Merry did not set out on her walk intending to visit the oak, at least not consciously, but her steps led her there anyway. It had been nearly a year since she’d stood here and discovered the missive Edward had left for her in a deep crevice of the oak. They’d had plans to meet there that afternoon, two days prior to Christmas Eve. Then they were to walk to Merry’s house where Edward would formally ask her father for her hand in marriage.
They’d known each other since childhood, though like most sons of country gentlemen, he’d been away at school much of the time, so their paths had rarely crossed. But the summer Merry had turned seventeen, they’d accidentally met at the oak when each was out for a walk. Edward was widely considered to be the handsomest gentleman in the neighborhood, and since she’d last seen him, he had matured significantly. At almost twenty years of age, his face had grown more slender, losing the roundness of youth, his shoulders were broader, and his hair had darkened to a golden brown that exactly matched the golden flecks in his hazel eyes.
When he asked Merry to save the first dance at his mother’s annual summer ball for him, her insides had turned a slow summersault, and when he entreated her to walk that way again the next afternoon, she couldn’t help but say yes.
As the summer progressed, their afternoon walks became a daily occurrence. In retrospect, Merry supposed that their trysts under the oak that summer would have brought censure both from her parents and from the neighbors had anyone known that they met almost on a daily basis, just the two of them, in a remote part of the forest.
But at the time, everything had seemed so natural, so innocent, and so wonderful that Merry had not questioned the wisdom of their growing friendship. They spent hours talking of politics, art and literature. Edward was one of the few males Merry had met who shared her appreciation for the works of the novelist, Jane Austen.
During those idyllic summer days, Merry’s and Edward’s courtship blossomed as they shared their innermost thoughts and desires. When Edward returned home later that year for the Christmas break, they reunited beneath the sprawling oak and made plans for him to call on Merry’s father to offer for her hand.
But Mr. Everton sickened the next day and within a week had died, leaving Edward to try to cope with his beloved father’s death while overseeing the estate and caring for his grieving mother.
Because Edward’s father and his only brother, the Earl of Branford, had been estranged, Merry’s father had assisted Edward with his new responsibilities, and the two men soon became close. Edward told Mr. Damonson that he was interested in calling on Merry, but because he was in deep mourning, the courtship could not be formalized. Still, Merry and Edward continued to meet at the oak two or three times each week with the implicit consent of her parents, who now considered the pair to be informally engaged.
As the pain of Edward’s loss slowly faded, joy crept back into their relationship. With increasing frequency, Edward would pull Merry into his arms and gently lower his lips to hers. Merry had always loved those moments. Sometimes she wished Edward would deepen the kiss, but he invariably pulled back, although she detected a promise in his eyes of more intimate embraces to come. In much this way, more time passed and another Christmas was upon them. Edward was no longer in mourning, so he and Merry decided to meet at the oak two days before Christmas Eve and walk together to her house to ask her father for his blessing.
Merry’s spirits had been high when she approached the oak that day, and she was only mildly concerned when she spotted the note in the crevice. No doubt a small crisis with one of Edward’s tenants had caused a delay.
But the note had been both brief and cryptic. “Family emergency requires me to go away for a few days. Mother, who is already on her way to Bath, is fine. I’ll be in touch soon.”
Five days later, a special messenger brought Merry a longer missive from Edward in which he explained that his cousin Howard, the Earl of Branford’s only son, had been killed in a duel. When the earl was told about his son’s death, he had collapsed and died, leaving Edward as heir to the earldom and all of the responsibilities that went along with the title. In his letter, Edward apologized for missing Christmas with Merry but said he’d be back as soon as possible.
But he had not written again nor had he returned to Summerton. Merry was positive that something terrible had befallen him until Papa’s sister returned from a visit to London the following spring and reported seeing Edward in the drawing rooms and ballrooms of the ton. She informed Merry that Edward appeared to be under siege from the many relatives who now considered him the head of the family.
“Edward—or Branford as he is now known—always took his responsibilities seriously, as you recall,” Aunt Martha had reminded Merry. “You must not blame him too much if he has yet to learn how to give his cousins the set-downs they deserve.”
While Merry was relieved to know that Edward was well, she was even more distressed by his abandonment of her. She was well aware that he took his responsibilities seriously, but surely that was more reason he should have kept in touch with her. If a man did not feel a responsibility to the woman he’d planned to marry, then what kind of man was he?
And so she had begun to attempt to exorcise Edward from her thoughts but with very little success until recently when the passage of time had begun to ease her sorrow.
Now another Christmas season had rolled around and her determination to find happiness in the holiday seemed at risk. If Edward returned to Summerton next week, he would no doubt be invited to all of the neighborhood parties, and she would have to think of some excuse not to attend.
Perhaps she could develop a debilitating disease over the next couple of days.
Or perhaps she could find some way of irritating all of the hostesses so they would strike her from their guest lists.
Or perhaps—
“Hello, Merry.”
Or perhaps she would start imagining that she heard Edward’s voice when he was not yet in the neighborhood. Then she could beg off from the parties by announcing she’d come down with a brain fever. The voice sounded again from somewhere to her right. “I said, ‘Hello, Merry.’”
So she had not imagined hearing Edward after all. Obviously, he had returned ahead of schedule. She turned slowly and as she turned, she pulled her anger close around her like an invisible suit of armor.
He had changed, and not just in superficial ways. There was a slight air of melancholy about him and a suggestion of bleakness in his eyes. Well, he was not the only one standing under this oak who had changed. Merry squared her shoulders, lifted her chin, and narrowed her eyes just slightly. “Hello, Edward.” Perhaps she should have referred to him as “Lord Branford,” but she would not give him the satisfaction. “I’m surprised to see you back in these parts again.”
His lips thinned. “And frankly, I’m surprised to see you here at our oak today.”
She raised her chin. “And why is that? Am I not supposed to walk on my own father’s property?”
He heaved a sigh and regarded her as though she were a recalcitrant child. “I had assumed you were married by now and would be busy with the responsibilities of being a wife.”
Her mouth fell open for a second. “You assume a great deal, my lord.”
“You’re angry,” he noted.
“And you sound surprised.”
“Not surprised as much as disappointed.”
Shock held Merry speechless for long seconds. Her eyes widened. “You’re disappointed? That’s strange, considering that you are not the party who was abandoned.”
He grimaced and took a step toward her. “I’m sorry if you felt abandoned. I had hoped you might understand, considering the situation I was thrust into when I arrived at Branford Manor. There were two funerals to arrange, and then I discovered my uncle and cousin had practically run the estate into the ground. The farms were in dire condition and the tenants half-starved. Relatives I didn’t know descended on me, wanting favors I couldn’t afford.”
Merry held his gaze. “I concede that you were no doubt busy, but I fail to understand why you could not have shared some of those concerns with me before now.”
He sighed. “I put off coming to see you, hoping I’d get affairs in order at Branford Manor so I could return to Summerton without feeling burdened. I tried to explain all of this in my letters, but when you didn’t respond, I assumed you wanted nothing to do with all of my new problems.”
Merry frowned. Letters? Was his memory faulty? He had left a very short note in the crevice of the oak and then sent her exactly one letter. And he’d explained nothing.
“But then,” he continued, “I feared something was wrong and had made up my mind to travel back to Summerton to check on you. Before I could do that, I heard that you had—”
“Lord Branford! My dearest Lord Branford! There you are!”
The words sounded from Merry’s left. She twirled, surprised to hear a voice she didn’t recognize, and was stunned at the sight that greeted her. The woman who approached them was beautiful, with dazzling blonde hair piled high on her head, which was topped by a green velvet bonnet. Her slender form was wrapped in a lush velvet cape the color of holly, and her feet were clad in shiny black boots.
Merry glanced down at her second-best woolen coat, which had faded over the years from black to dingy gray. Her boots, too, were her second-best, and the scuffed toes most definitely spoke of much wear. When she lifted her gaze, she saw that the woman was also critically examining her ensemble.
After a tiny shake of her head, the female stepped closer and addressed Merry. “And who are you, my dear? One of Lord Branford’s little friends from the village?”
Merry elevated her brows. “Actually, I’m his neighbor. And you would be…?”
She thought she heard a soft moan from Edward as he hurried toward the imperious woman. “Regina! I had hoped to have a quiet walk in the woods. How did you find me?”
The woman cocked her head to one side and flashed him a coy smile. “Why, I followed your footsteps through the snow, my dear Branford. I did not like to think of your being lonely.”
“I see,” Edward responded with thinned lips. “Well, now that you’re here, allow me to introduce my neighbor and long-time friend, Miss Merry Damonson. Her father owns the estate that borders Summerton.”
Regina sniffed, then gifted Merry with a regal nod. “I’m pleased to meet you, Miss Damonson. Considering that you’re an old friend of Lord Branford’s, you must join me in attempting to cajole him into holding a Christmas ball at Summerton Hall. After all, if he simply must bury himself here in the country for the holidays, the least he can do is plan some entertainments for those of us who have joined him.”
Merry glanced at Edward. The color of his face rivaled the red of holly berries, just as it had the few times in the past when she’d seen him grow angry. His lips when he spoke barely parted, as though he was forming the words through clenched teeth. “Regina, please refrain from pestering Miss Damonson. I’m sure she already has a full schedule of holiday entertainments.”
An impulse that seemed to come from nowhere lifted Merry’s lips into a smile as she responded. “Why no, my schedule is not full at all, Lord Branford. I would adore attending a ball at Summerton, and I’m sure your mother will be happy to serve as your hostess.”
Edward’s eyes widened as he turned his gaze toward Merry. “As you may recall, Miss Damonson, my mother moved to Bath after my father’s death, and she is not fond of travel this time of year.”
“No doubt that’s true, so it’s especially fortunate that she is already at the squire’s residence visiting him and your Aunt Bertha,” Merry informed him, feeling somewhat smug at having knowledge he did not possess. “As a matter of fact, I chatted with Mrs. Everton on Sunday when I ran into her at church. She had no idea you were planning to spend the Christmas season here in the country.”
“Nor did I know she intended to visit. I sent her a letter detailing my plans, and I’m sure she did the same for me. Obviously, our missives crossed somewhere along the way.”
Merry acknowledged his words with a nod. “In any case, once she learns you’ve returned to Summerton for the season, I suspect she’ll join you, and, knowing how much she always enjoyed her Christmas festivities in the past, I believe she could be persuaded to serve as your hostess at a Summerton ball.”
Edward sighed. “Even if you are right, there’s not enough time to plan a ball before Christmas.”
“Of course there’s enough time,” Merry responded. She really did not understand why she was behaving in this manner, practically forcing a ball on Edward that he clearly did not wish to host. Nevertheless, she persisted. “You can invite all of the neighbors. In fact, I’ll help write out the invitations if your mother wishes. And your newly acquired friends will wish to attend too.” She cast an exacting look towards Regina. “It’s time we all got to know each other.”
She quickly shifted her gaze to Edward. “That’s settled then. I’ll visit your mother this afternoon and ask if she will serve as your hostess for the ball. I’ll also seek her approval of a date. What do you think, Edward? Would two evenings prior to Christmas be agreeable?”
Edward stared at her for so long that Merry had trouble maintaining her smile. Obviously, he knew she was up to something and he was attempting to figure out what. Perhaps he had an inkling of her motives because he finally returned her smile. “Two evenings prior to Christmas will be perfect for me, Merry. I mean, Miss Damonson.”
Regina stepped forward and placed a hand on Edward’s arm. She glared at Merry and then glanced toward Edward. “Calling each other by your given names?” Her lips twitched. “Goodness! I had not realized you two were so close. Or are manners that much less formal in this part of the country?”
Merry did not answer. She couldn’t because Edward was now gazing deep into her eyes. She tried to look away but his expression held her enthralled. In his eyes she could read a bit of confusion, possibly even some irritation with her, but underlying all of that, she was almost positive she detected a healthy helping of the love he had once professed for her.
But that could not be. Obviously, he did not love her or he would not have ignored her for so long. She wrenched her gaze away from him and instead looked into Regina’s narrowed eyes. “It was a pleasure to meet you,” she murmured, then turned and hurried back through the forest toward her own home. Strangely, despite her misgivings about having Edward back in the neighborhood for Christmas, she now found herself looking forward to the festivities, even if the new year promised to bring her another round of heartaches.