Christmas Carol (5 page)

“Good evening, Lady Augusta.” This salutation
elicited raised eyebrows from the woman at the dressing table.

“In this house, during this time,” said Lady
Augusta, “you would be better advised to call me Aunt Augusta.
Everyone you know will begin to wonder if you do not.”

“Are you who I think you are?” Carol
demanded. “Because if you are, I have to tell you that I am
beginning to lose patience with this game you are playing.”

“What seems to be the problem, Carol?”

At the use of her real name, Carol let out a
breath of relief. Then she got angry.

“How dare you set me down all alone, without
any preparation, with a girl who thinks I am her sister? If I
didn’t have sense enough to keep quiet and listen instead of
telling everything I know, that poor girl would be scared out of
her wits about now. How do you think she would react if I claimed
to be the victim of a sadistic trick played by a ghost?”

“But you did not frighten her by telling the
truth, did you? I wonder why. Could it be that you felt a faint
glimmer of sisterly tenderness toward her?”

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Carol responded.
“She’s nothing to me. By the way, what is her name? And why did she
keep calling me Caroline?”

“If she means nothing to you,” said Lady
Augusta, “then why do you care what her name is?”

“You brought me here against my will,” Carol
said, “and apparently you have given me a new identity. I am
wearing clothes that look like something a character in a Jane
Austen novel would wear, and a girl who claims to be my sister
tells me that tonight is my big engagement party. I don’t even know
who my fiance is supposed to be! If you don’t want me to make some
dreadful mistake in public that will embarrass you and that poor
girl down the hall, then you had better provide a bit more
information.”

“Shall I wear the rubies or the sapphires
tonight?” asked Lady Augusta. “I originally thought the sapphires
with this deep blue dress, but I have no wish to outshine you on
your special night. Your necklace is quite remarkable, isn’t it? I
remember when Montfort’s late mother used to wear it. Did you know
that she was one of my best friends?”

“No.” Carol gritted her teeth in
exasperation. “I did not know. How could I?”

“Well?” Lady Augusta held up two necklaces,
one glittering with rubies and diamonds, the other a heavy gold
chain boasting three large sapphires set in gold with diamonds
around each stone. “Which do you think?”

“Wear the damned sapphires. Just tell me what
I need to know to avoid making a fool of myself at this ball I am
expected to attend. Or better yet, send me back where I am supposed
to be.”

“You are entirely too impatient,” said Lady
Augusta. She held first one, then the other necklace up to her
throat, testing the effect of each in her dressing table mirror. “I
do believe you are right. Very well, it shall be the sapphires.”
She fastened the necklace, then rose and approached Carol.

“At the moment, you
are
exactly where
you are supposed to be,” said Lady Augusta. “The year is 1818. You
are living in Marlowe House as it was at that time.”

“Who am I?” snapped Carol.

“You are Lady Caroline Hyde. Your younger
sister is Lady Penelope. You two have always been remarkably close,
and have grown closer still since the death of your parents in a
carriage accident four years ago. As your aunt, I have seen to your
education since that time, and have sponsored you in society.
Though at four and twenty years of age you are considered a little
old for such good fortune, you have succeeded in making one of the
great matches of the year. You are to wed Nicholas Marlowe, the
Earl of Montfort, who, incidentally, is a distant cousin of my late
husband.”

“Is he any relation to the Nicholas Montfort
who is your nephew?” Carol asked, her full attention caught by the
repetition of the same name.

“Who
will be
my nephew in the next
century,” Lady Augusta corrected. “My future nephew is a direct
descendant of Lord Montfort.”

“Then these people you have been telling me
about are all real.” Carol paused to think for a moment before
continuing. “Does this mean that you and I are inhabiting the
bodies of other people? If we are, then where are the personalities
of those people now? Have you hurt this Lady Caroline in any way?
Or her Aunt Augusta?”

“While we are in this time, you and Lady
Caroline, and I and the earlier Lady Augusta, are one and the same.
You need have no fear for their safety. The One who sent me on this
mission will allow no harm to come to either woman through us.
However, the emotions you experience will be entirely your own.
That is, after all, the purpose or this visit to the past—to stir
up emotions long dead in you, to raise feelings you never knew you
possessed.”

“This whole arrangement strikes me as highly
immoral,” Carol insisted, unappeased by an explanation that made
little sense to her practical mind. “Couldn’t I ruin Lady
Caroline’s life by doing something stupid that would make her
fiance decide he doesn’t want to marry her after all?”

“Have no fear on that score. Montfort will
not break off the engagement,” said Lady Augusta. “Nor, while you
are here, will you be able to alter the overall course of history
in any way unless you reveal that you are from the future.”

“Are you sure about that?” Carol demanded,
recalling a science-fiction novel she had once read that involved
creating major changes in the future by making the most minute
changes in the past.

“Absolutely,” said Lady Augusta. “Though I am
pleased to hear you voicing concern about the lives of people you
do not yet know, I assure you that all you have to do is say
nothing about your true origin, keep your eyes and ears and, most
important of all, your heart open, and go with the flow.”

“Go with—?” Carol broke off with a surprised
laugh. “Now, there’s a phrase I never dreamed I’d hear from
you.”

“Yes, it is, isn’t it?” Lady Augusta looked
pleased with herself for a moment, before she turned businesslike
once more. “Listen carefully, Carol, for there is a great deal you
need to know before the ball begins, and Penelope may join us at
any moment. You will find the house somewhat different. The
original Marlowe House is twice as large as the one you know. It
was remodeled after the Second World War and turned into two houses
so one of them could be rented.” There followed a barrage of
information on the Marlowe and Montfort families as they were in
the early nineteenth century, along with a list of the rigid rules
of etiquette at that time.

“You can’t possibly expect me to remember all
of this,” Carol cried after ten minutes or so.

“If you become confused, I suggest that you
take a deep breath, relax, and let Lady Caroline’s instincts guide
you,” Lady Augusta advised.

“This is crazy,” Carol protested. “You know
that, don’t you?”

“It all seems perfectly simple to me.” This
was said with airy complacency as Lady Augusta turned back to her
mirror to don sapphire earrings that matched her necklace. A gold
and sapphire bracelet followed, worn over her long white gloves.
Holding out her arms, she spun around to face Carol again. “How do
I look? I do so love the clothing designs of this period. A high
Empire waistline can disguise those unpleasant problems of
expansion about the midriff that all middle-aged women inevitably
develop.”

“You sure don’t act like someone who is
desperately trying to save her soul. I think you are actually
enjoying this!” Carol surveyed the tall, slender figure garbed in
deep blue. The twinkle in Lady Augusta’s eyes effectively softened
the harsh words that Carol might have spoken—indeed felt she had a
right to speak, considering what was being done to her against her
will. “You look very nice. Your hair is a different color now. It’s
not so gray. It’s more salt and pepper. Lady Augusta—I mean, Aunt
Augusta—are you sure I won’t make some idiotic mistake
tonight?”

“I have every confidence in you, my dear.” At
the sound of a light tap on the bedroom door, Lady Augusta looked
over Carol’s shoulder. “Ah, here is Penelope now. You are late,
miss. Shall we go down? Our guests will soon begin arriving.”

As they trooped down the stairs, Carol could
see what Lady Augusta had meant when she said Marlowe House was
different. The entrance hall, with its black and white marble
checkerboard floor, was twice as large as Carol remembered. Off to
one side of the hall was a reception room, which was entered
through a wide, arched doorway that did not exist during Carol’s
twentieth-century years in the house. Beyond this reception room
lay the ballroom, a glittering splendor of cream walls, gold-leaf
trim, mirrors, and chandeliers decorated with holiday greenery and
blazing with hundreds of fine wax candles. Gilt chairs lined the
walls to provide seating for the chaperones and for those not
dancing. The parquet wood floor was waxed and polished to a
brilliant shine.

Double doors at the back of the ballroom
opened into a grand dining room, where a late supper would be
served. Another room was set up with small tables for card games.
Next to the dining room, in the section of the house that Carol
knew well, the library offered a quiet retreat for anyone weary of
the crowd. A large walled garden lay behind the house.

Gazing around this earlier version of the
mansion, Carol understood why the upstairs hall was unfamiliar to
her. Lady Caroline’s bedroom belonged to this other half of the
building, and in Carol’s own time it was no longer a part of
Marlowe House.

“What a pity it had to be changed,”’ she said
softly.

“Taxes.” Lady Augusta’s equally low response
was crisp. “Death duties when my grandfather died. The intrusion of
the modern world on ancient privilege. As you say, a pity, and the
more so since my father later made a huge fortune that would have
allowed him to keep the house as it was. Still, at the end of the
twentieth century no one holds great balls anymore.” Raising her
voice, Lady Augusta added, “Caroline, I do believe your fiance is
arriving.”

“I can’t—I’m not ready—”

“Ready or not,” said Lady Augusta, “here he
is. Good evening, Nicholas.”

“My lady.” Nicholas Marlowe, Earl of
Mont-fort, bent over his hostess’s hand, then kissed her cheek.

“You ought to be doing that to Caroline
instead of to an old lady like me,” Lady Augusta told him, rapping
his arm with her closed fan.

“It will be a pleasure, ma’am.” Montfort
turned from Lady Augusta to Carol and fixed his sparkling green
eyes on her.

Carol nearly fainted from the impact. He was
tall, a broad-shouldered, slim-waisted man. His black evening
clothes were perfectly tailored in the severe style made popular by
Beau Brummell. His black, curly hair was cut short, his nose was
long and aristocratic, and his mouth looked made for laughing. Or
for kissing.

He took Carol’s gloved hand in his and bent
forward to kiss her cheek as Lady Augusta had commanded. Carol
caught a whiff of lime cologne.

“Will you please try to smile? I am not a
monster, you know,” he whispered into her ear. Through the spotless
white kid of his glove she felt the strength and the heat of his
fingers around hers. When he straightened, Carol stared back at
him, unable to speak.

“How romantic,” cried Penelope, her hands
clasped at her bosom. “My sensible older sister is struck dumb at
the sight of her true love.”

“Hello, Penny Sweet.’ Montfort grinned at
her. “I need not ask how my little sister-to-be is this evening.
Looking as you do, you will surely send all the young men into
veritable paroxysms of romantic passion.”

“Montfort,” snapped Lady Augusta as he
chucked the giggling Penelope under her chin, “I will thank you to
confine your attentions to my elder niece. Unless, of course, you
intend to set up a harem.”

“Oh, Aunt Augusta, what a shocking idea,”
cried Penelope, still laughing. “I am certain that Nicholas has
eyes only for Caroline.”

“For no one else, I promise you.” Nicholas
was drawing Carol’s hand through his elbow as he spoke. “I do
believe if I had proposed to you, Penny, instead of to your sister,
you would have broken my heart by refusing me. If I am not
mistaken, your affections are engaged by young Simmons, who, as I
understand it, plans to attend tonight with the express intention
of dancing the waltz with you.”

At this Penelope began to blush furiously,
but Montfort did not see it. His own attention was on Carol, and
she had the feeling that it was not because he was smitten with her
charms. There was something calculating in the way he regarded
her.

“Caroline, you seem somewhat distracted. Is
anything wrong?”

“I am just a little giddy with excitement.”
In fact, Carol was wondering exactly what this man’s feelings were
toward Lady Caroline Hyde. It was plain to her that he held Lady
Augusta in real affection, and his easy, teasing manner toward
Penelope revealed all the fondness of a much older
brother-in-law-to-be toward an innocent young girl, but Carol could
not make out what the relationship was between Lord Montfort and
Caroline. She wished that she had thought to ask Lady Augusta if
Caroline Hyde was an heiress—or if Montfort was rich.

“I am pleased to see you are wearing the
necklace I gave you.” Montfort’s eyes were on the pearls and the
sapphire clasp. Then his gaze moved lower, toward the deep neckline
of her gown, and Carol knew he was admiring the swell of her
breasts. She sensed a slight tremor in the muscular arm where her
fingers still rested. The involuntary motion communicated itself to
her and ran through her body so that she began to tremble.

Ye gods
, Carol thought,
what has
Lady Augusta gotten me into
?
How can I possibly resist this
man if he has decided that he wants to make love to his fiancee
before the wedding
?
Or are Montfort and Lady Caroline lovers
already
?
Why do I care
?
These people are nothing to
me
.