difficult, are you?"

  "What?" He turned his head to look at Clementina. "How is that?"

  "If you are hoping to capture her heart, you'll have a rough time of it."

  He considered her words. "Do her affections lie elsewhere?"

  "She has intentionally avoided allowing herself to hold any affection towards any man." Clementina leaned closer and kept her voice low. "I cannot explain it. I'm certain she never had her heart broken. I can think of no reason for her to feel this way, and she refuses to speak about it."

  They stopped conversing while the next course was served. Nash ate several spoonfuls of the delicious celery ragout while waiting for her to continue. He didn't want to appear too eager to learn more of her sister's character. Clementina had broached the subject, giving him the opening, but discretion would still be wise. He wasn't even certain why he needed to know everything about Lady Julianna, so he didn't want to draw attention to his curiosity.

  "If you wish it, you may visit us in the spring and I will introduce you to some of my friends. We'll throw a house party, so it won't be matchmaking. Geoff can invite a few of the single young men he knows to round out the numbers. I've been longing to see several of my particular friends. It will be perfect."

  Perfectly dreadful, in his opinion. While a house party wasn't as painful as spending an evening with a new acquaintance who hoped for an attachment, the accumulation of endless brief moments of awkwardness was equally uncomfortable. He smiled in spite of his consternation. "I should hate to put you to any trouble."

  "It's no trouble. What else is a sister for, but to introduce her brother to his future wife."

  She meant well, but he could picture her beside his mother as they mapped out their strategy. Even the Wellington would quake in his hessians when faced with such a foe. Was there any chance Nash might meet someone at the assembly rooms that very evening and declare himself passionately in love, thus putting
an end to the madness?

  Having grown up at Renford Abbey, he knew the answer to that question. He also knew all the young ladies, married and not, likely to attend the dance. None were remarkable enough to tempt him into making any poetic declarations. Still, when he followed his family inside the large inn, the festivity of the night promised an enjoyable time, if nothing more.

  He reminded himself many marriages were built on less than a passionate love. But he wanted more. If he had to spend the rest of his life with a woman, he damned well wanted to care about her. His parents' love was the backbone of his family. He expected the same from his own marriage.

  Geoff and Father immediately made their way to the card tables, but Nash remained with the rest of their party. A cotillion was already in progress at one end of the crowded room. His sister Marianne and Clementina squeezed through the press of townspeople to sit with some of Marianne's friends. Mother and Lady Carrington found the wife of the local solicitor as well as Mrs. Collingwood, the vicar's wife. Their cackled greetings reminded Nash of the henhouse early in the morning. With a roll of his eyes, he continued onwards.

  Evie dragged Lady Julianna to meet some of the younger ladies who were not dancing this set. Nash followed. Perhaps some of Evie's friends would be more desirable now they were ready to make their come-out. More genteel, circumspect.

  He should have known better. Their cackles rang out equally loud, if higher in pitch than his mother and her friends. He attempted to make his escape before they noticed him, only to be stopped by a hand on his arm.

  "Mr. Sinclair?"

  Relief washed through him when he recognized the sweetest of voices. He smiled and turned back, bowing his head slightly. "Lady Julianna."

  "Am I keeping you from joining your friends?"

  "No. Quite the opposite. I'd thought to speak to Evie, but don't wish to intrude," he hastily explained. He placed Julianna's hand on his sleeve and moved away from his sister. "Are you dancing this evening?"

  "Clemmie says I should."

  "But you don't wish to? I assure you the local young men would be delighted to have a new partner for a change."

  "Yes, but everyone reads too much into a dance. One cannot simply enjoy the music and steps. One must speak at the proper times, and only on the proper subjects, while managing to appear witty and gay. With all the rules to observe there is no room for enjoyment."

  He laughed. "I thought you weren't worried about what others say."

  She offered him a tremulous smile.

  Couples gathered in the center of the floor as the trio of musicians prepared to play the next piece. Nash pushed through the bystanders, taking Lady Julianna with him. "Well, then, you shall dance with me and not worry about any rules."

  Before she could argue, the music began and they moved in step with the others. Nash refrained from making casual comments, instead just watching her enjoy herself. The small curls framing her porcelain face bounced with each light step and her cheeks glowed a lovely shade of pink. By the end of the second set they were both laughing and breathing hard.

  Nash led her to the refreshments and handed her a small cup of lemonade. "I hope you'll give me the honor of a second dance later in the evening. Although I'm certain I'll have to fight my way through your admirers."

  Her bubbling laugh delighted him. She took a sip of her drink, and her fine violet eyes were still laughing when she spoke. "With all the young ladies present, I'm not likely to draw anyone's attentions."

  As if to disprove her point, Mr. Michael Upton strode up to Nash. "Sinclair, how are you? It's been three years since I last spoke with you. Will you be staying long at Renford?"

  "A few weeks at most. Father tells me you opened a second mill in Beckbury."

  "Yes, three months past." He gave Nash a rather pointed look in Lady Julianna's direction.

  "Ah, Lady Julianna Dowsett, may I present my childhood friend, Mr. Michael Upton," Nash began. "Lady Julianna is my sister-in-law's sister."

  "How do you do, Mr. Upton?"

  He bowed. "Quite well, thank you. I met your sister two years ago, I believe."

  Lady Julianna blinked and threw Nash a pleading glance. "Oh. Well, how…delightful?"

  Mr. Upton offered his arm. "If you are not otherwise engaged, may I have this dance?"

  "I, uh, that is, I hadn't—"

  "She would love to," Nash said, giving her a slight push. He winked when her eyes narrowed. Upton was harmless and Lady Julianna did appear to enjoy dancing.

  The third time Mr. Upton trod on her toes, Julianna cursed Mr. Sinclair and contemplated her revenge. There must be something he loathed as much as she found dancing with sweaty-palmed men of little consequence. Now that she thought on it, men of any consequence with sweaty palms or foreheads made poor partners. She longed to pull her handkerchief from her reticule and scrub her hands, but couldn't do so until after the dance ended and she had gracefully escaped his company.

  When she and Mr. Upton promenaded up the line of dancers, she noticed Mr. Sinclair standing between the Misses Collingwood, who were both talking at the same time. How wonderful! Julianna must make sure he danced with each of them. And if she could manage it, he'd dance with them twice, or more. Wouldn't that be scandalous, breaking the rules with the vicar's daughters.

  She doubted that last would be possible. She would have enough difficulty arranging the first offers. Unless she enlisted the aid of Lady Renford.

  Mr. Upton trod on her toes one last time before the music ended. Julianna curtsied, made an excuse to avoid his escort and hurried to where her mother and Lady Renford sat before Mr. Upton could offer refreshment or a stroll around the room. Mama noticed her approach. "Julianna, dear. I am so happy to see you enjoying yourself."

  "Yes," Lady Renford added, the large peacock feather on her head bobbing. "That was kind of Nash to dance with you, although I doubt the gentlemen here needed any help in seeing what an excellent partner you are."

  Julianna offered an imitation of her sister's sweet smile. "Yes, I had another offer as soon as the first song ended. But poor Mr. Sinclair hasn't danced again, even though he has two very eligible partners at hand." She turned in his direction, as did the two older women.

  "Why so he has." His mother adjusted her bonnet. "He can't ask one sister and leave the other standing alone. I believe we can assist him. Shall we?"

  Lady Renford led the way around the dancers with Mama directly behind her. Julianna hurried to keep up, so she wouldn't miss a moment of the conversation.

  The countess greeted the three young people before taking the arm of Miss Milly. Or was she Miss Gilly? "I hope you don't mind, Nash, but I noticed your cousin was in need of a partner for the Scotch reel. I'll escort Miss Collingwood to him. You may dance with Miss Gilly in the Scotch reel, and Miss Collingwood in the next dance."

  Mr. Sinclair's eyes flared momentarily, but his smile never wavered. "Capital suggestion. But who will dance with Lady Julianna?"

  "Now, don't you worry, dear boy. Her mother and I will find her a partner, too."

  Julianna kept her groan to herself. She hadn't anticipated that turn of the cards. Mr. Sinclair was proving to be a worthy adversary.

  His mother was true to her word, and after depositing Miss Collingwood on the arm of an unsuspecting cousin Peter, Lady Renford introduced Julianna to a local farmer who was surprisingly light on his feet for a man who spent his days laboring in the fields. His conversation was pleasant, as they had both read some of the same books. He was a cheery sort of man who laughed often, and could be called handsome, but she was not sorry when he walked away, leaving her with her mother and Lady Renford. She wasn't eager to see him go, but there was nothing memorable about their brief encounter.

  The other three men she danced with left her feeling the same way. While she had forgotten how much she enjoyed dancing, she wouldn't miss it when she returned home. And none of the gentlemen at the assembly would rate a mention when she told her aunt of all her adven
tures during her visit to Renford.

  None, including the one who repeatedly drew her gaze as she danced with her various partners. Mr. Sinclair was worthy of such mention, but Julianna had yet to determine how he would fit into the grand scheme of her memories. He wasn't the Great Love she'd weep melancholy tears over in her later years, nor the Passing Fancy she'd keep in her thoughts just to remind her she'd once been a silly chit. And he didn't really seem an Innocent Flirtation.

  No, he was more likely on the way to becoming a Great Friend she might one day wish had been more.

  Nash resigned himself to dancing with the Collingwood sisters, and didn't hate it as much as he expected. The Scotch Reel was perfect for Miss Gilly's bouncy personality and she performed the steps flawlessly. He thought it a shame she and her sister had as yet been unable to find husbands. They were sweet, if one turned a blind eye to their exuberance.

  After dancing with the second sister, he noticed the wallflowers quietly observing the dancers. The half-dozen young ladies talked amongst themselves as if they'd rather be anywhere but in the assembly rooms. He knew the feeling. He approached the closest one.

  "Miss Langly, how are you?"

  "I'm well, thank you." She plucked at the ribbon on her bodice.

  He offered his arm. "Would you care to dance?"

  She studied his arm as if she'd never seen one before, and glanced nervously at her friends before putting her hand inside his elbow. "Yes. Thank you."

  His feet knew the moves so well his thoughts were free to wander, and those thoughts returned repeatedly to Lady Julianna. It didn't help when her laughter would ring out from a few feet behind him on the dance floor. Curiosity battled jealousy and he wanted to know what her partner had said to delight her so.

  What really startled him was his reaction to Geoff partnering her. Watching Lady Julianna turn on his arm brought up petty emotions. Nash wanted to march over and remind his brother he had a wife who was perfectly capable of dancing. A similar rancid feeling churned in his gut when she stood up with other men. Why was he feeling so possessive of her?

  Then Lady Julianna walked out on the floor with a local young man Nash didn't recognize. A short distance separated the pair when they took their positions and waited for the music to begin. She smiled and ducked her head, and Nash wondered what the man had said. Was it a simple compliment, or had he made some off-color suggestion? Lady Julianna wasn't bashful around Nash, so surely her reaction showed the man said something untoward. Should Nash speak to him?

  Suddenly he heard his thoughts and realized he was acting like a fool. What could the man say in the midst of a crowded assembly? It had to be an innocent comment. Nash would do better to keep his eyes off Lady Julianna, or he might say something that would embarrass himself as well as the lady.

  By the time he'd worked his way through the first three wallflowers, several other gentleman had come to the rescue of the others. Relieved of his self-imposed duty to ensure their happiness, he berated himself for his need to put on the knight's shining armor and rescue the fair damsels. He would have to watch that tendency while hunting for a wife, lest he find himself saddled to a young lady he'd only meant to save from disappointment.

  Lady Julianna laughed again from the center of the room, calling him like a siren's song. Why was it, when he compared her to the other available ladies of his acquaintance, none presented themselves as desirable alternatives?