Married by Christmas Read online

  Married by Christmas: A Regency Christmas Romance

  by

  Isabella Hargreaves

  Married by Christmas

  Published by Isabella Hargreaves

  Copyright ©Isabella Hargreaves 2020

  Cover by DesignRans

  Cover Images used under license from Shutterstock, Period Images

  Editing by Hot Tree Editing

  ISBN 978-0-6481968-3-9

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Except for use in any review, no part of this book may be used, reproduced, or transmitted in whole or in part, in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of the author.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Acknowledgements

  What readers are saying about Isabella Hargreaves

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  About Isabella Hargreaves

  Sign up for Isabella Hargreaves's Mailing List

  Further Reading: Runaway Christmas Bride

  Also By Isabella Hargreaves

  Acknowledgements

  This story would not exist without the support of: Kendall Talbot and Leesa Bow who

  strongly encouraged me to write it; Brian Sinclair, my sounding board and first reader; my

  fabulous writing group buddies who critiqued the story—Claire Austen, Sheila Grice, Tania Hutley, Tania Joyce, Sylvia Marson, and Kendall Talbot; and my editor, Olivia Ventura, from Hot Tree Editing. You have my heartfelt thanks.

  This story is written using US English spelling conventions.

  What readers are saying about Isabella Hargreaves

  Runaway Christmas Bride – Winner (joint) of the Romance Writers of New Zealand Koru Award (novella), 2018

  The Jade Keepsake – Winner of the Romance Writers of Australia Little Gems short story

  competition, 2018

  The Persuasion of Miss Jane Brody – Finalist in the Romance Writers of New Zealand Koru Award (short and sweet novel), 2014

  The Persuasion of Miss Jane Brody – Finalist in the Australian Romance Readers Association awards (Historical Romance), 2014

  The Persuasion of Miss Jane Brody – Finalist in the Chantelier awards (Historical Romance), 2014

  The Persuasion of Miss Jane Brody – Finalist in the Steam eReads, ‘Some Like it Hot’ romance competition, 2013

  Lord Muck and Lady Alice: “This is another wonderful book by Ms. Hargreaves. She has such a delightful way of telling a story. With words, she brings the characters of James and Alice to life, writing a sweet tale of humor and love. This one will surely make you smile!” [Teri Donaldson, Amazon.com, May 20, 2018.]

  “I love all of Isabella Hargreaves work.... She has a real strength for making the reader care about the characters in just a few pages, and the historical detail is very well done.” [Happy Reader, Amazon.com, July 9, 2017]

  “Snowed in For Christmas is a beautifully written short story. This is my first book of Isabella's and she has proved that she is an extraordinary master story teller who has not only done her homework of the background very well, but has also brought all the characters to life. I would love to read her next book.” [Neera Sawhney, Amazon.com, November 27, 2016.]

  https://BookHip.com/KAWBMC

  Chapter One

  London, 20 December, 1818

  Lauren Edwards gathered her paisley shawl around her, slipped her aunt Hester’s spaniel from her lap, and stepped down from her uncle’s carriage onto the pavement outside Madame Lemaire’s dress shop on Bond Street. Her aunt followed.

  Just days before Christmas, the street was teeming with Britain’s social elite, eager to purchase the best of everything. If Lauren didn’t have an appointment for the last fitting of her bridal gown, she wouldn’t choose to be here amongst such a crowd. By far she preferred the peace of the countryside rather than London at its busiest.

  In the doorway of the dress shop stood a beautiful blonde woman dressed in the height of fashion—red redingote edged with white fur, her bonnet a masterpiece of floral ornamentation and her white fur muff covering one hand. Her other hand rested in the crooked arm of a gentleman who held open the door for her.

  Instead of exiting, her escort tugged her back into the empty foyer of the dress shop, pulled her into his arms, and kissed her. The kiss was not an affectionate peck on her cheek or even a buss on her mouth, but a complete ravishment of her lips.

  Lauren halted before the open doorway, stunned by the passionate scene before her. A gasp escaped her mouth before she could stop it. Her stomach froze colder than an ice from Gunthers.

  The man was very familiar to her.

  And why wouldn’t he be?

  He was the Earl of Lulworth, her fiancé.

  Lauren’s hand clapped over her mouth to stop the scream welling in her lungs from bursting forth.

  Was this his mistress? She hadn’t known he had one. Had never suspected!

  The frozen lump in her midriff expanded.

  Aunt Hester tugged at her elbow, trying to haul Lauren’s leaden body into the crowd and away from the scene.

  No! Lauren shook her off, stretched out a trembling hand, and pushed the door open wider.

  The amorous couple leaped apart.

  Lulworth recognized her. His jaw dropped, and his face flushed.

  His astounded look might have made her laugh at another time; now, she just wanted this scene over. “I presume this woman is your mistress?” Her voice was a forced whisper. Good Lord, how could she get the words out at all?

  “Ha! And what of it?” He drew the woman to his side and raised his chin to peer down his nose at Lauren with all the haughtiness a peer of the realm could display.

  Aunt Hester dragged at Lauren’s arm. She shook her off again without lowering her gaze from Lulworth’s frigid gray eyes. “And do you have any intention of giving up your liaison with her?”

  The woman in question tittered with brazen confidence. Her eyes alight with amusement, she slid her hand back into the crook of Lulworth’s arm.

  His bark of laughter joined his mistress’s merriment. “I have none! If you think I will give up the woman I adore at your request, you are very much mistaken.”

  Lauren closed her eyes, blanking the smirking couple from her sight as she attempted to gather her cascading thoughts. Bubbling up through the shock of this revelation were sparkling globes of relief, hope, and hysterical joy. She would not have to marry him after all!

  Lauren opened her eyes to find the couple circling around her to exit the shop. “Consider our engagement ended, Lulworth,” she blurted before they could depart.

  Lulworth flicked a glance at her before sharing a long look with her aunt. “I think not, Miss Edwards.” He didn’t meet her gaze again.

  Lauren turned to her aunt in time to see her nod in agreement with Lulworth’s words.

  Without waiting for Lauren to reply, he escorted his amore from the shop.

  “What do you mean by agreeing with him, Aunt? I can’t marry him now!”

  “You can and you must!” Aunt Hester’s shrill voice sent shivers of horror through Lauren’s veins.

  “He has refused to give up his mistress and we aren’t even married yet!”

  “You should not have confronted him. Like many aristocratic wives, you will have to look the other way, Lauren. That is the price one pays for a title. You should know that.”

  What? She had hoped affection between the
m would have grown in time, but now she saw that was impossible. Dread settled in her stomach at the thought of her loveless future as Lulworth’s wife. She could not be trapped in such a marriage. Surely her family would not demand that of her? “Do I have no say in the matter?” Lauren asked, incredulous.

  Her aunt’s hissed answer couldn’t have been harsher. “None whatsoever. Your three guardians have decided that you are to marry Lulworth, and you shall. It is too late now to withdraw. The contracts are signed. The church is booked. All the ton will be in attendance. You will marry Lulworth. Our family’s future relies on it!”

  Her aunt pivoted to greet Madame Lemaire, who finally must have realized they had arrived for Lauren’s fitting.

  Numb from the shock of her aunt’s pronouncement, Lauren allowed the dressmaker to push and prod her as she finished fitting the wedding dress. Lauren barely heard a word said to her. Hardly noticed the pinpricks on her skin. All she could think was that she would be trapped in a bleak future unless she could find some way to convince her two uncles and Sir Oliver that she must not be consigned to a life of misery with an unloving and adulterous husband.

  Had her uncles or her aunt ever cared about her? They had sent her to boarding school soon after her father’s death, claiming that was what he had wanted for her. Nor had they visited her during term or brought her home for holidays, because there was no room for an extra girl in her uncle and aunt’s house, already full with their six daughters and four sons.

  The only person who had visited her during her six years at boarding school in Bath was her third guardian, Sir Oliver. He had been her father’s best friend and best man at her parents’ wedding. Once a term he visited Bath to take her for afternoon tea in one of the tea shops on the high street and asked her questions about herself and her studies.

  Toward the end of term, a letter always came from her aunt to say that she would be unable to accommodate Lauren for the holiday. Instead, each term concluded with Sir Oliver arriving in Bath accompanied by Lauren’s former governess, Mrs. Mason—Maisie. He then drove them to Maisie’s cottage in St. Albans where Lauren spent all her holidays.

  As if Lauren had minded when she was with Maisie, the only woman who had loved and cared about her since her mother had died when she was an infant.

  The carriage ride home to her uncle’s house in one of London’s fashionable squares gave Lauren’s aunt another opportunity to express her views on a willful miss who, for her own selfish reasons, would not do her duty by her family—especially when the family had taken her in, had spared no expense on her education and her coming-out Season.

  Money, I believe, my father left to me in trust for just those purposes. Lauren had been a dutiful niece, never disputing her guardians’ wishes. She had at times suspected Sir Oliver disagreed with those directives but had been overruled by Lauren’s uncles by weight of numbers.

  “Surely my father would not wish me to marry a man under such circumstances?”

  Aunt Hester pursed her lips. “Indeed, he would. He was quite clear about his wishes.”

  Lauren stroked a hand over the spaniel Charlie’s soft head as he lay beside her on the leather seat. He wiggled closer. “May I discuss this with Sir Oliver?”

  “As you know, he is out of town and not expected back until the day before the wedding.”

  Yes, she had missed him these last four weeks.

  “Now it is time you repaid your family. You have six cousins who need titled husbands. As the Countess of Lulworth, you will be in a position to assist them. And their brothers will benefit from the associations those marriages forge. Do you understand your duty, Lauren?”

  I understand what you see as my duty, but I don’t agree. “Yes, Aunt Hester.” Mutiny burned in her heart. For now, until she could think things through, she must not display anything but compliance.

  Aunt Hester leaned forward and fixed her hard gaze on Lauren. “You will marry Lulworth on Christmas Eve, and without a single complaint to Sir Oliver. Your uncles are in agreement that this marriage will be the making of our family. We will no longer be merely wealthy, but our daughters and grandchildren will have titles as well. What a wonderful Christmas gift to your family.” She clasped her hands together and smiled at Lauren with all the warmth of a snake eyeing a small mouse.

  Lauren bowed her head to stare at her hands clasped in her lap. “Yes, Aunt.” No, Aunt.

  With a brisk nod, Aunt Hester said, “Good, I’m glad we have been able to come to an agreement.”

  Lauren understood her situation completely now, and her future stretched clearly before her. There was nothing more she could say to her aunt to change her mind... but perhaps she could appeal to her uncles’ goodwill? Although she feared their response.

  Their carriage drew up before Uncle Augustus’s town house, and a liveried footman pulled down the step. Her aunt moved to exit first.

  “If you wouldn’t mind, Aunt, after all the excitement of this morning’s fitting, I will take luncheon in my room.” She massaged her temples. “I have a fearful headache and would like to rest this afternoon.”

  She must have sounded genuine, because her aunt gave a nod of approval and lifted Charlie from the seat. “Yes, of course. The next few days will be busy with preparations for your wedding. You must appear at your best. We don’t want anyone saying you look anything but a happy bride.”

  Of course not, appearances are so much more important to you than my feelings about the marriage. Lauren gave the weak smile of someone with a nagging headache. “Thank you, Aunt.”

  Once in the house, Lauren trailed Aunt Hester up the marble grand staircase. Not a twig of Christmas greenery softened the elegant but stark décor of her uncle’s house.

  As they approached the sitting room opposite the top of the staircase, its double doors opened to reveal Lauren’s uncles, Augustus and Lionel—her father’s older brothers.

  “There you are, my love,” Aunt Hester greeted her husband, a tubby middle-aged man with hard eyes, a grim mouth, and too-long hair brushed forward over his balding pate. She dipped her chin to Lionel. “Good morning, brother.”

  Younger than Augustus by a couple of years, Lionel’s softer features and full head of hair gave him a kindly look, diminished somewhat by his bulbous, drink-ravaged nose.

  Her courage lapsing, Lauren turned left to head upstairs to her room, to avoid an interview with her guardians.

  “Come here, Lauren, and explain to your uncles why you don’t think you can marry Lulworth.” Her aunt’s command halted her.

  “What?” Uncle Augustus’s response shot out like the crack of a pistol.

  Uncle Lionel looked at her and shook his head. “Just nerves, I’m sure. Perfectly understandable—”

  “Come inside and explain yourself, girl,” Uncle Augustus demanded.

  A shudder ran down Lauren’s spine. Finding her husband unexpectedly home, Aunt Hester wasn’t going to miss the opportunity to make Lauren account for herself. She took three unsteady steps into the room.

  Her aunt closed the doors behind her.

  Lauren swallowed against her constricted throat. She didn’t want to face interrogation by the three of them. She just wanted to go to her room and think.

  “Hurry up, girl. Explain yourself!” Uncle Augustus snapped.

  Lauren took a deep breath. “I... I encountered Lulworth with his mistress at Madame Lemaire’s,” she said with her gaze fixed on the floor. “He spoke to me with such contempt. I do not wish to marry him. I could never be happy with such a man.”

  Uncle Augustus’s bark of laughter sent a flinch across her shoulders. She glanced up to see Uncle Lionel looking vaguely distressed. Her aunt smirked.

  “Is that all?” Uncle Augustus demanded. “I’d be mighty surprised if he didn’t have a mistress. As you should be, young lady. This is no time for missish behavior! Most gentlemen have mistresses at some time or other. Ladies turn the other cheek and overlook such things. You will have to learn that les
son.”

  “But Uncle, he was so very rude to me. He doesn’t care about me at all.” Why don’t you care about my future happiness? Why do I mean so little to you?

  “He cares enough to marry you. To make you the mother of his heirs. That’s all you need to worry about!” The brick-red tint of his face warned her not to provoke his temper any further if she didn’t want to bear the consequences she had heard meted out to his servants.

  He cares precisely enough to marry me for my dowry, more like. Lauren closed her eyes against the tears that threatened to flow.

  Uncle Lionel strode over to her and put an arm around her shoulders. Lauren tensed. In a soft voice he said, “My dear gel, marriage to Lulworth is a great honor. You will have all that wealth can provide—beautiful clothes, ample pin money, and access to high society. What more could you want?”

  Lauren choked on a sob. “I want a happy home and a loving husband. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Don’t be impertinent!” Uncle Augustus roared.

  Her aunt snorted a laugh, a satisfied twinkle in her eye.

  Uncle Lionel patted Lauren’s shoulder. “There, there. The contracts are signed. All is organized for your wedding. It must go ahead, my dear. Withdrawal now would mar our family’s name. It cannot happen. Think of all the wonderful positives of this match and forget your husband’s infidelities. That is your duty.” His calculating eyes belied his smiling face.

  It was hopeless. Nothing she could say would change their minds. Lauren stifled her tears. “Yes, Uncle. Thank you. I see my duty now.”

  “Good, good.” There was his meaningless pat on her shoulder again. “I knew you would see reason, like a dutiful niece. You will be married by Christmas, how exciting!”

  “I should think so,” Uncle Augustus said.

  “Ungrateful girl,” her aunt muttered. “You are excused from dinner this evening. After this morning’s revelation, I have much to discuss with your uncles. A tray will be sent up to you.”

  Lauren hurried from the room and along the mezzanine to the stairs to her bedroom on the next floor. As soon as she was out of sight of her aunt, she dashed up the staircase. Her room was closest to the landing, where the most foot traffic passed, while her family’s rooms enjoyed quieter situations.