Page 58 of Christmas Comes to Little Valentine

Nat obligingly lifted the stack of books and set them down on the floor as the reverend moved piles of papers and sundry items on his desk to make a space for the arrival of the tea tray.

“It all gets in such a shocking muddle,” he said with a sigh as he said down behind the desk. “My eldest daughter, Clemmie, used to manage it all for me, but she’s married now. Not that I’m complaining, her husband is a splendid fellow and they’re very happy. It’s just my youngest daughter with me now, and she is more of a dreamer and no better at organising than I am. Perhaps I need a secretary. She keeps urging me to get one… but you did not come here to listen to my domestic complaints. What may I do for you?”

“We’d like to get married,” Nat said, smiling at the fellow.

“Well, yes, I gathered that—oh! Do you mean to say you wish me to marry you, here in Little Valentine?” he asked eagerly.

“We do,” Meg agreed, touched by the sincere delight in the fellow’s eyes.

“Why, this is marvellous news! Simply marvellous! How delightful. Yes, indeed, I should be thrilled to do so. Now, when were you thinking of? I’m afraid the weeks before Christmas get rather desperately busy, but I could manage Boxing Day, if that suits you?”

“Oh. Well, it would, but we don’t have a special licence,” Nat replied regretfully. “By the time I’d gone to Doctor’s Commons and made the request, then waited for a response, even if they allowed it, which I doubt, we may as well have waited.”

“Ah, you say that,” the reverend replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “But it just so happens I have friends, shall we say, in high places.” He grinned, looking for all the world like an elderly schoolboy, up to no good.

“Could you really do it?” Nat asked, astonished. “I assumed we would have to wait for the banns to be read, but I cannot pretend I wouldn’t like to do it sooner.”

“I never make promises I cannot keep,” Honeywell said solemnly.

“What do you think?” Nat asked, turning to Meg, who had wondered how much such an extravagant thing as a special licence might cost, but the excitement in his eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“Perfect,” she said, quite unable to keep the smile from her face.

“Boxing Day it is, then,” Nat said, not taking his eyes from hers and reaching out his hand.

Meg took it, glancing shyly at the reverend, who was beaming with delight.

“A Christmas wedding!” he said, rubbing his hands together. “What could be nicer? I’m so pleased, and I thank you kindly for putting your faith in me. I shall do all I can to ensure the day goes off just as you would like.”

“We know you will,” Meg assured him, feeling rather dazed as she realised, in little more than a week, she would be a married lady.

Her future, which had seemed so dismal and hopeless, had suddenly become alight with hope and expectation. It felt like a dream.

The tea tray arrived, and Polly set it carefully down on the desk, but before Meg could offer to pour, the reverend got to his feet, rubbing his hands together.

“Well, never mind the tea, this calls for champagne!” he exclaimed, and hurried out of the door.

Polly sighed, shaking her head. “He does love a wedding celebration. I’d help yourselves to tea while you’re waiting, though. It will take him an age to select the perfect vintage for you.”

With this sage advice, the girl bobbed a curtsey and showed herself out.

It was sometime later before they left the vicarage, fortified by tea and cakes and several glasses of champagne. Meg was delighted to discover this treat was shared by the entire household, including Polly, all of whom toasted the happy couple. By this time, the sun had disappeared behind a bank of white cloud, and the first flutters of snow were drifting down. Nat laughed, turning to watch Meg as she stared up at the sky.

“You’ve got snowflakes on your eyelashes,” he said softly, cupping her cheek with his gloved hand.

“It’s so beautiful. Do you think it will settle?” she asked, hoping she might get to see the entire village blanketed in snow.

“Well, it’s got a way to go, but it’s possible. I remember one year when the servants had to dig out the front door, it was so thick. Hawkney and Aubrey and I made the biggest snowman you ever saw. And had snowball fights, obviously.”

“Obviously,” she said, amused, slipping her arm through his as they walked “Can we make a snowman?”

“Certainly. Have you never done so?”

Meg shook her head. “No, though we had plenty of snow when I was a child, I assure you.”

“Well, we must add it to the list of things to make your perfect Christmas,” he said firmly as he led her back to the hall, which was lit up and glowing with welcome. “Providing the weather plays along. I can’t be held responsible for everything, you know.”

“Foolish man! As if I would. Good afternoon, Howard!” she added, greeting the butler as he opened the door for them.