Nathan Brearley was bored and irritable. He’d spent the earlier part of Christmas Day attending to his filial duties, and now it was six in the evening and he needed to escape the drawing room at Fenay Hall. He’d partaken of a sumptuous turkey dinner and played numerous foolish party games, several of them resulting in his having to kiss his cousin, Violet. That she had purposely arranged these forfeits did not escape Nathan’s notice. But he didn’t want Violet – he wanted Lacey.
‘Oh, don’t they make a charming couple,’ Violet’s mother gushed, waving her fan with one hand and clasping Jonas’s arm with the other.
‘Aye, they’re a bonny enough pair,’ Jonas agreed half heartedly, as he helped himself to another glass of port. Jonas was well aware that Alice Burrows, his wife’s second cousin, had set her heart on making a match between Violet and Nathan. He concentrated his gaze on his son. Nathan was reluctantly standing under a crystal chandelier festooned with mistletoe, Violet on tip-toe clinging to his lapels and waiting to be kissed.
Unfortunately for Violet, her protruding upper teeth and pouted lips were not the prettiest sight. Hesitantly, Nathan brushed her lips with his, unhanded her and strode across the fine Turkish carpet to the drinks trolley. He poured himself a hefty measure of whisky and swigged it in one gulp.
Jonas smiled sardonically. Aye, he mused, they might look a charming couple to you, Alice, but my lad has no notion of your Violet. In his mind’s eye he pictured Lacey Barraclough’s vibrant face and commanding eyes and wondered if the rumours he had heard at The Mill were true. Maybe he should have a word with the lad. Excusing himself, he left Alice and went to the bathroom. When he returned to the drawing room Nathan was nowhere in sight.
*
At the end of the lane leading to Netherfold Farm, Nathan stopped to catch his breath. He’d run all the way, buoyed by the whisky and the half bottle of wine he’d downed before leaving Fenay Hall. Now, the cold sobering air made him think twice. What would the mill hands and Lacey’s family think if he joined the party? Word that he had been there would be all over the Mill when they returned to work on Monday morning. Then there would be no hiding his relationship with Lacey.
Damn it, he ached to be with her, and to hell with the consequences. He’d socialised with the workers on the Mill outing at his father’s request. What difference was there in sharing their company tonight? Before his nerve wavered, he set off again at a run.
*
The kitchen and parlour at Netherfold were crammed with the Barracloughs’ friends and neighbours, all there to celebrate the festive season in high old fashion. It was something of a tradition for Edith to hold open house on Christmas Day evening. The sideboard was loaded with jugs of ale and bottled beer, the kitchen table swamped by a plentiful supply of cooked meats, mince pies and Christmas cake, much of it contributed by the revellers.
Lacey had decked the mantelshelf in the parlour with holly and ivy, the glossy green leaves and bright red berries glinting in the light from oil lamps and the blazing fire. A small spruce, aglow with baubles and tinsel stood in one corner. Spirits were high but Lacey felt detached from it all. Nathan hadn’t come; but what had she expected? He was lily-livered, his love for her not strong enough to defy his rearing.
‘Give us a Christmas kiss for old time’s sake, Lacey.’ Sam Barton, his handsome features and warm brown eyes alight with mischief, and love, dangled a sprig of mistletoe above Lacey’s head.
Lacey fleetingly pecked his lips. When he tried for more she pushed him aside. ‘Go away, Sam. I don’t feel like playing daft games.’
‘Suit yourself.’ Sam sauntered over to Mary Collier who obliged in an instant. Sam glanced over his shoulder to see if Lacey had noticed and, if so, was she envious.
Joan nudged Lacey. ‘Don’t take it out on poor Sam just because Nathan’s not shown up. You didn’t really expect him to, did you? I didn’t. I said as much to Stanley.’
Lacey glared at her. ‘Don’t be discussing me and Nathan wi’ Stanley,’ she hissed. ‘Nobody’s supposed to know.’
‘You can’t keep owt secret in Garsthwaite, Lacey. You should know that,’ said Joan, a little peevishly. ‘An’ anyway, maybe you’d be better off wi’ Sam; he’s really fond of you.’ She turned on her heel, and linking her arm through Stanley’s, left Lacey to her own devices.
Lacey stayed where she was. Perhaps Joan was right, she mused. With Sam there would be no problems regarding class; our backgrounds are the same. But I don’t love Sam – I love Nathan – even if, at times, he seems spineless. Yet, the pure joy we find in each other, the lively wit and thoughtful conversation makes me happier than I ever could be with Sam.
A sudden lull in the noise level from the kitchen had her peering through the adjoining doorway. Joshua and Matt, along with a few farmers and mill hands were all gawping at the tall, fair, expensively dressed man standing at the open back door.
Joshua was the first to recover. ‘Come in, lad, whoever you are, don’t just stand there; make yourself at home. Here have a sup.’ He thrust a bottle of beer into Nathan’s hand.
Lacey stayed where she was, shock and overwhelming joy rooting her to the spot: he’d actually come.
‘What about summat to go with it, sir?’ Billy Northrop, from the dye house, shoved a plate of mince pies under Nathan’s nose. On hearing Billy refer to Nathan as ‘sir’, Joshua’s eyebrows shot up and he looked questioningly at Billy.
‘It’s Master Nathan, from t’Mill, Jos; Jonas’s son,’ Billy explained. Joshua’s benevolent expression dissolved into a frown.
Quickly Lacey regained her composure. Thrusting her way through the crowd she held out her hand to Nathan and he took hold of it like a man clinging to a rock in a stormy sea.
‘I’m so glad you came.’ Lacey’s voice was calm but her heartbeat raced and hot blood warmed her cheeks. ‘Do come in and join us,’ she said, leading Nathan past the puzzled faces that openly asked, what’s he doing here?
In the parlour some of the male mill hands courteously touched their forelocks and the older women bobbed curtseys. The bluff farmers nodded greetings. Nathan took a deep breath. ‘No need to stand on ceremony,’ he said, his tone jovial, ‘I just thought I’d join you for a while. I’m told this is where the fun is.’ The tense atmosphere faded and Lacey could have kissed him.
Nathan observed the cheerful scene, his face alight with genuine admiration. ‘It’s jolly indeed, Lacey,’ he said, glancing over his shoulder and apologising unnecessarily as a string of merrymakers jostled him from behind. Lacey steered him towards a vacant armchair in a corner, dodging in and out of the revellers circling the room and singing at the tops of their voices ‘Here We Come A Wassailing.’
‘They’re inclined to get a bit rowdy,’ she said as Nathan flopped down in the seat. Lacey perched on the arm. Safely tucked in the corner, Nathan began to relax and enjoy the evening. Edith gave him a cautious welcome, as did Joan and Stanley.
When Sam Smethurst, a neighbouring farmer noted for his mellifluous tenor voice gave a beautiful rendition of ‘If You Were the Only Girl in the World,’ Nathan gazed up into Lacey’s eyes and softly sang along.
Next, the girls from the weaving shed performed a lively version of ‘Put Your Arms Around Me Honey, Hold Me Tight,’ Lacey leading them in her clear, sweet voice. After that an old, retired weaver gave a bawdy version of ‘The Foggy Dew’, the company roaring with laughter at the lewd ditties.
Lacey sensed Nathan’s discomfiture. ’It’s only a bit o’ fun, you’ve no need to feel embarrassed. We sing songs like that when we’re in the weaving shed; it makes time fly. But just because they’ve got mucky words, it doesn’t mean we behave like that.’
Nathan’s smile begged for understanding. ‘You must think I’ve had a sheltered upbringing, and I suppose I have. Maybe you’ll open up a whole new world for me once we’re married.’
Lacey thrilled at the words. He was such a gentle soul, and she loved him for it. ‘I might just do that,’ she whispered, her lips brushing against his ear.
Just then Arty Bincliffe loped into the parlour. Lacey jumped up. ’Who invited him?’
Jimmy’s eyes flashed defiantly. ‘I did. He’s me mate.’
Arty, the worse for drink, swayed further into the room, a bottle in his hand. Some of the merrymakers eyed him with open distaste, surprised to see him there. His eyes lighting on Lacey, he staggered towards her.
‘Ah, there you are Lacey, luv.’ He lurched forward, a lascivious grin masking his spotty face as he slurred, ‘Give us a kiss for Christmas.’
Lacey stepped back. ‘You’re not wanted here so take yourself off.’
‘Don’t be like that, luv.’ Arty pretended to look hurt. ‘If you want me to do you that favour you asked me about t’other night, you’ll have to be nice to me.’ He reached out to grab hold of her.
Before his hand could make contact, it was clasped firmly and twisted behind his back. Arty let out a yell and raised his free arm, the bottle flailing the air. Nathan dodged it neatly and spun Arty round.
‘The lady told you to go away. Now do that.’ He thrust Arty towards the door. Amazed, Lacey watched them go. Not so soft and gentle after all, she thought.
Matt hurried to assist Nathan, roaring, ‘Who the bloody hell let him in?’ Between them they shunted Arty out of the parlour and through into the kitchen, ejecting him unceremoniously into the yard. ‘Bugger off,’ Matt yelled after him, ‘an’ don’t come back.’
In the sudden lull the unpleasant incident provoked, Jimmy slunk into a corner, unnerved by the turn of events and afraid he would get the blame. When Nathan and Matt returned to the parlour, loud cheering broke out.
A hand clapped Nathan’s shoulder. ‘Good for you, sir, you showed that bugger off rightly.’ The mill hand’s praise, echoed by several others, had Nathan blushing to the roots of his scalp. Deeply self-conscious, he made his way back to Lacey’s side.
Lacey bobbed a curtsey. ‘Thank you, my gallant knight in shining armour.’
Nathan smiled modestly. ‘I could hardly stand by and watch that lout pester you.’ His brow creased. ‘What was the favour you wanted from him?’
Lacey, disinclined to tell him of Jimmy’s involvement with Arty, feigned ignorance. ‘I’ve no idea. He’s drunk, and drunks always talk rubbish.’ She didn’t want him thinking her family associated with scum such as Arty Bincliffe.
Nathan stayed far later than he intended. He chatted with Joshua and Matt about the farm, wished Joan and Stanley good luck for their forthcoming wedding and even spent time talking with Jimmy and some of the mill hands. Before he left he thanked Edith for her hospitality, his fulsome praise making her glow.
‘Maybe he’s not such a bad fellow after all. He seems fair set on our Lacey,’ she remarked to Joshua as they watched him go.
Lacey walked him to the end of the lane. ‘Thanks for coming. You’ve made it a very happy Christmas for me. I was proud to have you there with me tonight. You see; all manner of people can mix together if they have open minds. In the end nobody minded that you’re the boss’s son; they liked you for yourself, an’ you got along with them rightly.’
‘I thoroughly enjoyed myself,’ said Nathan, ‘for as you say, it’s how we behave not who we are that makes the world a better place.’ They kissed fondly, each reluctant to let the other go. ‘I’ll call for you at three on Saturday, the manager’s tea party begins about four so we’ll arrive in plenty of time for me to introduce you to my parents.’ A final kiss and they parted, Lacey returning to the kitchen elated.
Walking back to Towngate and home, Nathan couldn’t recall a pleasanter evening. He doubted Lacey would leave with the same euphoric feeling after her meeting with his family.