The Yuletide Bride: 1781 (Wedlocked!) Read online

  The Yuletide Bride

  Mary Lyons

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘I’M SORRY to be late,’ Amber called out breathlessly as she made her way through the noisy, crowded café, to where her friend was sitting at a small table beside the window.

  ‘There was no need to hurry,’ Rose Thomas told her, before ordering a pot of coffee from a passing waitress. ‘Sally hasn’t arrived yet. If I know her, she’s probably spending a fortune in one of the dress shops. And busy catching up on all the latest scandal, of course!’

  ‘I expect you’re right,’ Amber grinned. Their friend Sally, the wife of a wealthy and highly respected lawyer, was affectionately known amongst her friends as being both a shop-aholic, and an avid collector of local news and gossip. ‘But, as far as I’m concerned,’ she added, sighing with relief as she lowered her carrier bags and parcels down on to the floor, ‘trying to do any ordinary, everyday shopping during the run-up to Christmas, is nothing but sheer murder.’

  ‘Don’t I know it!’ Rose agreed with a rueful laugh. ‘Even though it’s only Thursday, the supermarket was packed as tight as a tin of sardines, and I didn’t manage to buy half the things on my shopping list. Since my dreaded mother-in-law is threatening to descend on us for the Christmas holidays, I was just wondering if I could ask you to make me a large plum pudding? And maybe some sponge cakes to keep in the freezer just in case of any unexpected visitors?’

  ‘No problem—all orders gratefully received!’ Amber grinned as she pulled out a chair and sat down.

  ‘That’ll be wonderful,’ Rose sighed with relief. ‘By the way, how is your business doing?’

  ‘Well, it looks as though I’m going to be very busy in the kitchen, since I’ve now got lots of orders from the local shops for Christmas cakes, puddings and mince pies. Unfortunately, the paying-guest side of the business isn’t doing so well. Bookings are down, and we don’t have anyone staying with us at the moment. On top of which...’ she hesitated for a moment. ‘I don’t want anyone else to know just yet, because I’m still trying to summon up enough courage to break the bad news to my mother. However, after a really awful interview with the bank manager, I’ve finally had to face the hard, financial facts of life and put my house on the market.’

  ‘You don’t mean...?’

  Amber nodded. ‘Yes, I’m afraid so. I’ve seen Mr Glover, the house agent, and the Hall is going to be advertised for sale as from the beginning of next week.’

  ‘Oh, no! I’m so sorry,’ Rose exclaimed, gazing at her friend with deep concern and sympathy. Since they’d both been born and raised in the same small, riverside market town of Elmbridge, she was well aware of the misfortunes suffered in the past by Amber’s family; the public scandal and disgrace surrounding the crash of her father’s large business empire, swiftly followed by his death and her mother’s complete mental breakdown. It seemed so desperately unfair, Rose told herself, that after all the trials and tribulations which she’d so bravely confronted in the past, her friend should now be having to face yet even more problems.

  ‘Oh, well—it’s not exactly the end of the world. The Hall is far too large for us, and the heating bills are astronomical,’ Amber pointed out, attempting to put a brave face on what was, in reality, a disastrous family situation.

  ‘But where will you go?’ Rose asked anxiously as the waitress brought a tray to their table. ‘Have you found anywhere else to live?’

  Amber sighed. ‘No, not yet. I’m hoping to buy a small cottage, not too far away from Elmbridge. Mainly, of course, because I don’t want to take Lucy away from either her school, or her friends.’

  ‘I’ll keep my ear to the ground, and let you know the moment I hear of anything,’ Rose assured her earnestly. However, as she poured them both a cup of coffee, she couldn’t help worrying about how her friend would manage to cope with life in a small cottage.

  She’d been away at college when Amber, at the age of eighteen, had married Clive Stanhope, a very wealthy if somewhat wild young man, who’d owned Elmbridge Hall, an ancient Tudor mansion and by far the largest house in the district. Clive’s wedding to Amber—the once rich, but by then penniless only child of a disgraced businessman—followed by the birth of a daughter only six months after their marriage, had provided plenty of ammunition for gossip in the small town. However, Amber had subsequently won everyone’s admiration by the way she’d coped after her husband’s fatal car accident, a year later, when it became known that Clive had apparently been a compulsive gambler, and all the land was heavily mortgaged. In fact, after everything had been sold to meet a mountain of debts, the young widow had been left with nothing but Elmbridge Hall.

  Over the past few years, Rose had looked forward to a time when her friend would meet the right man and live happily ever after. With thick shoulder-length straight hair, a glorious shade of deep golden brown, and large green eyes set above a warm generous mouth, Amber was a very beautiful woman. Certainly Philip Jackson, the young local doctor, seemed to think so. But, despite all her matchmaking efforts, Rose couldn’t understand why her friend—who was also a loving mother and superb cook—appeared to be so reluctant to get married again. But now...well, surely Amber would see the sense in marrying a man who had so much to offer her?

  ‘I saw Philip Jackson the other day. He tells me that he’s going to his parents’ home in Cumberland for Christmas.’

  ‘Oh, yes?’ Amber murmured, eyeing her friend warily.

  ‘Well, I was just wondering if...er...if he’s asked you and Lucy to join him?’

  ‘For Heaven’s sake—don’t you ever give up?’ Amber groaned, shaking her head in mock exasperation. ‘I thought you’d promised to stop trying to marry me off to all the single men in town?’

  ‘Yes, well...’ Rose’s cheeks reddened slightly. ‘I really don’t mean to interfere in your life. But it’s almost seven years since Clive died. And it’s as clear as daylight to me—especially after hearing the sad news about the sale of your house—that what you really need is a husband.’

  ‘I hope you’re not suggesting that I should marry Philip—or anyone else, for that matter—merely to provide a way out of my difficulties?’ Amber demanded bluntly.

  ‘No—of course, I’m not,’ Rose protested, waving a hand dismissively in the air. ‘But surely this is the perfect time to think seriously about your future?’

  ‘Oh, come on, Rose! We’re not just talking about me. There’s Lucy to consider, as well. It’s not everyone who’d want to take on a little seven-year-old girl—not to mention my scatty mother.’

  ‘I know your mother can be a problem at times,’ Rose agreed, well aware that Violet Grant, who’d never really recovered from the trauma of her husband’s sudden death, was an extra and often tiresome burden for the young widow’s slim shoulders to carry. ‘But Philip is clearly mad about you, and you can’t deny that he’d be a really good choice of stepfather for Lucy. On top of which, I happen to think that you’d make a marvellous doctor’s wife.’

  Amber smiled and shook her head. ‘Thanks for the vote of confidence! I know you mean well, and that what you’re saying probably makes sense, but... OK, OK, I promise to give the matter some thought,’ she added hurriedly as her old friend seemed determined to press the point. ‘Now, tell me—is your mother-in-law going to be staying for the whole of the Christmas holidays?’ she asked, firmly changing the subject. Unfortunately, there was no way she could te
ll Rose the truth; that having already made one marriage of convenience—although Clive Stanhope had been a very kind, generous-hearted man—she was desperately wary of entering into such an arrangement ever again.

  To be fair, her friend did have a point about Lucy. Ever since Clive had died, when her daughter was just under a year old, she had done her best to be both mother and father to the little girl. That she hadn’t always succeeded in properly fulfilling the two, very different roles over the past seven years, was a fact of which Amber was becoming daily more aware. So, maybe Rose was right? Maybe she ought to stop shilly-shallying, and force herself to take the practical, sensible decision to marry Philip Jackson?

  A highly respected doctor, who’d recently joined a local practice, Philip was a genuinely nice and considerate man. The fact that he also had a private income, lived in a large house all on his own and was reasonably good-looking, with fair hair and kind brown eyes, made him the obvious candidate as far as her friends were concerned. But, while she was very fond of Philip, she wasn’t in love with him. And having once experienced the intense, tempestuous drive of overwhelming emotion and desire, it seemed quite wrong to settle for second best.

  ‘...so, the old dragon is bound to make Christmas a misery for all of us, and... Good Heavens! It looks as if Sally really has been spending a fortune!’

  Startled by Rose’s sudden exclamation, and guiltily aware that while she’d been buried deep in thought, she’d missed most of what her friend had been saying, Amber looked up to see a petite blonde woman making her way towards them, her progress impeded by the enormous amount of parcels she was carrying.

  ‘Hi, darlings! I’m sorry to be so late,’ she cried. ‘I’ve never known the shops to be so crowded. But I know you’ll both forgive me when I tell you some absolutely riveting news!’

  ‘I don’t know why you aren’t running your own gossip column in the local newspaper!’ Rose mocked as she and Amber exchanged a quick grin with one another.

  ‘Oh, don’t be so stuffy,’ Sally laughed good-naturedly, placing her shopping on an adjacent chair as she sat down to join them. ‘Besides, this isn’t a rumour—it’s the genuine truth, which everyone will know about sooner or later,’ she added before turning to Amber. ‘Do you remember Lady Parker? The mega-rich old woman that lived near you, and who died in a big fire at her house well over a year ago?’

  Amber nodded. ‘I never actually met the old lady, because she’d been a recluse for many years. Apparently the house was burned to the ground.’

  ‘Right. Well, my dear husband was in charge of her affairs, and it seems that she always refused to make a will,’ Sally continued excitedly. ‘So, it took John simply ages to track down her only living relative. However, he’s now finally succeeded, and Lady Parker’s ten thousand acres—plus goodness knows how much extra money in stocks and shares, has all been inherited by...”Mad Max”!’

  ‘What?’ Rose gasped in astonishment. ‘You don’t mean...? Not...not the old vicar’s son—Max Warner?’

  ‘Yes!’ Sally beamed at her friends, delighted at the expression of shock and surprise on their faces. Amber, in particular, appeared to be totally stunned.

  ‘I just knew that you’d both be amazed to hear about the return of our old school heart-throb,’ she continued happily. ‘Of course, it’s been years since the Reverend Augustus Warner died, so I suppose that it’s not surprising that we’d forgotten all about his son. When John first told me about the return of “Mad Max”, I could hardly believe my ears!’

  ‘He certainly deserved that nickname!’ Rose laughed. ‘I remember him as a wild tearaway—with a simply terrible reputation for breaking girls’ hearts. All the same...’ she paused, staring into space with a dreamy expression on her face. ‘Max really was diabolically attractive, wasn’t he?’

  ‘Absolutely scrumptious!’ Sally agreed with a grin. ‘In fact, with his curly black hair and those twinkling, wicked blue eyes, the effect on our young teenage hearts was completely lethal!’

  ‘Mmm...’ Rose gave a sheepish grin. ‘After he kissed me at my sixteenth birthday party, I can remember being madly in love with Max for a whole year.’

  ‘Weren’t we all?’ her friend sighed heavily. ‘Of course, Amber is two years younger than either of us, and so probably won’t recall any of the completely crazy things he used to get up to. Do you remember that huge black motorbike of his? And the really ferocious competition amongst us girls, as to who could wangle a ride behind him on the pillion seat?’

  ‘Oh, yes! One of the highlights of my teens was when he once took me down the motorway at well over a hundred miles an hour.’ Cheeks flushed, Rose shook her head at her own folly. ‘I was absolutely scared to death, of course. But it was worth it. I reckoned I was the envy of everyone at school for at least two whole weeks!’

  Sally giggled. ‘You certainly were. I can remember Cynthia Henderson, for instance, collapsing into a jealous fit of raving hysterics—right in the middle of school assembly!’

  ‘It’s all very well to talk about old school days, but where’s Max been all these years?’ Rose asked. ‘I know he was very clever. And, despite fooling around, he passed his school exams with flying colours before gaining a scholarship to university. But his father, old Reverend Warner, died while I was away training to be a nurse—and I’ve never heard anything about Max from that day to this.’

  ‘Nor had anyone else,’ Sally agreed. ‘In fact, my dear husband had almost given up the search for him. And then...when he was invited to a very grand, fund-raising dinner in London a few weeks ago, he discovered that Max Warner was the principal guest speaker!’

  ‘Good Heavens!’

  ‘We all thought that Max had dropped off the edge of the world, didn’t we? But not a bit of it!’ Sally gave a loud peal of laughter. ‘It seems he had an uncle in America. So, when his father died eight years ago, Max went off to the States to make his fortune. He’s now returned to England as the terrifically successful, managing director of a huge, high-powered public company. And he’s made an appointment to see John sometime soon, here in Elmbridge. How about that!’

  While her friends were chatting excitedly together, exchanging news of a long-lost old school friend, Amber had been sitting rigidly still, her mind dazed and reeling, as though she’d been hit on the back of her head by a heavy sandbag. Even Sally’s sudden shriek of horror hardly managed to penetrate her stunned brain.

  ‘Oh, help—just look at the time!’ Sally quickly jumped up from the table. ‘I should have been at the hairdresser’s at least ten minutes ago!’

  ‘What an extraordinary piece of news about Max Warner,’ Rose mused as Sally bustled out of the café, before catching sight of her friend’s chalk-white face and dazed, stricken expression.

  ‘Amber! What on earth’s wrong? Are you all right?’

  ‘Yes, I...’ She took a deep breath and tried to pull herself together. ‘Really, I’m fine,’ she shakily informed Rose, who was gazing at her with deep concern.

  ‘You’ve been trying to do too much,’ her friend pointed out firmly. ‘Having to cope with your mother is enough to try the patience of a saint! And running that huge old house...’

  ‘I’m sorry...I have to go. I really must get home...there’s so much cooking to do....’ Amber muttered breathlessly as she swiftly gathered up her parcels.

  ‘You don’t look at all well. I hope you’re not going down with flu?’ Her friend gazed with concern at Amber’s pale face and trembling figure. ‘If you’re not feeling too good, there’s no need to worry about picking up Emily from school tomorrow. I can easily put off my trip to London.’

  ‘No...don’t do that. I’m fine. I’ve just got a lot to do today—that’s all,’ she assured Rose, before hurriedly making her way out of the café.

  * * *

  Dazed and shivering with nervous tension, Amber sat huddled in the front seat of her ancient Land Rover, staring blindly at the wind-rippled, dark water of the wide river estuar
y. Completely shattered by Sally’s news, she’d known that there was no way she was in a fit state to drive the five miles back to Elmbridge Hall. Not when it had taken her several fumbled attempts to even place her key in the ignition. But since she couldn’t continue sitting in the town car park, either, she’d cautiously made her way down to the quayside which was, as she’d hoped, completely deserted at this time of year.

  She ought to have known that this was likely to happen sooner or later, Amber told herself grimly, wrapping her arms tightly about her trembling figure. What a blind, stupid fool she had been—living in a fool’s paradise for the past eight years. While she’d had no idea that Lady Parker was his grandmother, she should have realised that Max Warner must eventually return—like the prodigal son—to his old home town of Elmbridge.

  Suddenly feeling in need of some fresh air, Amber opened the door and stepped down from the Land Rover. Walking slowly up and down over the frosty cobblestones, she desperately tried to clear her mind, to try and work out what she was going to do. But it was proving difficult to think clearly when her mind seemed to be filled with memories of the past.

  A much-loved and only child of wealthy parents, Amber had always been protected from the harsh facts of life. But the catastrophic events surrounding the collapse of her father’s business empire, during the long hot summer of her eighteenth birthday, had shattered and destroyed for ever the safe, secure world of her childhood. Shocked and bewildered by the newspaper headlines trumpeting ‘Financial Scandal!’ and ‘Millions Lost by Suffolk Businessman!’ she’d been totally ill-equipped to deal with either the devastating news of her father’s bankruptcy, or his sudden death from a fatal heart attack. And when her mother—unable to face the prospect of either being shunned by her former friends, or the total reverse of the family fortunes—had collapsed and been placed by the family doctor in a local psychiatric nursing home, Amber had found herself standing completely alone amidst the ashes of her previous existence.