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Prologue
Shropshire, England, Christmas 1803
Evelina sat at the top of the stairs, staring down at the ladies and gentlemen milling in the foyer of her home. Her eyes were wide with awe and wonder at the beautiful gowns of the ladies and the distinguished evening attire of the gentlemen.
They looked like something out of one of the fairy tales in the big book Mama read her before bed. It was as if the entire house and the inhabitants were under enchantment.
Spellbound, she cast her eyes around the foyer. Wreaths of holly, ivy and mistletoe were hanging everywhere, along with tall white pillar candles, their flames flickering faintly and casting small shadows on the walls and floor.
Her stomach clenched with excitement. Christmas Day was tomorrow. After her parent’s annual Christmas ball was over tonight and the last of the revellers gone, the big clock in the hallway would strike midnight, and it would finally be here.
Evelina loved Christmastide more than anything in the world. Every year, it was the same. Her mother would take her to Charingstoke, the village closest to their home at Bosworth Manor, to deliver packages to the villagers. Sometimes Mama would read Christmas stories to the village children, and there was always the village Christmas pantomime.
Often Mama would help with the preparations for it and Evelina would tag along. Mama was the lady of the grandest house in the district and took her role seriously with the local village. Her brother Richard spent more time with their father and didn’t accompany them. It was a special time, just for mother and daughter.
Her parents held the ball every year. Evelina’s nanny, Mrs. Rowe, told her it was the most anticipated event in the district. Every fine lady and gentleman eagerly looked forward to the Duke and Duchess of Bosworth’s Christmas Ball.
Preparations for the ball sent the entire household rushing around, and Mama threw herself into the planning. She and Evelina would go into the woods carrying large baskets, collecting the greenery for decoration themselves.
And now, here she was, in her nightgown with her hair in rags, watching the first guest arrive. Her stomach fluttered with excitement. She was only ten and not allowed to attend yet. Her older brother Richard was old enough though, and she watched him standing around downstairs. She was looking forward to the day she could dance at the ball.
When she was safely tucked in bed, she would hear the music and laughter rising from the ballroom and think about dancing with a handsome gentleman of her own at the ball before she drifted off to sleep.
Evelina squeezed her head between the rails of the banister, watching her mother and father come into view. She gasped. Mama looked so pretty tonight in her new pale pink silk gown, her jet black hair swept up in a high chignon, scattered with diamantes.
Papa looked handsome in his green velvet jacket. They had their arms around each other’s waists, laughing softly as they greeted their guests, staring at each other lovingly. Mama and Papa were so in love. Mrs. Rowe told her that her parents' great love story was well known around the district.
“Why, you are under the mistletoe,” cried a gentleman. “You know the tradition; you must kiss.”
Mama and Papa laughed. Evelina saw that her mother’s cheeks were a little pink with embarrassment. But then her father leaned in, kissing her lightly on the lips. The people in the foyer clapped. Evelina giggled. It was at that moment, when the kiss ended, that her mother looked up and saw her at the top of the staircase.
The Duchess sighed, sprinting up the staircase towards her daughter. Evelina got up quickly, smiling hesitantly at her mother. She looked even more beautiful this close, like a fairy princess.
“Evelina,” said her mother, taking her firmly by the hand. “You are supposed to be in bed! Where is Nanny?”
Evelina shrugged. “I think she is in the kitchen.” She gazed at her mother yearningly. “Oh please, Mama! Can I watch for just a little longer?”
“No,” said her mother, leading Evelina towards her chambers at the end of the hallway. “It is past your bedtime already, young lady.”
Evelina sighed, but there was nothing she could do. Her mother settled her back in bed, sitting on the side, gazing at her with such love that Evelina smiled. Mama never stayed mad at her for very long.
“Now, you must go to sleep,” said her mother in her soft voice. “For when you wake, it shall be Christmas Day. You want that to arrive, do you not?”
“Yes,” said Evelina, her eyes shining. “Very much.”
Her mother reached out, stroking her cheek gently. “Then you must rest, dear one. Try not to notice the sound of the ball. When you next open your eyes, Christmas will be here.”
Evelina sighed again, nestling down in the bed. Dutifully, she closed her eyes. She felt her mother’s soft kiss upon her forehead and inhaled the scent of her lavender perfume. Then she heard her footsteps leaving the room and the soft click of the door closing.
She turned over in the bed, squeezing her eyes shut. Only a few more hours until Christmas Day arrived.
At that moment, she heard the soft voices of wassailers at the front door. The local village children, singing Christmas songs for pennies. But she was so drowsy she couldn’t open her eyes again. Their sweet voices drifted into her ears, the harmonies and melody swirling around her head lulling her to sleep.
Christmas. It was a time like no other. She couldn’t imagine iteverchanging. She would stay at Bosworth Manor with Mama and Papa forever like this. She knew it.
Evelina turned to the other side, and with the sound of the wassailers still in her ears and the scent of her mother’s perfume in the air, finally drifted off into a blissful sleep, dreaming of the day to come.
Chapter 1
