A Christmas In Bath (6 page)

"You must have confidence in my ability to read human nature," Glee told Miss Arbuckle after Mr. Blankenship left her at Glee's settee. "Jonathan is exceptionally vexed with Appleton." Glee lowered her voice. "I most cleverly arranged that we would drive past your house this morning whilst I knew Appleton would be there."

Miss Arbuckle's eyes rounded. "You asked Mr. Appleton to visit me, did you not?"

"Of course I did. And you must believe me when I tell you that Jonathan could not conceal his anger."

Miss Arbuckle could barely concentrate on Glee's words when she witnessed Mr. Blankenship storming across the ballroom floor and greeting Mr. Appleton. Even though it was Sir Elvin who addressed him, Jonathan Blankenship could not remove his angry gaze from Mr. Appleton.

"You must not watch Jonathan," Glee cautioned. "Do not permit him to see that you're concerned."

"I cannot heed you," Miss Arbuckle snapped with uncharacteristic sharpness. "Can you not see that poor Jonathan may very well be initiating fisticuffs with Mr. Appleton, who is considerably larger than him! Do you really think I am the cause of this scene?"

"Of course you are! Jonathan's in love with you. Have I not told you that any number of times?"

Miss Arbuckle turned an anguished face upon her friend. "We must do something! I would die if something should happen to Jonathan." Twice now, she had referred to the man she loved by his Christian name.

"Blanks will handle the situation, never fear. See, he's stepped up and is acting commanderly. Is that a word?"

"I don't believe it is."

"Being a talented poet, you would know."

Miss Arbuckle whirled at Glee. "How can you discuss something so frivolous at a time like this? What if it were your dear Blanks who was being threatened?"

"Trust Blanks to handle the fracas."

Once Miss Arbuckle saw that the elder Blankenship brother had indeed stepped between the two near-combatants, her tightly fisted hands began to uncoil.

Then Jonathan stormed away. When he began to walk toward her, she forced herself to look away. Glee said she must not look too eager for his attentions. Even though she was. She would never understand the coy rituals young ladies engaged in. Why could she not just allow herself to be honest? Because pretty ladies did not risk scorn by admitting their attraction to a man; plain and penniless old maids could admit no such thing.

When he was within ten feet of her, she slowly turned to him. Their eyes met and held as he closed the gap that separated them. "Will you permit me to walk in the Octagon with you?" he asked in a voice that did not seem like Jonathan Blankenship's.

"Yes, of course." She tried to act calm as she placed her hand upon his proffered arm, but she was trembling. There was about him a demeanor she had never before seen. An intensity that frightened her. She prayed he was not going to tell her that he and Mr. Appleton were meeting at dawn.

The very thought had her stomach roiling. She could not ignore the anger she had seen on Jonathan's beloved face when he spoke to Mr. Appleton. Could Glee be right about the source of his anger? Could Mary Arbuckle possibly be the cause of that fury? Even if it would make her appear conceited, she felt compelled to address the matter. "Pray, Mr. Blankenship, are you out of charity with Mr. Appleton?"

"I hate to even hear that vile man's name upon your lips." They had reached the Octagon, but few others shared it with them since it was so early in the evening's proceedings. It was much quieter here. He stopped. Candlelight from a wall sconce just above his head cast light on his mahogany hair. It struck her that the dark hair was the only physical trait he and his brother shared. Jonathan was less tall, and to others he might appear less handsome. But not to her. She could never tire of Jonathan's patrician face that bespoke his intelligent mind.

He took both her hands in his. "I must beg that you not see that man. He is unfit for you."

She knew Glee would scorn her, but Mary Arbuckle could no longer portray herself as something she wasn't. Her heart fluttering madly because Jonathan was holding her hands, she spoke. "You are right. We would never suit, Mr. Appleton and me."

His green eyes widened. "Is there another man with whom you would suit?"

She drew in a deep breath and prepared herself for possible humiliation, for the possibility that what she was about to declare could effectively terminate their friendship.

It was a risk she must take.

"There has ever been only one man to whom I am suited. Surely you know that."

A stab of fear flinched across his angular face. "I hope you're speaking of me." His hands tightened.

"Only you. Please do not deny what we both know."

His mouth softened into a smile. "I've denied it for too long when it should have been as apparent as the nose upon my face. I have always been happiest when I am with you."

His simmering gaze heated her very blood.

She swallowed hard. "Me, too."

"I've been wretched all week, worrying you would marry a man not worthy of you. Then it finally occurred to me that I could be your husband. Oh, my dear Mary, I'm begging for your hand in marriage."

Her eyes watered, and she vigorously nodded. "That is what I've always wanted." It occurred to her that she was indebted to Glee for this moment. Would it ever have come without Glee's scheme?

"I've a deuced strong desire to kiss you," he said huskily.

She nodded. How she would love to feel his lips upon hers!

"But as this is a most public place, I would never do anything that would sully your good name." He sighed. "I just had a stupendous thought."

"What, my love?"

Love shone in his eyes when he looked at her. "Your name will soon be Blankenship. You've made me very happy."

"Me, too."

"I feel as if I'm an uncaged bird. I don't want to go back into the ballroom. We have much to discuss, plans to be made, my dearest Mary." He leaned toward her until their foreheads bumped. "I will claim my beloved for the last waltz."

"I should like to feel myself in your arms."

"Oh, God, Mary."

* * *

In the coach ride home from the Assembly Rooms, Jonathan and Mary held hands. "I know this will come as no surprise to you two," Jonathan said to Gregory and Glee, "But Mary has made me the happiest man in the kingdom by consenting to become my wife."

Glee began to squeal. "I am ever so happy! I knew you two loved each other!"

"I think everyone knew it except Jonathan," Gregory said.

"I declare, I never saw two people so well suited. When will you marry?"

Jonathan pressed his lips to Mary's gloved hand. "As soon as my brother purchases us a house." He turned to his betrothed. "Your mother may reside with us, if she would like, love."

It seemed incredible what a difference one day made. He had never felt lonelier than he had the previous night; now, he was bursting with happiness, now that he would have his very own family. He was anxious to introduce Mary to Mama. Mama would have to love her.

"We shall start looking tomorrow," Gregory said. "Even if it is Christmas Eve."

"I shall need the coach. I mean to look for presents for  . . . Archie and his mother . . . and perhaps someone else," Glee said.

Jonathan knew Glee wanted to get something for his mother.

"You leave Archie's present to me," Gregory said. "I have something in mind."

When the coach pulled up in front of the Arbuckle's house, Jonathan disembarked, then turned back to help Mary down. Arm in arm, they strolled to the door.

"I don't want this night to be over with," she said. "I don't want to part from you."

"Soon, love, we'll be together. Forever."

They both climbed the pair of steps, then faced each other. He drew her into his arms and lowered his lips to capture hers for a breathless, incredibly satisfying kiss. Nothing had ever stirred him so profoundly.

When he finished thoroughly kissing the woman who owned his heart, he said, "When we marry, I should like for you to wear that yellow dress. But only for me. I shouldn't like any other man gawking at your . . . well, surely you know of what jiggly bits I refer to."

"Only you," she murmured.

* * *

When they entered the home on Queen Square, the drawing room was ablaze with bright lights. "What the devil?" Gregory said, striding to the chamber.

And there stood his step-mother.

Jonathan watched as Gregory froze. "I expect you could not bear to not share Christmas with your son."

"With both my sons," she said somberly. "Please, Gregory, forgive me. I know it's no excuse, but my mistreatment of you—which I can finally own up to—was because I was so insanely jealous of your mother. Your father may have remarried quickly after her death, but his heart always belonged to your mother. And because you looked like her, I took it out upon you." She stepped toward Gregory. "Can you ever forgive me?"

Overcome with powerful emotions, Gregory merely nodded. He crossed the room and drew her into his arms. "Thank you for coming. This is the happiest Christmas of my life."

Later, Jonathan moved to his mother and embraced her. "This is undoubtedly the best Christmas I've ever had. It is my pleasure to tell you, Mama, that I have become betrothed."

She squeezed him most affectionately. "I do hope you've asked Miss Arbuckle to be your wife."

"How did you know about Miss Arbuckle?"

"I have known for a very long time that you were in love with her. Pray, son, what did it take to force you to make a declaration?" She gave him a cocky smile.

His gaze flicked to Glee. "I believe I owe Glee a very great debt of gratitude."

Jonathan was out of charity with his brother. "I don't see why I have to apologize to Appleton. I'm still angry that he was engaging in a flirtation with my future wife at the same time as he was cavorting with the likes of Mrs. Vale!"

"Glee will want to murder me for telling you this, but I think my wife asked Appleton to pay special attention to Miss Arbuckle in order to awaken your own desire for the lady."

"That was a wicked thing to do!"

"Are you not excessively happy today?"

"I am. I've never been happier." The only thing that could make him happier was to have his dear Mary beside him right now.

"Then you are indebted to my wife and her scheming—though I will own Appleton did admit that he found Miss Arbuckle
bang up to scratch
."

The coach pulled up to Appleton House.
I must repress any desire to slam a fist into that man's face
, Jonathan told himself as he climbed from the coach.

They were soon face-to-face with Appleton, who was holding a small dog. He stiffened when he saw Jonathan.

"I have come to offer my apologies," Jonathan said, "for my unpardonable behavior. I could not tolerate that another man was paying addresses to the woman I plan to wed."

Appleton's thin face brightened. "I say, old thing, felicitations and all that to you both. She's a fine lady."

That wasn't so bad. "Thank you."

"Now, we shall take that pup off your hands," Gregory said.

Appleton affectionately ruffled the fur on the dog's neck. "I know the lad will be happy with it."

Jonathan's brows hiked. "Is not little Gregory too small for a pup?"

"Oh, this isn't for my son. It's for young Archie." It was impossible for Gregory to prevent a note of pride from slipping into his voice whenever he said
my son
.

"Ah, the urchin's Christmas present!" Jonathan said. "What lad wouldn't love a furry little beast to call his own?"

Gregory nodded. "Especially a lad who's never had anything—not even a home. At present, Glee's having a small bed moved into the mother's chamber so their little family can be together at Christmas. Like ours."

"Yes. Like ours."

* * *

She knew she was going to see Jonathan on Christmas Day. He had promised to call on her so they could go together to the morning church service, and she had already planned what she would wear. She would wear one of her old dresses. To please him.

But how would she make it through this Christmas Eve without seeing him? No day had ever seemed longer. It was nearly four in the afternoon—and nearly dark, which was customary this time of the year.

As she sat by the lamp table in the drawing room rereading his unfinished essay for the tenth time, there was a knock upon the front door. Since their two servants were free of duties on Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, she went to answer the knock herself. It could not be Jonathan because she had heard no carriage wheels in the street.

There stood Jonathan. Even though he was dressed warmly in a great coat and muffler and thick leather gloves, he looked as if he were freezing. His cheeks and nose were so red with cold, she feared he would suffer frost bite. Her eyes widened with concern. "You walked?"

"Are you not going to invite me in?"

"Oh, my dearest! You'll take your death of cold. Please, come in."

After closing the door to the harsh winter elements, he divested himself of his outer garments. Then she noticed he set down a bag. "Come, love, and stand by the fire," she said.

They went to the drawing room, strode to the fireplace, and faced each other, his heated gaze lazily moving to her
jiggly bits
, which
were
more prominent in this dress, another she had received from Sally Sedgewick.

"I have a desire to take you in my arms and kiss a path to those lovely shoulders." His eyes held hers with intensity.

"The door is closed."

He then did exactly what he'd spoken of, and she thought she had never enjoyed anything so much. Thank God for Sally's dresses! They had certainly brought out the man in him.

And the woman in her.

When he finished, he took her hand. "I have what I hope may be good news."

Her brows arched.

"I've a special license, and the vicar has promised to marry us the day after Christmas. Our wedding trip shall be to Sutton Manor—which we will have all to ourselves."

"That is wonderful news!"

"If you do not mind, my mother—who has come from Sutton Manor—has offered to take our list of desires and find us a house here in Bath whilst we honeymoon."

"I have only one desire, and I think you must know what that is."

"Oh, god, Mary, how am I to stand waiting for two more days?" His gaze went from her to the hearth where he had placed the bag. "I must think of something else, or I'll go mad with want."

He reached down and lifted the bag.

"What is that?" she asked.

"It's your Christmas present."

Her face collapsed. "But I have nothing for you."

"How can you say that? You've given me the most precious of all gifts. And when you see your present, you'll know how much your gift is also a present to me."

Her brows lowered. "What can you mean?"

"Let us sit upon the sofa."

They sat very close together, then he reached into the bag and withdrew a slender book bound in soft green leather.

"Oh, you're giving me a printed copy of your essays! How delightful." She took it, eagerly opened up to the title page, and she went deadly still as her eye ran along the printing, then teared up. "It's not your writings."

"No, love. As I prepared to go to the printers, I realized how conceited I must appear. Then I knew that out of my love for you—which I was still not fully aware of—I must have
your
poems bound. I should like to share you and your incredible talent with the world. I've sent a copy to a London publisher, and I had enough copies made to present them to members of our respective families as Christmas gifts."

She did not want to bawl in front of him, but she could not help it. No one had ever done anything for her in her entire life. Only Mama had ever given her a Christmas gift. Nothing could have affected her more profoundly. There in black and white read
The Golden Bough and Other Poems by Mary Arbuckle
.

She flung her arms around him and wept into his fine woolen coat.

* * *

As he and Mary were leaving the church on Christmas morning, Jonathan glimpsed Archie on the back row. But where was the lad's mother? He hoped to God she hadn't not availed herself of the holiday to get a nip of gin. When they drew abreast of the lad, Jonathan was stunned to realize the woman beside Archie
was
his mother. Layers of grime had been removed from her skin to reveal a complexion nearly as pretty as Mary's ivory skin, with a hint of rose upon the woman's cheeks. Even the woman's hair was clean and tidily arranged. He recalled that Glee had bought her a new cloak for Christmas, and she must be excessively fond of it for she'd worn the blue woolen cape-like thing all through the Christmas service.

What a lovely Christmas this was proving to be!

A short time later he and Mary, along with Mrs. Arbuckle and his own mother, were greeting Thomas and Felicity Moreland and Lord and Lady Sedgewick at Winston Hall. Children were scurrying all about. His precious little niece was thrilled to be with her Moreland cousins. The fact that all three of them were male in no way prevented her from following them about.

Glee had spread out a blanket for the babies to crawl up. Sedgewick's older son and daughter were down on their knees playing with their new twin siblings. The twins—a boy and girl—looked nothing like each other, but each looked remarkably like their elder brother, who was a miniature version of his blond and burly father.

Though Glee had desired that baby Gregory crawl with his cousins, Jonathan's mother was reluctant to have the babe removed from her lap. Jonathan had never known his mother could act so foolish. She kept remarking on how strong was the family resemblance. "I see your dear Papa's face in the little darling," she said. More than once.

Later, whilst they were sitting in the Moreland's opulent dinner room eating the Christmas goose from heavily gilded plates beneath a row of sparkling chandeliers, a heavy knock sounded at the front door. Thomas got to his feet. "I've given most of the servants a Christmas holiday. Allow me to get the door."

A moment later, he returned, a letter in this hand. "A special messenger brought this for Sedgewick."

Lord Sedgewick's brows lowered when Moreland handed it to him.

Why would someone send a special messenger on Christmas Day? What could be so bloody important, Jonathan wondered. All conversation ceased as all eyes went to Sedgewick. When he finished reading, he shook his head in bewilderment as he handed the letter to his wife.

"Pray, what is it?" Felicity asked. "Is everything all right?"

"Indeed it is," a stunned Sedgewick said. "This may very well be my best Christmas ever."

The man already had a wife he loved most potently and four lovely children. What else could a man want, Jonathan wondered.

Sally Sedgewick erupted into tears, burying her face in her hands, her husband drawing her into his chest. "There now, love. Everything will be wonderful from now on."

"You must tell us," Felicity demanded.

George Pembroke, the Earl of Sedgewick, regarded his elder sister. "It's a letter from Mr. Johnson's solicitor with specific instructions that it be delivered to me on Christmas Day."

"Not
that
Mr. Johnson? Evil Becky Johnson's papa?" Felicity asked.

Sedgewick nodded grimly. "It seems that Mr. Johnson intends to leave me his entire fortune to make restitution for the wrongs committed to me by his daughter."

Lady Sedgewick still had not pulled herself together, and her husband was most concerned. "It is all right, love."

"I know. I'm just overcome," she whimpered.

"I heard Mr. Johnson was in Bath to take the waters because he's been very ill," Felicity said.

"And he was awfully old when his only child was born. He must be at least seventy," Glee added.

"Well, I'm going to wish him continued good health," George said.

Lady Sedgewick's calm was soon restored, and the meal resumed.

"My dear brother-in-law has an announcement to make," Glee said, eying Jonathan, mirth flashing in those vivid green eyes of hers.

Everyone turned to him. He cleared his throat, flashed a smile at Mary, then said, "Miss Arbuckle and I should like to request your presence at the church tomorrow morning. For our wedding." He looked lovingly down at her. "Mary has done me the goodness to consent to be my wife."

Felicity Moreland squealed with delight. "I've been expecting that announcement for years since we all knew you two were perfect for one another."

Lord Sedgewick and Thomas Moreland both left their seats and came to shake Jonathan's hand. "I hope you'll be as happy as Felicity and I," Moreland said.

Lord Sedgewick smiled down upon him as he offered his sturdy handshake. "Felicitations, old boy. I cannot recommend marriage too enthusiastically."

"Now practically every one of our friends will be happily wed," Felicity said.

"There's Appleton," Glee said dryly. "We shall have to find a nice girl for him."

"And for Sir Elvin," Lady Sedgewick added.

"Oh, my goodness! I forgot to tell you," Felicity said. "I got a message last night from Catherine Steffington telling me she was uncommonly happy to announce that yesterday she was delivered of a beautiful baby boy!"

All at once, Felicity was barraged with questions. What did they name the babe? How was Catherine getting along? Was Melvin a proud papa?

Jonathan found himself a bit envious of his old friend Melvin Steffington. Jonathan realized he would enjoy having a son of his own. A son of his and Mary's. He looked up from his plate, feasting his eyes on Mary's sweet profile.

She turned to him, her eyelids shyly downcast.

He lowered his voice to just a whisper, a whisper no one save his beloved could hear. "I should like us to have a child by next Christmas."

Beneath the table, their hands met. He squeezed hers most lovingly, as he watched her pretty brown eyes moistening. "Will I sound bold if I say I should love it above all things to oblige you?"

"Not one of your beautiful poems could sound any lovelier to my ears, dearest."

THE END

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A Christmas In Bath
.
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