When Sparks Fly (11 page)

Chapter Eleven

Dear Charlotte,

Follow your heart if you must, madam. I suppose that is the way of all women, especially at this time of year.

With best wishes for a Merry Christmas,

Michael

I
f not for the worry in her heart, Ellie might have been amused by the heated conversation taking place between her father and the innkeeper. The Rose and Crown hadn't expected seven people for dinner. The innkeeper's wife had only planned a modest repast, since the other staff were celebrating with their families, a fact the innkeeper, a grizzled Yorkshireman, kept trying patiently to explain.

“We should have stayed at Thorncliff Hall,” Aunt Alys murmured beside her. “Your father can be so impetuous.”

Ellie sighed. The boys had done naught but complain since they'd left, and Meg kept asking when they were going to see Lord Thorncliff again—a question Ellie wanted answered as well.

Suddenly Charlie called out from the window, “Come see, everyone! There's a parade!”

A parade? On Christmas Day in a provincial town like Hensley? That was hardly likely. But when the others rushed to look out the window, she did, too. And what she saw struck the breath from her lungs.

Martin led a procession of servants in carts, his great black mare stamping majestically, ribbons streaming from his saddle. The greenery she and the children had used to deck the manor now adorned a cart pulled by a horse Huggett rode as he held a Yule candle high. And in the cart were . . .

“Look!” Percy cried. “His lordship has brought us Christmas dinner!”

As tears stung Ellie's eyes, she held her hand to her mouth to contain a sob of joy. He had indeed. More important, he had come for her. He had come!

At that moment, Martin looked up and spotted her in the window. Doffing his hat, he cast her a smile so brilliant that it warmed every inch of her heart.

“Now that's a sight for sore eyes,” the innkeeper said as he stared out. “Ain't seen his lordship smile like that since the terrible day his brother were killed. Some said he would never recover, he was that overwrought.”

Her father glanced to the innkeeper and then to her. “Is that so? I'd heard otherwise.”

Papa probed the man for more details and the innkeeper began supplying what he knew, but Ellie paid them no mind. She lifted her skirts and ran out.

In moments she was downstairs, reaching the door just as Martin opened it. Heedless of who might see them, he caught her up in his arms and kissed her soundly, his servants behind him letting out a cheer.

When he drew back, his eyes were shining and she had every answer she'd wanted. But before he could give her the words, too, her father appeared at the top of the stairs.

“See here, sir, unhand my daughter!”

“Papa—” she began.

“Let me handle this, love,” Martin murmured as he drew her to his side, keeping his arm anchored about her waist. “Good morning, sir. I see that you arrived safely.”

“Don't ‘good morning' me, you scoundrel,” her father said as he descended. “I want to know what you think you're doing with my daughter.”

The boys and Meg scrambled down behind him, eyes alight with curiosity, and the innkeeper helped her aunt move down enough to see what was happening.

As Ellie glanced at Martin, her heart in her throat, a twinkle appeared in his eyes. He pulled something from his pocket. “It's very simple. Your family and I played snapdragon the other night, and in the process I acquired this.” He held up the gold button. “I'm told it's the ‘lucky raisin,' allowing me to demand a boon of someone in the party. So I've come to demand it of your daughter.”

Percy snorted. “But
Ellie
was the one who—”

“Be quiet, Percy!” Aunt Alys hissed, making him jump.

Papa's eyes narrowed as he marched toward them. “And what boon might that be?”

Martin squeezed her side. “Her hand in marriage, sir.” He turned to her, his gaze as bright as the gold button. “I love you, Ellie, and I can't live another day without you. I will give up my penance for you. Will you take me, dangers and all?”

“Yes, Martin, yes,” she whispered. “I love you, too.”

“Now see here,” Papa broke in. “You're not the first man to be tempted by my daughter's fortune, but that doesn't mean—”

“I don't care about her fortune, sir,” Martin said evenly, turning to meet her father's stern gaze. “Though we would prefer to have your blessing.”

“What if my blessing comes at a stiff price?” her father asked in a hard voice. “Will you give up her fortune to have my blessing?”

“Papa! I
want
to marry him, and he deserves—”

“It's all right, Ellie,” Martin murmured. “I told you from the beginning, I don't need your money.”

“He don't, 'tis true,” the innkeeper put in. “Everyone knows that his lordship's estate brings in over five thousand a year. And the mine is earning more now than it ever did when his brother owned it.”

“What?” She twisted round to look over at the servants. “But Mr. Huggett said—”

“Forgive me, miss,” the butler replied with a blush. “You were so convinced that his lordship had fallen on hard times that it seemed rude to tell you otherwise.”

She let out a laugh, remembering how neatly Huggett had manipulated her into decking the manor in greenery despite his master's wishes.

She glanced up at Martin, who was eyeing her and Huggett with a perplexed expression, and flashed him a giddy smile. “Very well, sir, I shall grant your boon—though I do have one condition of my own.”

“Oh?” he asked, arching an eyebrow.

“You must promise never to get rid of Mr. Huggett.”

Martin began to laugh, and so did she. Then the boys joined them, dancing about while her father stood there stunned and her aunt beamed.

“Come now,” Martin cried, pulling Ellie out of the doorway. “The food is getting cold, and we have a dinner to eat.”

As the servants hauled in the roast goose and Christmas pie and plum pudding, the boys were beside themselves with joy, exclaiming over each new treat in wonder.

“His lordship knows how to keep Christmas well, if I do say so myself,” the innkeeper pronounced.

Little Charlie Dickens stared round at all the feast, and in a burst of pleasure cried, “God bless us, every one!”

And so He did.

Author's Note

Yes, I took the ultimate dramatic license—I put Charles Dickens himself in my book and gave him some of his own lines from
A Christmas Carol
. Fortunately the timing of my book was perfect for it, occurring exactly between when his family moved to a suburb of London and his father entered debtor's prison. How could I resist?

I also appropriated the invention of the safety fuse for my hero. The real inventor was a man named William Bickford, who lived in a mining town and decided to do something about all the needless deaths from explosion. His invention came about when he saw a man weaving rope and had a “Eureka!” moment. His design is the same one used today for fuses for explosives.

And yes, snapdragon was not only a real game, but it became quite popular in the Victorian era. It's not as bad as it sounds (I experimented to be sure). The song (contained in Robert Chambers's
The Book of Days
) is also real, although longer. The “lucky raisin” is a variant I was delighted to be able to use!

ALSO BY SABRINA JEFFRIES

THE DUKE'S MEN SERIES

How the Scoundrel Seduces

When the Rogue Returns

What the Duke Desires

THE HELLIONS OF HALSTEAD HALL SERIES

A Lady Never Surrenders

To Wed a Wild Lord

How to Woo a Reluctant Lady

A Hellion in Her Bed

The Truth About Lord Stoneville

THE SCHOOL FOR HEIRESSES SERIES

Wed Him Before You Bed Him

Don't Bargain with the Devil

Snowy Night with a Stranger
(with Jane Feather & Julia London)

Let Sleeping Rogues Lie

Beware a Scot's Revenge

The School for Heiresses
(with Julia London, Liz Carlyle & Renee Bernard)

Only a Duke Will Do

Never Seduce a Scoundrel

THE ROYAL BROTHERHOOD SERIES

One Night with a Prince

To Pleasure a Prince

In the Prince's Bed

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