Once Upon A Christmas Past

16. Chapter 16

Chapter sixteen

“W hot you doin’ down there, chap?” The boy barely had the inclination to raise his head, his body made of ice, all hope drained from his heart. But when he did, his gaze landed upon a rough and tumble boy near his own age with a shock of red hair and the sunny eyes of a woodland creature. “If ye provide a bit of a distraction, I’ll win us some bread and tea.” The boy blinked three times before accepting the outstretched hand of the newcomer who promptly tugged him to his feet and said, “Name’s Archie.”

Raven’s ball gown floated out in a graceful circle as she twirled before the full-length mirror. The underskirt was the softest black silk overlayed with deep purple organza and a wispy tulle sprinkled with crystals like a sky full of stars. It was quite the most magnificent gown she’d ever seen. She smoothed down the lace-trimmed, violet bodice, trying in vain to calm her trepidation. The wedding announcement loomed closer, and at least once every moment, Raven doubted she could go through with it.

“That fabric brings out your eyes.”

Raven whirled to find Belinda perched upon her vanity chair.

“Bel!” Raven ran to her sister. “I’m so very sorry! I didn’t mean to banish you.”

“I know that, you ninny.” Bel smiled. But it wasn’t just any smile, this was the old Bel; her sister who could conquer the world with the curve of her lips. Joy shimmered around her like a halo.

Raven studied her. “Bel…where have you been?”

“Around, as usual,” she said with a twirl of her wrist. But her eyes twinkled, and her mouth curled up at the corners.

“Around with Mr. Fox?” Raven lifted her brows.

“Mayhap.” Her smile faded. “But you needn’t worry about me. It’s all for a good cause.”

“A good cause?” Raven asked as she debated whether to wear her engagement ring. Surely it would appear suspicious if she did not.

But Brit.

Her heart gave a squeeze. He had defended her—protected her—while she treated the unconscious woman at the shelter. While John stood back and watched, not lifting a finger until she forced his hand.

And what he’d said about not allowing her to practice medicine made her want to toss his ring into the fire to watch it tarnish and burn.

Her mother was right, of course, that the cost of breaking her engagement could have dire consequences for their family’s social status. But as Father had said, they’d weathered worse and survived. Was it really worth marrying someone she was beginning to distrust? Even dislike?

She picked up the heavy emerald engagement ring. With the diamond and twilight amethyst tiara woven into her upswept hair, she hardly needed more jewelry, but she slipped the gaudy ring on her finger and turned back to her sister.

“Yes, a good cause that will be revealed in time,” Bel said mysteriously.

Too preoccupied with her own drama, Raven only asked, “Will you attend the ball?”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Bel declared.

The old Fezziwig Warehouse appeared like something out of a Christmas fairytale. Candelabras in a variety of colors and shapes hung from the ceiling on long chains wound in ribbons of gold and silver, their lowered height lending intimacy, as well as plentiful light, to the open space. Streamers of evergreen, dotted with crimson berries and sugar-coated plums adorned the walls and doorways. Round tables circled the room, each one topped with a unique Christmas centerpiece. There were delicate dancing ballerina dolls in sparkling tutus, swans floating in icy ponds of hardened sugar, tall glass jars full of colorful ornaments, and miniature, ceramic forests of white, pink, and gold evergreens on a bed of cottony snow. And Raven’s favorite; angels with fluffy, white wings suspended on strings, flying above a humble manger.

Perhaps it was the magical environment, but an unaccountable hopefulness flickered in Raven’s chest as if anything could be possible on this eve of the great miracle.

The band struck up a lively tune, and couples flooded the dance floor.

Raven searched the room, and not seeing the dark hair and broad shoulders she wished to see, headed to the refreshment table. Delightful, handmade fairies with iridescent wings and peach skirts perched on the edge of a bowl of persimmon pudding, pirouetted past piles of luscious fig tarts topped with gooseberries, and blew kisses by a platter of iced biscuits. Raven poured herself a glass of cranberry punch as Martha approached with a wide smile.

“I think this is quite the best turnout we’ve had yet, don’t you?” Martha said, gesturing to the crush of people.

“Yes. I do think Mr. Scrooge would be pleased.”

“When is the big announcement?” Martha asked.

“I am not…” Raven bit her lip, her optimism from moments before dashed. “…certain.”

Martha searched her younger sister’s face. “Uncertain when or…if?”

“I don’t believe I have a choice if I wish for our family to remain in good standing.” Raven felt a knot begin to form in her gut.

“We are hardly a traditional family. I think we will survive.” Martha’s sincere brown eyes held Raven’s.

“But Mother wants—”

“Mother wants her children healthy and happy above all else.” Martha gave an encouraging nod and then her eyes darted past Raven’s head. “And here comes your solution now.”

Raven turned to find Brit cutting through the crowd and the knot in her gut loosened, her muscles relaxing. And it wasn’t because of the way he filled out his suit or the strong bones of his face. Or even the way he strode toward her with singular intent, eyes fierce, jaw flexing. It was that she now saw his huge, heart, his sharp mind, and his warrior’s soul—as if he would fight any monster, overcome any obstacle to help those he loved, and even those he barely knew who needed him. Like little Joey.

The smile dawned from somewhere deep as she met his eyes.

He bent in a bow and extended his gloved hand. “How are you this evening, Miss Cratchit?” Then he arched a brow. “Or should I say Doc Cratchit?”

Impossibly, her smile widened. “I do love the ring of that title. But Raven will do…for you.”

The long dimple appeared in his cheek as his lips tilted and he reeled her closer, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her arm below her sleeve and above the long glove she wore. “Well then, Raven,” his voice a deep rumble. “Would you like to dance?”

“Yes,” she answered in a breathless whisper.

They joined the waltzing couples and he asked, “So why a ball in an old warehouse? What is the significance of the name Fezziwig?”

Brit surprised her with the casual grace and the strength with which he moved her around the floor, so it took her a moment to catch her breath and respond, “Oh, Fezziwig is a nod to Mr. Scrooge’s past.”

Brit froze, and they stopped dancing mid-stride. “Did you say Scrooge?”

“Why yes. Ebenezer Scrooge. Did you know him?”

“It couldn’t possibly be the same old curmudgeon,” Brit said almost to himself.

“It most definitely could,” Raven chuckled, remembering the miserly man Mr. Scrooge had once been. Before that long ago Christmas. Before three miraculous visitations that had opened his eyes to the true meaning of Christmas and, in turn, life.

As if he hadn’t heard her, Brit said, “Because that man threw me out on my ear on Christmas Eve for spilling his precious stew.”

Realizing they were blocking part of the dance floor, Raven drew Brit into a shadowed alcove behind a scarlet curtain and gazed up at his stunned countenance. “What do you mean?”

“I’d lived with traveling merchants for as long as I could remember, but that winter, the woman I’d believed to be my mother sold me to a crotchety old businessman. I worked for Scrooge for two weeks, and they were some of the most miserable days of my life.” Brit raked his fingers through his hair, the strands gilded by moonlight streaming through a high window. “Or so I’d thought until I ended up living in the streets.”

He looked like a lost, little boy as he stared into the middle distance, unblinking. Raven took his hand in hers. “You became a thief to survive.”

“Yes.” His heated gaze shifted to hers, brows lowered. “I blamed him…have hated Ebenezer Scrooge most of my life. How could he possibly be a hero to your family?”

Raven thought her heart might fracture for the young, abandoned boy Brit had been. She could see him; all long limbs, too-big feet, and freckles. She could see why he hated the man Ebenezer used to be. Brit glared into the middle distance as if reliving his past. She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry, Brit, for all you’ve endured. But believe me when I tell you that it is possible for people to change. Mr. Scrooge transformed into a generous, loving man who spent the remainder of his life helping others. Although that doesn’t change what you endured because of him, I hope you can forgive him someday.”

Brit’s dark gaze moved back to hers and softened. “I cannot fully blame him. He was only one of a sequence of tragedies that shaped my life.” He took a step closer to her. “Ultimately, it all led me to this moment. To you.”

His singular focus upon her, Raven felt a blush heat her face.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said.

“For what?” Raven lifted her eyes higher to meet his. Standing so close to him, she was hyperaware of his every move, his every breath.

“For everything,” Brit replied, his voice low and soft as his hand moved up her arm.

“Why do I feel like this is a goodbye?” Raven whispered.

Brit’s palm cupped her cheek, angling her chin with exquisite gentleness as his gaze locked on her mouth. His eyes churned like a starless sea, his hair tumbling across his brow as he whispered, “If it is, then I better make this count.” He lowered his mouth to hers.

The kiss exploded through Raven like a firework. Brit’s lips glided across hers, tender at first and then insistent as he wrapped his arm around her waist to lock her close. Raven melted into him. She had wanted this for so long, yet the touch of his lips, his tongue, exceeded all her expectations.

His big hands gripped her hips, and he deepened the kiss. Raven’s world twisted and spun, merging into a fluid harmony that felt like molten heat and glorious fire in her veins. She caressed his neck, his jaw, his face, then her fingers slipped into the silk of his hair as she stood on her toes, straining to get closer. It was the sort of kiss that would imprint on her skin, her heart, forever.

He pulled back. “Bloomin’ hell,” he panted. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me.”

Raven, still catching her breath, but not willing to let him go, leaned her forehead against his chest. “Why are you saying goodbye?"

“Because after I lose the title, I doubt we will cross paths. An English proctor and a countess? You won’t even visit Hill House as a doctor anymore.”

She leaned back to look at him while keeping her arms around his waist. “First, who says I won’t be doctoring? And more importantly, what do you mean lose the title?”

“I know John’s wishes for your future, and I’m sorry for it.” Gently, Brit removed her arms from around him and took a step back. “As to the rest, I thwarted John and George’s plans to contest the will by destroying papers they had forged that disavowed my identity. But it wasn’t enough. I mentioned to you that if I do not find a wife by my next birthday, I forfeit the title and the fortune. I suppose my father wanted to insure an heir. Which I understand, but that doesn’t change the fact that my birthday is…tomorrow.”

His dark gaze drilled into hers. “And there is only one person I wish to marry, and she…” He swallowed, his throat bobbing before he clarified, “ You are promised to my brother.”

“I don’t care.” The words escaped Raven’s lips before she’d realized what she was going to say. “I’m not scared anymore. I want this…us.”

Brit searched her face, heartache shining in his eyes as he said roughly, “I can’t do that to you. I love you too much.”

Before she could respond, he turned and slipped between the curtains.

What the bloody hell , had he just done?

Brit moved across the dance floor through swirling skirts, strode across the room to the refreshment table, and downed a glass of punch in one gulp. Unsure if he should stay or leave, he wandered toward a set of Christmas trees flanking a doorway. Perhaps if he could escape from the crowds and the noise, he could re-center his thoughts.

He slipped past the trees into a long, empty corridor lined on both sides with closed doors. He leaned against the wall, resting his head against the cool plaster as he squeezed his eyes closed.

Had he just left Raven alone after kissing her until neither one of them could breathe? After telling her he loved her ? He’d never been a coward, but he sure felt like one.

He sighed. He had to go back and talk to her.

Brit pushed off the wall but before he could take a step, a hand gripped his shoulder from behind. “It’s over.”

John.

Brit turned and shook off John’s grip as George stepped through one of the doorways and gave Brit a tight nod.

“What’s over?” Brit demanded. “Your dignity? That, I can believe.”

“You thought destroying our paperwork would change things, but it turns out we didn’t have to do a thing. You disqualified yourself.” John smiled slowly, lips stretching over lots of teeth. “The thought that you could take my place as earl is ludicrous. A street rat, like you? You don't have an ounce of Mother’s dignity and you certainly aren't the leader your father was. You’ve never been good enough and you just proved it.”

“I saw you sneak off the dance floor with Miss Cratchit,” George said. “When she emerged, her hair was disheveled, and her cheeks bright red.”

Brit opened his mouth to defend Raven when something John said caught his attention. You’ve never been good enough… What had John said the first day they’d met? If I would have known— He’d been referring to their father, Brit’s father who had gone off the deep end and ignored John and George after Brit had been taken. Alarm bells sounded in Brit’s head.

He’d missed a vital detail, a clue to what had happened to him all those years ago to separate him from his family. But it couldn’t be. No one was that devious at such a young age.

Except maybe his own brother.

Raven walked to the table where she’d left her reticule and slumped into one of the fabric-covered chairs. Brit would lose everything…the title, the money, and his family’s legacy if he didn’t marry by midnight. She opened her handbag and checked the watch inside. It was after nine o’clock which meant he had less than three hours. Impossible.

But he loved her. Joy sparkled through her like bubbles of light. Each one of them popping as logic took over emotion. She would gladly marry him that night, but they couldn’t marry by midnight without a license. Pop. She didn’t care about his money or his title. But clearly, he did. Pop! And she was already engaged to marry his brother . POP! She could break it off. She would do it right then before the wedding announcement was made.

She could still make this right.

Raven stood up and began to search the crowd. Surely, John and George had arrived.

“Raven,” a voice spoke near her ear.

She spun to find Belinda and Archie Fox standing behind her.

Raven’s hand flew to her chest. “You gave me a fright.”

“I’m sorry,” Bel said, “But there’s something you need to see.”

“Or hear,” Archie said.

“Or both.” Bel took her arm and it felt like a feather brushed across Raven’s skin. “We have to go now.” Bel led the way around the edge of the large room until they reached two Christmas trees disguising an opening. “Move in between the trees, and just listen,” Bel whispered as if anyone else could hear her voice.

Raven searched her sister’s hazy eyes for a moment and then quietly slipped between the branches of the trees and stopped when she heard a heated conversation happening down the corridor.

"What do you mean? How long have you presumed that you were the better heir to my father's legacy?"

That was Brit’s voice and he sounded angry. Raven peeked through the trees in time to see John throw back his head and laugh raucously.

"How long?" John asked shaking his head. "Since the day you were born, Father stopped looking at me as his son. Stopped looking at me at all. It was all you and your black curls and angelic smile. The earldom had been promised to me! For eight years, Father had treated me like an equal. Trained me in estate management, taught me how to negotiate, how to be a good financial steward. He was grooming me to step into his role, but you stole it all just by being born!" John spat the words in Brit’s face.

Brit glared back at him eye to eye, silence falling, heavy with implication. Then, almost as if pushed, Brit stumbled back two steps, his voice like ice. “What did you do, John?”

John glanced at his pocket watch and looked up with an evil grin. “It doesn't matter now. Your time is almost up, and you failed to marry. It's over Brit. You can go back to being a humble English teacher while I keep the mantle I was born to wear. I’ve won the title and the girl.”

Raven’s hands clenched into fists and her muscles tensed, but before she could come out of hiding, a soft voice whispered, “Wait.”

His face set like stone, Brit leaned forward. “You're right, John. It is too late. I have no power to seek vengeance, so tell me the truth. You owe me that, at least.”

“Fine. If it will help you sleep at night.” John rolled his eyes to the ceiling. “You were a toddler and Father bade me watch you while he met with the town magistrate. We were sitting on the fountain in the square when I saw my opportunity. An old woman begged me for money. I gave her a coin and watched her hobble back to a painted wagon train. The idea hit me like lightning—the answer to all my prayers. I followed her and offered to pay her an exorbitant amount if she would meet me at the estate later than night and take you with them when they left town.” John’s eyes narrowed on Brit, and he said low, “I didn’t much care what they did with you, as long as you never came back.”

Even though Raven had suspected foul play had led to Brit’s disappearance, she’d never expected that John had been involved. His diabolical plot stole the breath from her lungs.

Brit seemed to feel similarly as he gasped, “But you were only twelve years old at the time. How could you come up with something so…” he trailed off. “They could have killed me!”

“I told you, I didn’t much care,” John said blandly.

“John, that’s enough,” George warned his brother with a hand on his arm.

John chuckled. “It doesn’t matter, George. We’re in the clear. Brit is poor and powerless, and he can’t prove a thing.”

Raven couldn’t take another moment and pushed out of her hiding place. “Perhaps with my testimony, he can.”

All three men spun to face her.

“Raven…” John sputtered.

“I heard it all, John.” She stalked forward. “That you had Brit kidnapped when he was a child! How could you? I knew you were cold, but this…this is evil!” Gripping her engagement ring, she jerked it off her finger and threw it with all her strength. The metal clattered at John’s feet. “Consider our betrothal broken!”

John went pale and stared down at the glint of gold and gems on the floor before stooping to pick up the ring. He closed it in his fist and rose to his full height, his words measured, “Do you really think the magistrate will listen to the word of a former street thief and my disgraced castoff?”

“I spurned you, not the other way around,” Raven said evenly.

John smirked. “Who would believe you , a base-born girl parading around as a doctor, would reject me, an esteemed peer of the realm? It’s preposterous.”

Without a word, Brit took three purposeful strides toward his brother, hauled back his arm, and punched John square in the nose.

John stumbled back, gripping his face as blood poured between his fingers.

Without hesitation, Brit followed and pummeled John in the stomach with one fist and then the other, making John groan and double over.

Raven, surprised by her own ruthlessness, thrilled at her ex-fiancé’s comeuppance. The man deserved far more than fisticuffs, truth be told, but legal action would come later.

Brit leaned down and growled in John’s ear. “Do not dare speak to her like that…” Brit reared back and hit his brother so hard on the chin that John fell like an axed tree, eyes rolling up in his head. “…ever again.” Brit finished. Then he whirled on George, who made a squeak of fright before running down the hall and out a back door.

“Brit,” Raven whispered and moved toward him. Brit’s jaw flexed as his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. She wanted to comfort him but did not think he would welcome it at that moment.

“Good on you, mate,” Archie said cheerfully. “Wish I could’ve knocked out that blasted git myself.”

Belinda appeared at Raven’s side and put her arm around her shoulders. Raven was either in shock or her sister’s touch felt less corporal than normal because Raven could see Bel’s arm upon her but did not feel it.

Brit turned toward Raven, and when their eyes met his shoulders slumped, and she ran into his arms. “Brit, I’m so sorry. I hate what John has done and all he’s taken from you. But I need you to know…” She leaned back to meet his eyes, her voice rough with emotion. “That I love you with all my heart, and I don’t care a whit if you’re an earl or a teacher or even a street thief. I want to be by your side always.”

He searched her face. “Raven, I have nothing to give you. No way to provide the lifestyle you’re accustomed to.”

Archie cleared his throat behind them. “That might not be the case, old chap.”

Brit arched an eyebrow at his old friend. “Out with it then.”

“Archie and I.” Bel stepped to Archie’s side, and they linked hands, somehow appearing brighter and more vivid together. “With the help of a…er…friend, we have arranged a special marriage license that can be used tonight only.”

Brit gently grasped Raven’s upper arms and steered her toward him, his dark eyes flashing in the dim corridor. “I have no right to ask it of you, but if you meant what you said, I would be honored—”

“Yes, yes, yes! Of course, I’ll marry you!” she exclaimed and threw her arms around his neck.

Brit hugged her so tight that he lifted her feet off the floor. “I love you, Raven Cratchit. I feel like I’ve waited my entire life to say that,” he whispered in her ear. “So, if it’s all right with you, I’m going to tell you every single day for the rest of our lives.”