In the inn parlor, Bernadette stood quite still. She was certain she expressed nothing of what she was feeling. And if her fingernails bit slightly too hard into her palms? Well, that was no one's concern but hers.
I like you. Very much.
Oh, how she had made a muck of it all! The man she loved wanted her as well. Wasn't that what every girl dreamed of? It was only too bad she was already engaged to someone else.
She had missed him by an hour. For the rest of her life she would feel the burn of that sore loss.
One hour.
Aunt Sarah was still staring after the departed Lord Mathias. "Well, that is a very strange man. I suppose it comes from being so well-off."
"His wife died in a fire," Bernadette said faintly. "And his little son, too."
"Oh." Aunt Sarah did not like being caught being uncharitable. Therefore, she glared at Bernadette with exasperation. "Well, you might have told me that."
Bernadette looked at her aunt for a long moment. Perhaps if you were kinder at the outset, you would have fewer regrets later on. Wise words for all, indeed. "Well, his lordship did not hear you say it."
"Well, the Lord God did!" Aunt Sarah looked down at her hands. "I should not speak unkindly of him. I do not dislike the man. It was only that, well, he was turning your head! And anyone could see he wasn't serious!"
"Oh, he was entirely serious," Bernadette said. "He came here this morning to court me, if I allowed it. He told me so."
It was almost worth the pain to see Aunt Sarah's jaw drop in that fashion. "But he's a lord. A peer! What? He couldn't possibly want you!"
"As always, my dearest aunt, your faith in me does my heart good." She felt rather tired. Though she'd only woken a few hours past, she felt as though a year had passed since the sun rose.
John Barton entered the parlor. With great relief, Aunt Sarah greeted him. Wisely, Aunt Sarah said nothing of Lord Mathias, even when John asked.
"Where was his lordship going in such tremendous haste? Is he ill? He did not look well."
Bernadette drifted to the window to look out. "Did he not? How curious."
"Well! I think I can leave the two of you alone for a moment. I must check on the vicar. If I don't stop him he'll stuff himself on sweets, and acquire himself a bellyache for his troubles."
Bernadette turned her head and looked her aunt in the eye. "Mind you keep Simon from a similar fate, if you please."
Aunt Sarah blinked at her cold tone, then nodded shortly. "Of course, dear."
As Aunt Sarah fled the room minus some of her usual bustle, John joined Bernadette by the window. "It is Christmas day. Simon was brought home, safe and sound. This morning you agreed to marry me." He turned to face her directly. She kept her gaze averted. "Why are you not happy? Please, look at me, Bernie."
Bernadette.
She lifted her chin and met his gaze. She'd never been able to hide her feelings well. They always seem to come bubbling forth the matter what she did. So she was not surprised when he gazed at her expression with some alarm.
"What is it? My dear, what has happened?"
Perhaps it was selfish of her. Yet in all honesty, Bernadette longed to tell someone who might care. "It seems Lord Mathias meant to court me. I think, no, I know, he meant it in all great seriousness."
Oddly, John did not seem much surprised. Her attention focused quite sharply. She narrowed her eyes. "You knew this. How could you already know this?"
John looked uncomfortable. "It is simply something one man knows about another. When they both care for a lady. There is a certain amount of, well, unspoken competition."
"Competition. Over me?" Then she drew in a quick breath. "Was that why you proposed last night, when I'd only been here a few days? After all those years of not knowing me at all, it did seem a bit of a hurry, but I never dreamed!" She took a step back. "Were you simply trying to win?"
John looked quite properly horrified at the notion. That was reassuring in one way and also not. "I should say not! It was my very intention when I invited your family all to join me here. I told you last night, I have been waiting to be in a position to support a wife properly. I've been planning for years. First my education, then a good position, then a wife. I mean, then you."
If she was not a prize, was she, perhaps, merely part of a plan? Am I your Marianna, or not? "Last night, why did you propose?" She shook her head. "I suppose it doesn't matter now. We are engaged. The matter is finished."
She let her gaze drift to the window once more. "I imagine we will have a few uncomfortable moments dealing with his lordship in the future. Still, he is an honorable man and not unkind. I'm sure he will behave quite properly."
She thought about his abrupt and bizarre departure. That is, once he no longer mourns my loss. She dare not forget that Lord Mathias felt most deeply. He was not a man to get over his feelings easily. Oh, she had struck him such a terrible blow when he was so close to healing at last.
Another thing I shall regret forever.
"And what of you, Bernadette?"
It was the first time John never called her by her full name. She lifted her head and gazed at her sharply. "What you mean?"
John gazed at her for a long moment and then let out a breath. "I'm looking at you now and it's as if you are not standing before me. You have gone away somewhere. I'm not sure how but it seems as though I am at fault." He reached out a hand as if to brush back a strand of hair from her face. Heaven help her, she shifted away. A look of resignation closed John's usually open expression.
"You love him."
She wouldn't lie, not to this good man. Not to herself. "I do love him. And I have for many years."
At John's very evident surprise at that fact, Bernadette explained the messages in the bottles, the years of waiting for them to arrive every Christmas, the poring over them for hours by candlelight.
"So you see, my good, kind, generous John, I have been guilty from the start. I do not deserve you. Nor him. I am, as Aunt Sarah would say, an irredeemable wretch."
John abruptly turned away from her and crossed the room with his head down and his hands clasped firmly behind his back. He stood before the fire but she did not think he saw the blue flames dancing on the coals. "So why did you agree to marry me?" His deep voice was very quiet.
"For my family, of course." She did not intend to be harsh, merely to continue her new habit of honesty.
A long breath. "Well, of course you would not do such a thing for yourself. Very understandable." He nodded and took a deep breath. "That's all there is then." He turned sharply to face her.
"My dear Miss Goodrich, I do release you from our agreement of one hour. I rather think I should like to wed someone who truly wishes to wed me. Suddenly that seems highly important. Highly important indeed."
Bernadette stared at him. Released? How strange. She thought she stood wrapped around in chains, that her future was as fixed as a stone buried so deep into the earth that it looked like a mere pebble until one tried to dig it up! A few words of truth from her lips and she was released?
Take it, foolish girl, take it and run! "I thank you most kindly, Vicar Barton." She gave a curtsy, for something seemed called for. "You are absolutely deserving to be truly loved. I'm sure you shall be, very soon."
She was suddenly seized by restless energy. Freed from her polite cage her hands fluttered up almost of their own will. She went up on tiptoe and settled back down. She moved one step to the side, turned to the window, turned back to John and shook her head. "I don't know what to do with myself."
John gazed at her ruefully. Frown creased his brow as he watched her strange restless dance. "You are an impatient thing. Are you going to see him now?"
"Yes." Oh, yes-yes-yes!
He tilted his head. "And suddenly you are even more attractive than you were ten minutes ago. Love suits you."
Bernadette blushed and turned to leave. Just as she had her hand on the latch of the door, she turned half around again.
"I don't think I was your Marianna, after all."
John nodded sadly, not questioning what she intended by that. "Perhaps not. But I think you could have been. I really do."
Matthias dismounted Perseus at his own front steps and left the great snorting beast to the groom. It was rare that Matthias allowed his mount to gallop uncontrolled for so long. Perseus had mightily enjoyed the race back to Havensbeck.
Matthias had simply wanted to get as far away from the future vicar and Mrs. Barton as he could. Oh damn, she would be the wife of the vicar of his own village. Oh, no.
He should depart for London immediately. Yes, at once. Of course, he hated London, too. But at least there he would not be seeing those eyes laughing at someone else, that smile directed at another man, and if his hearth and bed were condemned to be cold and empty forever, at least he could be as far from the source of his pain as possible.
The first time he had felt his heart warm from its long winter, and he'd been too scared, too slow, too lost in the woods to see clearly in time.
He had loved once. Somehow, he had managed to find his way to love again. He most sincerely doubted his heart would ever recover enough for a third assault.
Jasper met him at the door and took his hat and coat eagerly. "How was your ride, my lord? You are back rather quickly. Will you be returning to Haven again today? Is it something you'll be doing often?
"Jasper, blast it, leave off! She's marrying the vicar!" There. That should put a stop to Jasper's matchmaking. "I'm going to my study." He wouldn't scandalize Jasper by asking for brandy at this early hour. Besides, he was fairly certain he had a bottle left in his desk.
He didn't desire to drink, in the end. He stood in his study and gazed out at the soft gray winter's day, the fresh snow as tender as a dove's wing. Last night's weather was a kindly sort of snowfall, merely enough to beautify the trampled, dirtied white, as if to say, "Happy Christmas to all."
I do believe this puts paid to me ever enjoying Christmas again. Yes, I am quite sure of it.
Jasper brought coffee, steaming bitter and aromatic in the silver server. Wise Jasper.
Once he'd served, Jasper stayed, poising himself in the center of the carpet with his hands behind his back, like a penitent tradesman or guilty tenant. Matthias frowned at him. "What is it, Jasper?"
"My lord, it was all my fault."
Matthias closed his eyes, too weary even for exasperation. "What is all your fault, Jasper?"
The butler lifted his chin, as if preparing for a blow. "It was I who went to Vicar Barton and asked him to invite Vicar Goodrich's family for Christmas."
That fixed Matthias's attention. He scowled at Jasper. "You did what?"
"My lord, it was the letter. Do you remember the letter, from the girl who laughed so hard she sat on the sundial?"
Matthias bristled. "That letter could not have possibly come from Bernadette Goodrich! The woman who wrote it was barely literate!"
"I do believe, upon further reflection, my lord, that the letter was from young master Simon. I suspect he was doing a bit of matchmaking for his sister."
Matthias shook his head. "Perhaps he was, but at what point did you decide that the semi-literate letter writer ought to come here to be my bride?"
Jasper swallowed at Matthias's tone, but forged on bravely. "It was the laughter, my lord. It has been so many years since this house has known laughter. We, the staff and I, well, we want it back."
Matthias passed both hands over his face, trying to scrub away the sticky spider web of Jasper's intricate logic. "So, in order to find me an illiterate bride, you go to the village vicar and ask him to please invite his long-lost love to Haven so she can dance with me at a ball?"
Jasper squirmed. "Well, not intentionally, my lord."
Matthias couldn't help it. It was the strangest thing. He was desperately unhappy. His heart was broken anew. Yet from somewhere deep inside him, helpless laughter began to fizz. He leaned his rear on the edge of his desk for a moment with his hands over his face and simply shook.
"My lord?"
"Oh Sweet Christmas Bells on a Stick!" Matthias dropped his hands to grip the sides of the desk and begin to laugh. The sounds he uttered were rusty and long unused, like hinges on the door too long shut. He laughed. He roared.
Jasper, wisely, waited it out without further comment.
Finally, Matthias drew a long, shuddering breath and wiped his eyes. Those were tears of laughter. He would admit to no other sort at this moment. "Jasper? Would you kindly fetch fresh paper and ink? And an empty bottle, please. I have one last letter to write."
When Bernie came in sight of the carriage bridge across the river, she saw a lone figure standing at the wall, gazing down at the water. Her heart fluttered within her ribs like a captive bird sensing freedom. Her steps quickened.
When she came abreast of Lord Matthias, she saw an empty wine bottle standing on the wall beside its cork. In his hands he held a single sheet of paper.
"Am I disturbing you? It seems a private moment."
He must not have heard her steps over the rushing of the river for he turned quickly, startled. His elbow struck the bottle, knocking it from its perch on the wall.
Both Bernadette and Matthias leaned over the wall to watch it fall. When it disappeared into the churning water running between the jagged ice banks, she turned to him with a frown. "Shall I fetch you another? I shouldn't mind it all. It was my fault."
"Now. No, that's quite alright." He straightened to face her.
She remembered something and held up one hand to halt him as she dug in her pocket. When she drew out a large stack of parchment, folded carefully and tied with a green hair ribbon and presented it to him, he stared at it without comprehension.
She pushed the gift closer. "These are yours. I am returning them to you."
"Oh." He blinked at that. "Yes." He took them from her gingerly, taking care their hands did not touch. "Well, I suppose it would be rather inappropriate for my village vicar's wife to have them."
She noticed with a bittersweet amusement that he could barely meet her eyes. It may take me a lifetime to make that up to him.
That sounded just fine to her.
"Matthias," her tone was gentle. "I had thought to tease you with this, but I fear I'm no good at keeping secrets anymore. John Barton has released me from our agreement."
Matthias's eyes widened slightly and he swayed toward her as if pulled by gravity itself. "What does that mean, released you? How? He has ended your engagement?" Conflicting emotions ran across his face. Bernadette wondered how anyone could ever think him distant or unreadable.
He looked as though he couldn't decide whether he ought to find John Barton and hug him or challenge him to a duel for Bernadette's honor. She found she quite liked that quality in a man.
Her joy begin to effervescence within her. She cast him the brightest smile she had and watched him blink against the glow. "Matthias, I am quite eligible now. And I believe there was something you were going to say to me?"
"I do. I have something I very much want to say to you. But there's something I have to do first." He held out the single folded sheet in his hand. "One last letter."
She looked at the paper for a long moment. "I see. Well then, I should leave you to it."
He held out a hand, though he stopped short of quite touching her arm. "I'd like you to stay, if you would. It is a goodbye letter."
Bernadette felt her heart lighten further. "I should be honored to remain, if that is what you wish."
She could not take her eyes off the missive in his hand. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, lending a sweet and boyish quality to his usually stern features. "Would you like to read it?"
Bernadette put her hands behind her back and clasped them virtuously together. "No, indeed. This has nothing to do with me. It's a private matter."
He tilted his head and his smile grew, but just on one side, as if he was slightly out of practice. Her heart melted.
"You really want to read it, don't you?"
She chewed her lip for a moment. "Well, yes. Yes, I would very much like to read it, thank you."
He handed the letter to her and she carefully unfolded it.
My dearest Marianna and my darling Simon,
Wherever you are, you need not wait for me any longer. I have decided to stay right where I am. I will smile, and laugh, and makes snow doggies, and hang green things in the manor at Christmastime. I will do all of these things for you who cannot, and for myself because it seems I quite like them.
I am awake now. Let your sleep be easy. I am going to be fine.
M
Bernadette felt her breath come shakily as she tenderly refolded the note and placed it back in Matthias's hand. He closed his fingers over it and tucked it into the stack of earlier letters. He looked at them for a long moment. Then he tugged the ribbon free and let all the letters fall.
They fluttered like doves, swirling down through the air until they were caught and carried away by the rushing water. The river took them, and this time the river would not give them up so easily.
Bernadette stepped closer to him and leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "Did you know that I would be coming back to you today?"
"No. I thought you quite gone from me. I believed myself alone in the world."
"It makes me very happy to know that you were ready to live on, whether or not you knew you were to live on with me." She pulled the glove from her hand and lifted her fingers to touch his dear face. "If I were her, I would be very content right now."
"I think that I am very glad that you are nothing like Marianna. You are everything that is Bernadette, instead. Tremendous, sometimes a bit frightening, possibly devastating. That is perfectly wonderful, as far as I'm concerned. That is my Bernadette."
She smiled at him again. He reached for her bare hand and wrapped it in both his large ones. He pressed her palm his chest. "I am setting the past free. The pain of the past and the love of the past. I wish to make room in my home, in my world, and in my heart."
Bernadette tilted her head and gave him a joyous chortle. "I think that's an excellent notion! Because you do realize that I come with a little brother? And I daresay I'd like to keep my aunt and uncle quite close to hand."
He smiled and stepped a little closer. "It is a very large manor. I believe there is room for all the Goodriches and perhaps a few more Waterfords as well."
She matched his approach, coming closer step for step. Gazing up into his beautiful deep blue eyes, she sighed. "Is that a proposal, my lord?"
"No, Miss Bernadette Goodrich, it is a vow. I have released my last letter. I have released the past. You, my love, I am keeping. You are my Christmas gift and it is very bad form to return a gift!"
He lowered his mouth to hers in a sweet, chaste kiss. Devastating, am I? Bernadette dared to part her lips. In answer to her boldness, he slid one big hand into her hair and cupped her skull in his palm as the kiss deepened.
She forgot the snow and the cold in the heat of his mouth. The lost soul was found again and his restored strength bolstered her even as it seduced her. By the time they parted, they were both breathless and smiling loopy grins at each other.
"Let us go home," he said. He took her hand and they crossed the river, left the bridge behind, and walked together up to the holly-infested manor house. "Shall we set the wedding date for the feast of St. Valentine?"
After that kiss? Not likely! Bernie raised a brow. "I think perhaps I'd prefer the eve of the New Year!"
At his rusty bark of laughter, Bernadette leaned her head on his arm and sighed with the depth of her contentment. "Happy Christmas, Matthias."
"Happy Christmas, my mad Miss Goodrich."