O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,146

tales of family honor, ancestry, and roots.

For Anna, novels are an escape into another world and time where she loses herself in the characters’ lives, confident they will triumph in the end and find love. She loves ferreting out bits of historical trivia in order to provide the reader with an authentic experience.

Escape with Anna to where romance began and get intimate with history.

A Gift for Agatha

A Scrooge’s Tale

Anna St. Claire

Chapter One

December 1816

Kent, England

The late afternoon storm sent wet December weather slamming into the house. Gusts of wind howled, forcing unsecured shutters to crash against the side of the house. Lady Agatha Wendt pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders and adjusted her glasses as she leaned in to read the newspaper. A long-haired grey cat with white feet and a white tip on her tail sat next to her, tucked into her skirts.

Suddenly, she slapped her leg in a fit of pique, sending the cat leaping into the air hissing. “This beats all! The chit found someone willing to marry her and never bothered to send me an invitation! How rude. Figures, considering the mother she had. A lack of manners. I tried to tell my departed brother he had made a mistake,” she ranted out loud. The woman pushed her spectacles higher onto the bridge of her nose and peered closer. “Looks like she married an earl.” She strained to read. “Lady Charlotte Chrisham became the Countess of Clarendon when she married the fifth Earl of Clarendon.” She threw the paper down on the chair next to her. “Ungrateful little chit!” she declared, grabbing the brass bell sitting on the table beside her chair and ringing it.

“Yes, my lady.” A tall, blond man with slightly graying temples and warm, brown eyes answered her demand.

“Bentley. The fire needs to be stoked, and I need some hot tea. Can you see to it for me?” She snapped up the paper and pointed at it with a long-nailed finger. “Do you recall my niece?” she huffed.

“I think I recall her. Lady Charlotte Grisham. She visited last year with your brother’s family. I found her to be a lovely young woman.”

“Pish!” she sniffed. “A brat! She spent most of the time here, curled up on the settee with a book like she owned the place. So did my sister-in-law, for that matter.”

The man sighed. “Yes, my lady.” He walked to the fireplace and picked up the poker, moving the logs around on the fire until it built to a roar. “There, that already feels better. It should be warmer in here.”

“You could have ordered a footman to do that. It is not your job, you know,” she chided gently.

“I never mind doing these little things,” he responded.

“Hmm. Yes, well. Thank you,” she murmured, before once more jerking the paper up to the offending page. “You do not know my niece as I do. No matter. She is married now. Snared herself an earl. Most likely she set her cap for him, same as her mother did to my brother.”

He cleared his throat. “I should check on your tea, my lady.” The retainer bowed and started to leave the room.

“Bentley…”

He turned back. “Yes, my lady?”

“Could you ask them to bring Pretty a bowl of milk, as well?

“I will do that, my lady.” He bowed and left the room.

“He does not know those women as I do,” she grunted and threw the newspaper at the closed door. “Of all the snubs! I cannot believe I had to find out about her marriage in the paper. I had been ever kind to my brother and his family. Why, I fed them and gave them a place to stay without complaint when they came last Advent. Showing up as they did, it was lucky I am such a charitable soul.” She grew silent as she thought about her niece. “Gel takes after her mother. She was a peculiar one, as well.” She fought back the feeling of guilt that threatened. The family had suffered a terrible loss right after that Christmas when her brother had died.

Her brother had been very successful with his investments, yet she was sure she had heard that Lady Charlotte Romney’s guardian was overseeing their finances and was not very generous. “Serves her mother right,” she admonished, disparaging her sister-in-law to no one in particular.

The door opened, and a young woman walked in with a silver tray. “Your tea, my lady.”

“You are new. I have never seen you before,” Agatha pulled down