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Chapter 11
Christmas Day dawned,and Alice and Joseph quickly dressed for services. The ride to the church house was short, and though it was cold outside, the roads were clear after their last snow fall and the carriage was warm thanks to a lovely heated brick. Alice had never felt particular gratitude for not needing to wear glasses every day, but now that she’d worn them out in the cold several times, she was always thankful when she was venturing out as Lady Nightingale and could leave her spectacles at home.
Alice kept hold of Joseph’s hand as they made their way to their family pew. Though Joseph smiled enough during the carriage ride there and even as they wound their way between the many parishioners, as the vicar spoke on about the first Christmas morning, Joseph’s demeanor shifted.
He grew still, which was a most unusual thing for him, and then his brow creased. Alice kept glancing at him out of the corner of her eye while trying not to draw too much attention to the fact. Joseph’s mouth formed a firm line, and he drew his feet up and onto the bench. With his knees sticking up, he rested his elbows against them and then placed his chin on his folded arms. Normally, Alice would have reminded him not to put his shoes up on the bench, but he seemed so intent on something, focused but also upset.
There was only one thing that made Joseph anything less than joyful and energetic—and that was heartbreak over not having a father.
The sermon ended, and those around them stood and began leaving. The doors opened and cold swept through the room, settling about Alice’s feet. She sat silently for several minutes, the din of many voices calling out “Merry Christmas” filling the entire chapel.
After a minute, Alice leaned toward her little boy. “Joseph, the sermon is over. We ought to return home.”
He didn’t move, didn’t even look over at her.
Alice placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right, my dear?”
At length, he looked up at her. “Christmas holidays are almost over,” he said, his voice laced with worry.
She didn’t have to ask why he was so concerned that the season would end soon.
Joseph scooted closer to her on the pew. “Do you really think Father Christmas will bring me a new papa this year?”
Oh, how she wished she could say yes, for his sake. Instead, all she could honestly tell him was, “I don’t know.”
His shoulders sagged, and he leaned heavily against her. “I know it’s asking a lot. But you said if anyone could get me a new papa, Father Christmas could.”
Well, she didn’t remember saying it exactly like that. But she also didn’t doubt that her ill-spoken words hadsoundedlike that to Joseph.
Alice draped an arm around Joseph, pulling him closer and rubbing his arm. There was yet one more gentleman of her acquaintance who might prove a fine fit for herself and Joseph. Lord Oakley was rumored to be coming to Carlaby for Christmas but had thus far been detained. She’d had it on good authority that he had arrived at last and would be at the Christmas Day ball tonight. Alice could only hope he didn’t prove as disappointing as the other two prospects had.
Lord Brooks’s face floated to the surface of her thoughts. She could not deny that she far preferred his company to any other. She loved his openness, how he laughed and joked so easily no matter his current situation, and that he saw good in others regardless of their station.
She blinked a few times and looked once more at her son. For Joseph’s sake, however, she needed to stop spending so much time with the man. She wasn’t so big a fool to thinkhecould ever fill her son’s need for a father. Lord Brooks needed to marry for money, and while Alice had that in droves, she could never be with a man who came into the marriage broke. Not that she faulted Lord Brooks for his current financial situation—that was her own father’s fault, no doubt.
But how could she even begin to trust a man who so desperately needed her money? She would forever wonder if he hadn’tforcedhimself to love her for her wealth. Every kind word from him, ever generous act, she would be left questioning the reasons behind it. Was it truly for her? Or was it truly because he needed her wealth? She could hardly tolerate such an uncertain life.
No, the only way she would know for certain a man loved her was if money was taken out of the equation altogether. If she married a gentleman who didn’t need her wealth at all, then she could more easily trust his motives.
On top of that, Lord Brooks still detested her father and didn’t particularly like her because of it.
No, nothing could ever happen between them.
“Shall we return home? I do believe Cook has some sweetmeats and plum pudding she’s been saving for today.”
Joseph didn’t move or say anything, but he did sigh loudly. Poor boy. How her heart ached that he was growing up without a father.
“Good morning to you, Lady Nightingale, Lord Hoskins.”
Alice looked up and found the vicar standing just beside their pew. He was quite a young man for having already taken orders. With a fair complexion and not even a hint of facial hair, he almost looked like a boy in his father’s robes. Was this what other men saw when they looked at Mr. Allen? Someone whom they knew they needed to treat as a grown man, no matter how much they wondered how old he truly was?
Alice pushed the thought away before any of it showed on her face. “Good morning to you as well, Mr. Morton, and Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you, my lady.” Mr. Morton turned toward Joseph. “And how are you doing this fine Christmas morning, my lord?”
Joseph shrugged.
“Did you like the sermon?” Mr. Morton pressed.
