His Christmas Angel (A Regency Holiday Romance Book 8) (18 page)

Clarence slipped out of his own greatcoat and placed it around her shoulders. “Give me, Felix’s, Ann, it is far too large for you. You will drown in it.” She handed him the heavy coat, and then, Clarence climbed into the carriage. “Can you see Ann back to the house, Lucky?”

“Aye, and then, I shall return so we can have our merry bit of a jolly.” He looked to the distance and sighed. “I see more carriages and riders on the way. I hope they are friend, and not foe.”

“Get Ann back to the Hall where she will be safe,” Clarence said quickly.

Lucky gripped her arm, and pulled her along with him. She hastened to keep up with him, and kept glancing back at the carriage until the door shut. Clarence was alone with Lord Spaulding, and now…now, they were going to trap the devilish Sir Wilfrid. She almost wished she could stick around and watch it all unfold. She wanted to see the look on the pugnacious cretin’s face when he realized he was well and truly trapped.

“Tiny, I think you should let me put on Ann’s coat. You are far too big. Sir Wilfrid is never going to fall for it. You are a bloody giant. He would have to be a ruddy clodpole not to notice.”

“Trust me, mate, he will fall for it. The man’s arrogance is his biggest failure.”

“No, I don’t think he will.”

“Be quiet, and try to blend in with the background, eh? I can hear someone approaching.”

Clarence fell silent, as the door was whipped open. “We shall have to leave without me ridding myself of your husband, my sweet. He has absconded, and the ground is crawling with men that are friends of Lord Evesham. We must away at once, or we shall be discovered.”

Felix pushed the red hood of Anne’s cloak away from his face, and looked over at Sir Wilfrid. “About that I don’t think our relationship is going to make it. I am already promised to another.” The deep timbre of Felix’s voice boomed throughout the interior of the carriage. Felix pulled out his pistol, and leveled it at Sir Wilfrid.

Clarence felt like growling, “Your judgement day is at hand, Sir Wilfrid. You shall not harass my wife any longer. You are well and completely ruined.”

“Your bloody relative Edward Lovett ruined me. I thought he was a harmless gentlemen with a talent at making blunt multiply, no one told me that he was…that he was…” Sir Wilfrid blustered, his eyes popping out of his head, and a vein in his forehead throbbed. He looked as if he was going to have some kind of a fit.

“Well, go on, then, spit it out, man.” Clarence wanted to hear what Sir Wilfrid had to say about the man he respectfully called uncle. His uncle had to be a man of great power to instill such fear in the bastard that stood before him.

“He cannot seem to take his eyes off me, Clarence. I do look rather pretty, if I do say so myself. Red is my colour, don’t you think?” he asked, blinking at him in a coquettish manner and raising his voice in an attempt to make him sound less manly.

“I do,” Clarence agreed.

“Shall I have a bit of fun with the blighter?” Felix asked. “We could play kick him up the arse.”

“Is that even a game?” Clarence asked, laughing.

“It is when I play it, mate.” 

Sir Wilfrid looked panicked, and he turned to run, only to slam straight into Freddie.

“Freddie!” Clarence said happily. “I thought…I thought you would be in Wiltshire with Julia.”

“We were going to spend Christmas with Julia’s family, even though my father kept insisting we spend it in Scotland, so we compromised and decided to come here. He shall be given a proper Christmas in the Cotswolds. I am looking forward to it myself. Lady Evesham did invite Ginny and her family, and she in turn invited us, and well, I think everyone is here. I hope you have the room, mate.”

“We have the room,” Clarence said, smiling.

“Mr. Lovett brought Lady Broadway with him as well. Lord Broadway decided to spend Christmas with James…and they are both spending it at their country retreat.”

“Oh, I bet that is going over well. According to Anne, it is a heap of rubble.”

“Ah, well, they’ll have to live with it. At least they have each other, and I hear that misery loves company,” Freddie grinned, and looked at Sir Wilfrid who had finally given up. “Now, what are we supposed to do with this little sodding bastard? What is that smell? Did you just mess yourself, or do you always smell like that?” he asked Sir Wilfrid.

“Bugger off, you lowborn bastard.”

“Now see here, Sir Wilfrid, when I was born, I became the Earl of Kilmun, now I am the Marquess of Knightwick,” Freddie said, grinning widely. “Besides, there is nothing wrong with being a lowborn bastard. Some of my best mates are lowborn bastards, ain’t that right, Felix?”

“Right you are, my friend.”

“So, what’s going to happen to him? I’d like to get him off my hands. We’re out in the open and he still smells. I would hate to be near him in an enclosed space. You need to acquaint yourself with a bath more than once a year, man.” Freddie scrunched his nose up disdainfully.

“We could get rid of him ourselves,” Felix suggested.

“I’m sorry to dash your hopes, Lord Spaulding but Sir Wilfrid will be taken back to London,” Edward Lovett said crisply, finally joining them. He looked quite powerful today, with an air of efficiency about him. The bejeweled walking stick he carried made him look every part the dashingly dapper gentlemen. “I did some further research into Sir Wilfrid’s dealings with the French during the Wars…and well, it seems he gave some critical pieces of information that aided Napoleon’s forces in winning a few battles that he shouldn’t have—and he was greatly rewarded for betraying his country. So…he shall have to atone for that.”

“I hate traitors,” Freddie muttered, lifting Sir Wilfrid off his feet, and giving him a good shake.

“I could save them the trouble,” Felix offered, directing the pistol at Sir Wilfrid. “Think of all the friends we lost, Freddie. Think of Maurice, Patrick, Angus, Sean, Jack, Robbie and Jonny, and so many more. Some of them were little more than lads. We lost so much, and he helped that along. This little son of a bitch, probably has some of their blood on his hands. There would be no fuss or muss, and we could all have a happy Christmas knowing this little bastard has been sent to hell. I hope they have a nice hot spot waiting for him.”

“While that does sound like an intriguing notion, son, I am afraid that I shall have to spoil your plans. I rather think…” Edward said, motioning for the men he had brought with him to step forward, “I do believe there are men back in London who would like to question Sir Wilfrid and see if there are others like him who have evaded justice. He shall pay in due course, you only need to be patient.”

“I would rather die now,” Sir Wilfrid said. “Shoot me, you bloody arsehole.”

“Now, how in the world, did he know that was one of my titles?” Felix asked, ready to oblige him. 

Edward snorted. “Felix, put the pistol away. It’s not worth wasting the bullet on this blackguard. He’s a bloody coward. There is nothing worse on the face of the Earth than men like Sir Wilfrid. He truly is scum of the Earth. Take him away. Remove him from my sight.” The men nodded, and left.

“Don’t you have to go with them?” Clarence asked, climbing out of the carriage.

“Those back in London shall have to make do without me until after the New Year. Alice has asked me to stay here for Christmas. Her father, Mr. Thomas Somersby, has also joined our happy company. I hope you do not mind, Clarence.”

“Not at all,” Clarence said jovially. “The more the merrier, I always say, Uncle Edward.” His staff would be hopping to accommodate all of the guests. He would have to remember to reward them greatly for the effort they would have to go to during the holidays.

“Splendid, splendid,” Edward said, smiling. “Once Christmastide is over, I shall have to go back to London to tidy things up there. I do hope I can return to my beloved Lark Hall soon. I miss it terribly, but oh, what a beautiful place Evesham Hall is.”

“Don’t worry, you will be back in your treasured banyans and relaxing like the lazy country gentlemen in no time at all,” Freddie said.

“I pray you are right, lad.” Edward’s visage remained serious for a few more moments, and then, he smiled. “Come along, Clarence, you have a lot of family to greet. Your father and mother are here, and so is Cyril, and your Grandmamma made the trip as well.”

“Oh, how lovely,” Clarence said. “Shall we go inside, warm ourselves by the fire, put up the decorations, and sing some carols?”

They all murmured their agreement, and headed back toward the house. He had wanted a memorable Christmas, surrounded by those he loved, and now he would have it.

*****

They were all gathered in Evesham Hall’s magnificent Drawing Room.

Valentina sat at the pianoforte playing merrily while they all sang God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen. The house was bedecked with greenery, and the feeling of Christmas was in the air, and they were about to gather round the snapdragon bowl.

As darkness beckoned, they had lit the candles from the Yule log, and they had thrown a sprig of holly onto it so they could burn their troubles from the past year away and while their candles were being lighted, everyone remained silent and made their Christmas wishes for the coming year. He had wished for his happiness with Ann to continue. Soon, they would play the snapdragon game.

This year the Christmas bowl had been filled with brandy, and in the center of the bowl was a tasty little plum pudding. The brandy had been poured over it, and raisins, currants and almonds had been thrown into the liquid. Once it was lit on fire, they would all try to snatch out the treats that were in the bowl all the while knowing they were at risk of burning their fingers.

The Lovett girls were excited about it because they believed in the tradition that said the person who fetched out the most treats would find their true love within the year. With the room darkened, as it was, it would be quite a sight with the blue flames dancing across the liquid.

When they returned from Midnight Mass, they would exchange gifts, but there was one thing he knew—this year, Ann had been his greatest gift. His family had a tradition of giving one gift for every day of the Twelve Days of Christmas and his Uncle Edward had told him earlier that it had been a tradition brought by Clarence’s great-great-grandmother who had been born a Lovett.

Following another tradition first established by Queen Charlotte, they had also brought in a Christmas tree, and it was illuminated with small wax candles, and decorated with bunches of sweetmeats, almonds, raisins in papers, and fruits and toys. The tree glittering with tinsel and glass was quite a magical sight, and put peace into his heart. They had a bit of fairyland in their Drawing Room, and it had captivated the younger Lovett children who sat on the floor near it and watched it avidly.

Ann left her mother’s side, and came to stand with him. He put his arm around her, and she leaned in close. “Happy Christmas, Clarence. I feel as if I am in heaven. I think this is what I always wanted, but never had at this time of the year.”

“It is the most blessed time of the year, my love.”

“Indeed,” she murmured. “What did you wish for when we lit the candles, from the Yule log?”

He chuckled. “If I told you…it might not come true.”

“I wished…I wished for more of this,” she confessed, letting out a blissful sigh. “Shall you take part in the snapdragon game?” she asked softly, looking adoringly up into his eyes.

“There is no point in doing it this year,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “I fought Cyril for the right to all of the treats last year…”

“And…” she encouraged.

“And, I came out with the largest amount. And do you know, I believe the tradition works. I did find my true love within the year.”

“You had already found me, Clarence. I was the one who hadn’t yet realized the best thing to happen was standing right in front of me, desperately attempting to gain my attention. I was the nincompoop. I was the fool.”

“And that, my love,” he murmured, drawing her close, “Is why my Christmas wish last year was for you to finally see me in the light I wanted you to see me in. And…it succeeded at long last.”

“Oh, how I adore you, Clarence.”

Clarence grinned, and kissed her on the forehead, then, he pulled out a sprig of mistletoe and said cheekily, “Might I beg my lady for a kiss?”

“You never have to beg for a kiss, my lord. I am yours, and you are mine.”

“Until the end of time,” he murmured, claiming her lips.

He had everything he had ever prayed for. He had his beloved Anne—and for as long as he lived, he would think of her as his Christmas Angel—the greatest gift of all.

The End

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Other Regency Romances by Marly Mathews

His Christmas Nymph, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book One

His Valentine Princess, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book Two

His Beltane Bride, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book Three

His Summer Rose, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book Four

His Scandalous Lady, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book Five

His Michaelmas Mistress, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book Six

His Bewitching Jewel, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book Seven

His Christmas Angel, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book Eight

His Blessed Epiphany, A Regency Holiday Romance, Book Nine 

His to Hold, Regency Scoundrels, Book One

The Duchess and the Spy, Agents of the Crown, Book One

A Lady’s Revenge, A Regency Novella