O Night Divine A Holiday Collection of Spirited Christmas Tales - Kathryn Le Veque Page 0,193

this new season would play out.

At sixteen years of age, Elena and Clara had another year before their come-out. Grace wasn’t quite ready to think about that, either. The girls had been inseparable since birth, so she couldn’t imagine how they’d adjust to being married off.

As for Arthur…

Grace smiled at the thought of her youngest. Her little soldier who, at thirteen years of age, was already determined to follow in his father’s military footsteps.

Five children. Two adults.

Eight settings.

Tears blurred her eyes as she swallowed over the thickness in her throat. “Please let him be all right,” she whispered. “Please.”

A floorboard creaked behind her, causing her to gather herself. She blinked several times and straightened the slouch in her shoulders. A pair of strong arms folded around her, and a kiss landed gently on her hair.

“Perhaps we should have gone to Derbyshire,” Aldous murmured, his breath warm against her ear. “Spent Christmas with Godfrey.”

Grace sniffed and turned to face her husband. “The pain would be the same anywhere, darling.”

He drew her close, his chest rising and falling. “Yes, it would.”

Grace rested her head against his chest, comforted by the sound of his heart beating solidly beneath his ribs. Her own heart went out to him, for she knew he continually blamed himself for Josiah’s departure. “He’ll come back one day, Aldous,” she said. “I know he will.

He pressed a kiss to her hair. “I’m sure you’re right.”

Grace heard the sadness in his voice and straightened. “Where is everyone?” she asked, determined to steer the conversation onto a more cheerful path.

“Julian and Louisa are in the library, I believe. And the twins are playing Hunt the Thimble with Arthur in the east parlor.”

“Good.” She smiled. “Well, I think I’ll go and get ready for dinner.”

But Aldous held her in place for a moment. “I love you, Grace,” he said. “I really should tell you that more often.”

“The one thing I have never doubted is your love, Aldous.” She touched his face and rose up on her toes to kiss his mouth. “I’m a fortunate woman.”

“A toast.” Aldous lifted his glass and got to his feet. “The weather may be cold, but our hearts are warm. May God bless each and every one of us.”

“Each and every one of us,” Grace repeated, a slight waver in her voice.

Louisa held her glass aloft. “Especially Joe, wherever he is,” she said. “May his heart be happy and his stomach full.”

“Yes, especially Joe.” Aldous regarded the empty chair. “May he find his way home one of these days.”

“Hear, hear,” Julian said, his response echoed quietly around the table as everyone drank.

Suppressing a sigh, Aldous sat and picked up his napkin. Come the New Year, he resolved to once again try to locate his missing son. Or, at least, find out what had become of him. He regarded the bowl of what looked like carrot soup that a footman had just placed before him.

“This looks delicious,” Grace said, her declaration, he knew, meant solely for his ears. Pick up your spoon and eat, Aldous.

“It does indeed,” he replied, and picked up his spoon.

At that moment the door opened and Tindall stepped into the room, a small silver platter balanced on his hand. “Excuse me, Captain.” he said, looking somewhat troubled. “We’ve had a package come to the back door, marked for your attention.”

Aldous frowned and set his spoon down. “Can it not wait, Tindall?”

“If you wish, Captain.” The man held out the platter, upon which rested an envelope and an opener. “But this was attached to it. Being Christmas day and all, I thought it rather odd, and thought you should be advised.”

“Who delivered it?” Grace asked, as Aldous took the envelope.

To Captain Aldous Northcott, Highfield Hall.

“That’s the strange thing, Mrs. Northcott,” Tindall replied. “We don’t know who delivered it. The kitchen maid heard a knock at the servant’s entrance, but when she opened it, the only thing there was the package. No sign of anyone.”

“How odd,” Julian said, setting his spoon down also. “Are you expecting something, Papa?”

“Nothing,” Aldous replied, slicing the envelope open. “Very well, let’s see what this is about.”

He pulled out the letter, unfolded it, and began to read.

I have recently been reminded that Christmas is a time for forgiveness and reconciliation. I have also been led to believe that I might be granted these things this Christmas. I hope so.

I pray so.

Since it is also the season of Goodwill, I offer you this gift. The painting, inspired by a dream, has no