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The Christmas Card: The perfect heartwarming novel for Christmas from the Sunday Times bestseller
‘And at present there is only the cook, and a young girl who is terrified that she will be beaten for her clumsiness. I think dinner will be delayed a lot longer if we simply sit and wait for it to arrive.’ She walked off without waiting for his answer, and had just reached the baize door when he caught up with her.
‘You’re right, of course. You are a very wise young lady.’ He held the door for her. ‘And I look forward to furthering our acquaintance.’
‘Yes, indeed,’ she said vaguely as she hurried down the narrow staircase.
Cook stared at them in amazement. ‘Oh my Lord, whatever next? The silly girl told me that she’s dropped the plates, and she’ll be punished severely.’
‘It’s all right, Mrs Jugg,’ Alice said calmly. ‘It was an accident and no one blames Clara. She is going to clear up the broken china and we will take the food upstairs.’
‘Oh, no, miss. That’s not right at all. And you, sir, what must you think of us?’ Mrs Jugg glanced anxiously at Horace as if expecting the worst.
Alice picked up the soup tureen and passed it to Horace. ‘Mr Hubble is in complete agreement with me.’
His sickly smile was unconvincing, but he nodded his head. ‘Just this once.’
Alice went to the dresser and selected four soup bowls. She picked up a basket of bread rolls. ‘Tell Clara not to worry, Mrs Jugg. It could have happened to anyone.’
Cook’s lips worked soundlessly as Clara rushed in from the scullery armed with a brush and coal shovel. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she breathed. ‘Ever so sorry.’
Alice stood back to allow her to race on ahead. ‘She’s a good girl,’ she said firmly. ‘Nothing more will be said, Mrs Jugg. And the soup smells delicious.’
‘There’s roast beef to follow. The mistress always puts on a show for her cousin. He’s her only living relative, apart from you, of course, Miss Alice.’
Alice knew that, but it did not explain the extravagance of the hospitality, or her aunt’s desire for them to meet. She hurried after Horace and arrived in the dining room as he was about to place the tureen on the table.
Jane stared at them both, aghast. ‘Horace, what do you think you’re doing? And you, Alice, you should know better.’
‘There was a slight mishap due to that clumsy young maidservant, but I could not bear to think of you waiting a moment longer for such an excellent repast,’ Horace said, taking the credit for the idea even though he had been against it at the start. ‘Miss Radcliffe was kind enough to assist me.’
‘I’ve a good mind to send Snippet back to the workhouse. One takes these people in for the most Christian reasons and they invariably fail in their duties.’
Horace lifted the lid and was about to begin serving the soup when Jane held up her hand.
‘We haven’t yet said grace.’ She launched into a much shortened version of the prayer. ‘I don’t know why I burden myself with these charity cases. They always let one down,’ she added at the end.
‘Your acts of generosity to the poor are well known, Cousin,’ Horace said, ladling soup into a bowl and placing it in front of her. ‘The world would be a happier place were there more people like you.’
Jane smile modestly. ‘You’re too kind, Horace. Do sit down and enjoy your meal.’ She clicked her fingers at Alice. ‘You may finish serving the soup, and after dinner you will go down to the kitchen and tell Snippet that unless she pulls herself together she will spend Christmas in the workhouse.’
‘That seems a little harsh, sister-in-law,’ Beth said timidly. ‘The child is very young and she will learn.’
Alice filled a bowl with soup and passed it to her mother with a grateful smile. She knew how much courage it would have taken to enable her to speak up for Clara. ‘I agree with Mama,’ she said stoutly. ‘Snippet is eager to improve.’
Jane’s brows drew together in an ominous frown, but Horace beamed at Alice. ‘Well said, Miss Radcliffe.’ He used his table napkin to mop up the soup as it dripped from his moustache. ‘You have inherited my cousin’s charitable nature.’ He shot a sideways glance at Jane, who snatched up a bread roll and tore it into tiny pieces, popping one into her mouth and grinding it with her teeth.
Alice repressed a shudder as one of Flora’s nightmare sketches flashed before her eyes. Jane was suddenly the wicked witch about to eat Hansel and Gretel. She blinked hard and found Horace staring at her with a bemused expression. She managed a weak smile. ‘The soup is delicious.’
Jane curled her lip. ‘This will be our festive repast. I spend Christmas Day attending church services. You would do well to come with me, Alice.’
‘I would, of course,’ Alice said quickly, ‘but I’m afraid I have to work. Mrs Dearborn has not given me the day off.’ It was not exactly a lie, nor was it the complete truth. In fact, nothing had been mentioned by the lady of the house, but Flora wanted her to be there, and even on such a short acquaintance her welfare had become important to Alice.
‘Really?’ Beth’s eyes were moist with unshed tears. ‘Must you, Alice? Surely everyone deserves to spend the day with their family?’
‘You’re invited too, Mama,’ Alice said in desperation. ‘Miss Flora will be glad of the company. The poor child spends most of her time alone in the nursery.’
‘I’m proud to belong to such a caring family,’ Horace said, clasping his hands as if in prayer. ‘Although I was hoping that perhaps I might be invited to spend Christmas Day here with my only living relatives.’
Alice held her breath, praying that Aunt Jane would not weaken, and she could have cried with relief when her aunt shook her head. ‘You have friends who will make you welcome, Horace. You’re always telling me how popular you are.’
‘Well, yes, indeed, but …’
‘No buts, Cousin. I’m sure you will find somewhere to go, but it won’t be here. I will be in church or helping the poor and needy, as is my wont.’
Horace mumbled something into his beard.
‘What did you say, Cousin?’
He gave her a sheepish grin. ‘I said you are a saint, Cousin Jane.’
She beamed at him. ‘Oh, no. That I am not, but I’m glad that Alice is taking her work seriously, and Beth can spend the day in bed if she so chooses.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘Alice, you may ring the bell, and if that stupid child doesn’t appear within minutes you will go below stairs and tell her to pack her bags.’
Snippet saved herself by arriving promptly, if a little dishevelled and out of breath, but she managed to clear the table without dropping anything and delivered the main course without further mishap. The roast beef was a bit tough, the potatoes not quite cooked through and the cabbage a little watery, but Horace ate ravenously and Jane cleared her plate. Alice had already eaten well that day and she only ate a small amount, and her mother, as usual, picked at her food, but there was apple pie to follow and that was delicious. The custard was thick and creamy and everyone did justice to the dessert, but the moment she had finished her meal Jane rose to her feet and announced that the evening must come to an end.
Horace stared at her. ‘But it is early as yet, Cousin. Might we not sit for a while and allow our meal to digest?’
‘There is nothing wrong with my digestion, Horace, and you have a long walk to your rooms in West Smithfield. Unless, of course, you intend to take a cab.’
‘That costs money, my dear cousin, and as you know my finances leave much to be desired.’
‘And that is because your father was a gambler and risked his fortune on unwise investments. My own dear Robert was a prudent man. He strived hard to provide for us in our old age.’
‘And he worked himself to death, Cousin.’ Horace’s moustache quivered with suppressed emotion. Alice could not be sure whether it was grief or indignation, but he was obviously moved.
‘Robert did not work himself to death. He caught lung fever when visiting the docks, and that was what took him to an early grave.’ Jane produced a hanky and dabbed her eyes. ‘I was widowed at the age of thirty-five and my heart is interred with my beloved husband.’
Horace rose to his feet. ‘We all share your sorrow, Cousin.’ He turned to Alice with a wolfish smile. ‘Will you see me out, Miss Radcliffe? Or may I call you Alice?’
‘I will see you out.’ Jane stood up, brushing crumbs from her skirt. ‘It’s not proper for a young unmarried woman to be alone in the company of an eligible gentleman. You know that as well as I do, Horace.’
He bowed, clicking his heels together. ‘You are right as always, Cousin Jane. Please forgive me for my boldness, but in the face of such youth and beauty I’m afraid it is difficult to remain aloof.’
Alice stared at him in horror. If Horace Hubble had any romantic ideas in his head he would do better to forget them. The mere sight of him revolted her and although they had only just met, her first impression of him had been far from favourable. For once she was grateful to her aunt for her rigid sense of propriety. Jane shooed Horace out of the room and Alice turned to her mother with a sigh of relief.
‘Would you believe that, Mama? He seems to think a lot of himself.’
‘I suspected that Jane had an ulterior motive in having him here tonight and treating us all to such a meal.’
‘I can’t think what that would be.’
‘Nor I, but I’ve heard your papa speak about Horace’s father and it’s true that he went through a fortune by playing the stock market. They lost everything and George Hubble blew his brains out, leaving Horace with virtually nothing. It seems that both our families have been unlucky.’
‘Horace’s misfortune has nothing to do with us, Mama.’ Alice stared at her mother, eyebrows raised. ‘Apart from losing Papa and Uncle Robert, what else is there?’
Twin spots of colour stained Beth’s cheeks. ‘All families have something they want to hide or are ashamed of, darling. Forget I said anything.’
‘No, Mama. You can’t leave it like that.’ Her curiosity aroused Alice, moved to sit beside her mother.
‘I don’t suppose you remember your Aunt Viola, do you?’
Alice frowned. ‘Papa’s sister? I have a vague memory of her. She was young and pretty and she laughed a lot.’
‘Viola was headstrong and spoiled. She was your father’s half-sister, the child of your grandfather’s second marriage. You were only seven or eight when she eloped with a man who was totally unsuitable. It was a terrible scandal.
‘What happened to her, Mama? Where is she now?’
‘I was told that she died of consumption.’
‘Poor thing, how sad.’
‘The family hushed up the details. It was very tragic.’
‘What happened to her husband?’
‘They weren’t married. I don’t know what happened to him, and it was all a long time ago.’
‘How was Aunt Jane unlucky? What skeleton has she got hidden in her cupboard?’
‘It’s not a laughing matter, Alice.’
‘I’m sorry, but I don’t understand why Aunt Jane went to such a lot of expense entertaining her cousin.’
‘Perhaps she has a generous side to her nature. From the little I know about Horace I believe he works in a counting office somewhere in the City and lives in rented rooms in a poor area. You might say he’s come down in the world.’
‘But why did Aunt Jane want us to meet him?’
‘She once told me that she could not bear to think that the Hubble name would die out. Horace is the last in the line and hasn’t shown any inclination towards marriage.’
‘I doubt if there are many young women who would want him, unless they were desperate,’ Alice said, chuckling.
‘You shouldn’t judge a person by their looks, my love. Poor Horace wasn’t blessed with a handsome countenance, but I’m sure that deep down he’s a kind man and would make someone a good husband.’
‘You don’t think that Aunt Jane means me to be the sacrificial lamb, do you? That would be too ridiculous.’
‘Jane is a wealthy woman and Horace has few prospects. Without a son and heir the Hubble line will come to an abrupt end. Jane doesn’t want that to happen and I think she’s desperate to find a bride for her cousin.’
‘I pity the woman who is chosen, that’s all I can say.’
‘I was watching him closely and from the way he was acting and the attention he paid you, I think he sees a way out of his predicament.’
‘No!’ Alice stared at her mother in horror. ‘I wouldn’t marry Horace Hubble if he was the last man on earth.’ She spun round at the sound of the door opening and saw her aunt standing on the threshold. Judging by the sour expression on her face she had heard everything. ‘I – I mean it, Aunt Jane,’ Alice said hastily. ‘If you’re thinking of encouraging me to marry your cousin, it won’t work.’
Jane folded her arms across her chest. ‘While you live under my roof you will do as I say. Horace might not be a young girl’s dream of romance, but he is a respectable man of good family, and his wife will be assured of living in modest comfort for the rest of her life. I will see to that.’
‘I’d sooner die than agree to such a marriage,’ Alice cried passionately.
‘People are expiring on the streets at this moment, and you have your mother to consider, Alice. How do you think she would survive in the workhouse? I advise you to think about it very carefully.’
‘I’m sorry, Aunt Jane, but nothing you could do or say would make any difference. I don’t know Mr Hubble. He’s a stranger to me, as I am to him. Surely he wouldn’t consider marrying someone he didn’t know?’
‘My cousin will do as I think best. He knows that his future depends upon satisfying me that the Hubble name will live on. Our ancestors were here before the time of William the Conqueror and we once owned half of Kent. Marry Horace, give him a son, and then we will all be happy.’
‘You might be,’ Alice said indignantly, ‘but I wouldn’t.’
‘It is asking a lot of her,’ Beth said softly. ‘Surely it would be better to allow them to get to know each other before making such demands, Jane?’
Jane turned on her in a fury. ‘What do you know about anything? You had neither brains nor breeding and you didn’t bring a dowry to the marriage. Clement could have done so much better.’
‘We were happy.’ Beth’s voice broke on a sob. ‘We loved each other. Doesn’t that count for anything?’
Alice moved swiftly to her mother’s side, placing her arm around Beth’s trembling shoulders. ‘Leave Mama out of this, Aunt Jane.’
Jane tossed her head. ‘I have only this to say to you, Alice Radcliffe. Agree to marry my cousin or leave this house and make your own way in the world. It’s your choice.’
Chapter Four
Reluctantly, and only because of her mother’s weakened state of health, Alice agreed to consider Horace’s proposal should he pluck up the courage to make her an offer of marriage. She had no intention of accepting him, but until she could earn enough to support her mother and herself they would have to rely on Aunt Jane’s charity. The future looked bleak, but Alice Radcliffe was not one to give in without a fight. She went to bed in the cold, cheerless room with the precious Christmas card tucked beneath her pillow. To anyone else it might be just a piece of paper, but to her it was a symbol of family, love and security. No one could take away what was in her heart, not even Aunt Jane.
The child who greeted Alice next morning was totally different from the angry little girl of yesterday. Flora was up and dressed and had even made an effort to drag a comb through her tousled mop of hair.
She gave Alice a wide smile. ‘I was afraid you wouldn’t come.’
‘Why would you think that? I made a promise and I always keep my promises.’
‘Most grown-up people don’t,’ Flora said darkly. ‘They’ll say anything to keep me quiet, and then they go away and forget about me.’
Alice took the comb from her hand and began teasing out the tangles. ‘Well, I’m not like that, Flora.’
‘And will we still go outside and play snowballs?’
‘Yes, of course.’
‘And decorate the tree?’
‘Yes, if your mama permits.’
‘She will or I’ll have a tantrum and scream until I make myself ill, or else I’ll hold my breath until I go blue in the face. That usually works.’
Alice shook her head. ‘I think we might be able to persuade her without you endangering your own life. We’ll try, shall we?’
‘Oh, all right,’ Flora said reluctantly. ‘Do we have to wait until after breakfast? I’m not really hungry.’
‘We don’t want to upset Cook, especially as she’ll be very busy with preparations for tomorrow. Can you imagine what it must be like to work in a hot kitchen?’
Flora put her head on one side, frowning. ‘No. I’m not allowed below stairs.’
‘Then perhaps we ought to visit the kitchens, and you can see how the servants have to live and work.’
‘Mama wouldn’t like it, but I would.’ Flora snatched the comb from Alice’s hand. ‘Shall we go now?’
‘Maybe later, but I think I hear Nettie coming with our breakfast. Don’t forget to thank her.’
‘Thank her? She’s a servant. We don’t thank them.’
‘Well, we do now,’ Alice said firmly. ‘I’m a servant in this house and you thank me.’
‘You’re different. I like you.’
‘And I like you too.’ Alice heard the rattling of china as Nettie struggled outside the door and she moved quickly to open it for her. ‘Good morning, Nettie,’ she said cheerfully.
‘Good morning, miss.’ Nettie shuffled over to the table and put the tray down with a clatter, spilling some of the milk from the blue-and-white china jug.
‘Thank you, Nettie,’ Alice said, nodding to Flora.
‘Thank you,’ Flora echoed, although she did not sound very convincing.
Nettie shot her a sideways glance. ‘I’m sorry I spilled the milk, but me chilblains are playing up this morning. You won’t tell on me, will you, miss?’
Flora shrugged. ‘I’ll throw the jug across the room, if you like. They expect me to do things like that.’
Nettie’s horrified expression made it hard for Alice to keep a straight face. She patted her on the shoulder. ‘Miss Flora is teasing you.’
‘Yes, miss.’ Nettie backed towards the door, opened it and fled.
‘Well done, Flora,’ Alice said, smiling. ‘You see, you can be nice when you put your mind to it. When Nettie gets over her shock she’ll be really grateful.’
Later, after what to Alice was now a magnificent breakfast of porridge, toast and strawberry jam, they put on their outdoor clothes and were making their way downstairs when Mrs Upton waylaid them outside the drawing room.
‘Where do you think you’re going, Miss Radcliffe?’
Flora’s small fingers tightened around Alice’s hand. ‘She’s taking me to play snowballs in the square gardens.’
‘Indeed she is not.’ Mrs Upton stood arms akimbo, glaring at Alice. ‘Miss Flora is not allowed outside unless accompanied by a responsible person.’
Alice drew herself up to her full height. ‘Flora is in my charge and I’ll see that she comes to no harm.’
‘That isn’t good enough. Miss Flora can be very persuasive when she wants to be and we’ve had incidences.’ Mrs Upton seized Flora by the shoulders and propelled her towards the staircase. ‘It’s back to the nursery for you, miss. Your mama will send word when she wishes to see you.’
‘But this is so unfair,’ Alice protested angrily. ‘I promised her that we could go out into the gardens and play snowballs. She’s just a child, Mrs Upton. I’ll keep an eye on her.’
Flora stamped her foot. ‘It’s always the same. They all hate me and want me to be miserable.’ She threw herself down on the floor, drumming her feet and screaming.
‘Now see what you’ve done.’ Mrs Upton spoke through clenched teeth. ‘She’ll make herself ill and we’ll have to send for the doctor.’
‘Why?’ Alice demanded, raising her voice to make herself heard above Flora’s screeching. ‘Why do you want to keep the child prisoner in her own home? Surely a breath of fresh air and some healthy exercise would do her more good than being shut up in the nursery?’
Mrs Upton drew her aside. ‘She has tried to run away several times. Keeping her under strict supervision is the only way to protect her from herself.’
Ignoring her, Alice went down on her knees beside Flora. ‘Stop this at once. This sort of conduct won’t get you anywhere.’
Flora quietened for a moment, eyeing her warily. ‘You’re supposed to be my friend.’
‘I am your friend, but if you continue like this you’ll only make things worse for yourself.’ Alice rose to her feet, holding her hand out to Flora. ‘Get up.’
‘Do as Miss Radcliffe says, Miss Flora.’ Mrs Upton’s voice shook with barely controlled anger. ‘Your mama will hear about this.’
Flora’s answer was to go into a fresh tantrum, sobbing and beating her fists on the floorboards.
‘What is going on?’ Lydia Dearborn leaned over the banister. Tendrils of fair hair escaped from beneath the goffered frill of her linen nightcap and she clutched her wrap around her. ‘Why is Flora dressed for outdoors? I gave explicit instructions that she was not to be allowed out of the house, Mrs Upton.’
‘It’s not my fault, ma’am,’ Mrs Upton said hastily. ‘It was I who prevented them leaving.’
‘Miss Radcliffe, I will have words with you later, but please stop the child making that dreadful noise.’ Lydia retreated to her room, slamming the door.
Flora stopped howling, but her whole body shook with suppressed sobs. ‘I – I hate you, Upton.’
‘That’s no way to speak to Mrs Upton,’ Alice said severely. She pulled Flora to her feet. ‘Say you’re sorry.’
‘But I’m not sorry. It’s the truth. I hate you all.’ Flora stamped her foot and genuine tears spurted from her eyes.
‘The child is a she-devil.’ Mrs Upton shook her head. ‘She’s past redemption. That’s what you get when you take a brat from the slums into a decent home.’
Alice placed her arm around Flora’s shoulders, holding her close. ‘It’s no wonder she misbehaves if that’s what you think of her.’
‘Mrs Dearborn will hear more of this and you will be replaced, Miss Radcliffe.’ Mrs Upton turned on her heel and marched off with the keys on her chatelaine jingling, but it was not the happy sound of Christmas bells.
‘Never mind, Flora,’ Alice said, taking her by the hand. ‘We’ll go back to the nursery and I’ll explain everything to your mama when she sends for me. I’m sure if she understands why we were going into the gardens then she’ll change her mind.’
Flora wiped her eyes on her sleeve. ‘Do you think so?’
‘I do indeed. After all, it is almost Christmas, the season of peace on earth and goodwill to all men.’ She chuckled. ‘And women, including Mrs Upton.’
The summons to the morning room came two hours later. Mrs Dearborn was seated by the fire, hands folded in her lap with a judgemental look on her face that did not bode well.
‘What did you think you were doing, Radcliffe? You know that Flora is easily upset and yet you decided to go against my wishes and take her out.’
‘I only intended to take her into the gardens, Mrs Dearborn. I thought that she would enjoy playing snowballs and running around like any ordinary child.’
‘I don’t pay you to think, Radcliffe. You will know by now that a previous employee filled the child’s head with nonsense about her natural mother. Flora is obsessed by the idea that she wants to find the woman.’
‘Then it is true, ma’am?’
‘Flora was adopted by my husband and me. She would never have known had it not been for the nursemaid who turned out to be a drunken slattern. Flora is unstable and given to bouts of temper tantrums that can only be controlled by large doses of laudanum. You were supposed to take care of her and prevent such outbursts.’
‘No one told me what to expect, Mrs Dearborn. But I don’t think that Flora is unstable, as you put it, and I decry the use of laudanum on such a young child.’
‘You dare to tell me what to do?’ Lydia stared at her, delicate eyebrows raised until they disappeared into her hairline. ‘What gives you the right to question my authority?’