A Mackenzie Family Christmas: The Perfect Gift

Fellows halted, his face still, his only acknowledgment of her a faint nod. Louisa tried to nod back, but her neck was too stiff to bend. She and Isabella reached the landing on the second floor, Isabella pulled her around a corner, and Mr. Fellows was lost to sight.

"Here we are," Isabella said, ushering Louisa into a large, sumptuous bedchamber. It was a huge room, larger even than her chamber had been when Louisa had lived in the main house on her father's estate. Her bedroom in the dower house was quite small, a corner room under the eaves.

"It's enchanting," Louisa said. "Izzy, I need to tell you. I've decided something."

Isabella turned around, saw Louisa's face, and quietly told the upstairs maid who was unpacking Louisa's cases to leave them and return later. The maid curtseyed and retreated, though she gave Louisa a curious Scots stare before she left.

Isabella took Louisa's hands. "What is it, darling?"

Louisa took a moment to reflect how beautiful her beloved sister had become. Isabella's hair was a rich red, her eyes the perfect green in contrast, her skin pale but not the chalk white of too delicate a complexion.

Isabella knew how to dress well, her green gown with black piping neither too matronly nor too frivolous, her bustle a manageable size in an age where they all must wear the equivalent of kitchen shelves on the backs of their gowns. Tasteful, elegant, lovely. The stark unhappiness had gone from Isabella's eyes, to be replaced by the contentment of a woman who was well loved.

"I've decided I need to get married," Louisa said.

Isabella squeezed Louisa's hands and started to smile, then the smile faded. "I was about to ask who was the lucky gentleman, but suddenly I'm not sure what you mean."

"I mean that it is time for me to marry. I've been of marriageable age for years now, and am actually already on the shelf. I am regarded with pity, despite the fact that I'm an earl's daughter, because papa died in disgrace and poverty. I'm not much of a prospect, am I? But there are men of fortune willing to seek a pedigree, and I do at least have that."

"Darling, you don't need a fortune. Mac and I will take care of you and Mama, you know that. You never have to worry."

"Yes, and you both are very kind." Louisa withdrew her hands from her sister's grasp. "But I want to marry. I want my own household, children. I do not wish to be the spinster sister living on charity the rest of my life. If I marry well, not only will you have me off your hands, I can help restore the reputation of the Scrantons, which is a bit damaged, you must admit. I can hear the gossips now, if I do this--Her father died in terrible debt, her sister's scandalous elopement was played out in the newspapers, but at least the younger sister married into a good family."

"Louisa." Isabella dropped her distressed look and spoke gently. "I love you dearly. I do understand--you want your dignity back. But please, I beg of you, do not marry against your heart. I would be pleased beyond belief to see you settled and filling your nursery, but only if you're in love. I've witnessed many a loveless marriage, and both parties live in misery, believe me. I followed my heart, as much trouble as it caused, and found true happiness. I have a wonderful husband who adores me, and I love him and my three children with every breath."

Yes, she did. Mac was besotted with Isabella, and she with him. But Isabella's happiness had been a long time in the making.

"That's all very well," Louisa said impatiently. "But when you ran off with Mac, it was a complete mess, and you know it. I don't wish to be unkind, Izzy, but as I observed before, you made things rather difficult for those of us left behind. You followed your heart, but you spent many unhappy years before you and Mac sorted it all out."

"I know." The flash of pain in Isabella's eyes told Louisa just how unhappy those years had been. "But life is a complicated thing. Not easily put right with this marriage or that--a man of fortune, a woman of lineage. The newspapers will like it if you make such a match, but you won't."

"What choice do I have?" Louisa swung to her cases and started lifting out gowns--Isabella had purchased every one of them for her. "I am the poor relation, I am left off invitation lists because I've been out several seasons now, and no one has shown interest in marrying me. I want to change that. This spring, I will set out to find a husband. I will have to borrow money from you for a new wardrobe, but I will pay you back when I can."

Isabella's competent hands lifted a skirt and shook it out. "What absolute nonsense. Of course, you shall have your wardrobe, and the most glorious Season any young lady could wish. The debs will be green with envy. If you want a husband, you shall have one."

Louisa recognized the determination in her sister, a determination that could flatten forests. "Please do not match-make for me, Isabella. I know the eligible gentlemen in London and the chances I have with each. I've made it my study. I will do this on my own." She let out her breath, softening. "Though I do appreciate your help, Iz. You know that. And Mama will certainly enjoy herself. She adores going out, and she will accompany me everywhere."

"As will I, when I can," Isabella said. "You know that London during the Season is my territory, and I'll be presenting another artist and new violinist at my little gatherings. You shall of course be there to hostess with me."

"As your unmarried sister."

"As my brilliant little sister who would make any gentleman invited to my house a good wife. Not to worry, Louisa. This will all turn out well."