you hate the country,” Merryn said to Joanna. “You and Tess and Lottie—none of you can stand it.”
“Well, this is different,” Joanna said. “It is Christmas and you are newly wed, Merryn darling, and there is much to celebrate.” She looked at them. “You are married, aren’t you?”
“Not yet,” Garrick said.
“Then you had best get your clothes on and get down to the church, nephew,” the Dowager Duchess proclaimed. “At once!”
“Give us an hour,” Garrick murmured, drawing Merryn back under the sheets.
“A half hour,” the Dowager declaimed. “And then I will come back.”
Garrick, ignoring them, rolled Merryn over, and started to kiss her. “Out!” he said briefly, over his shoulder. “If you please, Aunt Elizabeth,” he added punctiliously.
There was a gasp from the Dowager. The room emptied as though by magic.
“I am sorry,” Merryn said, looking up at him. “It seems that when you marry me you marry my family as well.”
“I am content,” Garrick said. He bent his head to kiss he again. “Very content,” he said, as his lips left hers.
“I really did not want my sisters at my wedding,” Merryn said, miserably. “And Lottie as well! They are all so beautiful and stylish—”
“I didn’t notice,” Garrick said. He stripped the crumpled nightgown from her body. “You know I can see no one else when you are by.” His hands started to move over her, with love, with tenderness. “Darling Merryn,” he said, “shall we leave them all here and elope?”
Merryn giggled. “It is very tempting,” she said.
“But poor recompense for the love they have shown us, I suppose,” Garrick said. He raised himself on one elbow. “Will you mind very much being at Fenners for Christmas?” he asked. “I know it may be difficult for you—”
Merryn silenced him with her fingers against his lips.
“It will not be difficult,” she said, “if you are with me.” She pulled him down into her arms. “It is a time for new beginnings,” she said.
EPILOGUE
Christmas Eve
“MR. CHURCHWARD HAS sent us a letter,” Merryn said. It was very late on the night before Christmas and she was sitting before the fire, wrapped in her new husband’s arms. The room was warm and intimate, lit only by the glow of the flames and the one candle that burned on the dresser. Apple logs and pine scented the air.
Garrick was in a state of delightful undress in just his shirt and pantaloons. Merryn was wearing the most delicious little concoction of gauze and lace that Tess had given her as a Christmas present. She had pressed it on Merryn in advance of Christmas Day, whispering that Garrick might enjoy it, too, and indeed its effect on him had already been most gratifying. Merryn felt beautiful and very, very loved. It was lucky, she thought, that Joanna had had the delicacy to give them an entire wing of Fenners to themselves. Although she suspected that the rest of the family might be celebrating Christmas with its promise of love and renewal and hope for the future in much the same way that she and Garrick had.
She unfolded Mr. Churchward’s letter and it rustled a little as she spread it out and started to read.
“He apologizes for disturbing us with business matters at such a time as Christmas,” she said. She paused. “Poor Mr. Churchward—is there a Mrs. Churchward, do you think, to share the festive season with him?”
“If there is I doubt she can be as happy at this moment as I,” Garrick said. He raised a strand of Merryn’s shining hair to his lips and kissed it before he let it slide softly through his fingers. “Must you read that?” he murmured, brushing the hair aside, his lips moving to the soft skin of her neck.
Merryn pushed him gently away. “Listen. He says that Tom Bradshaw has disappeared.” A shiver touched her. She dropped the letter into her lap. “Do you think he will ever come back?”
“I’ll have him arrested for attempted murder if he does,” Garrick said, so ferociously that Merryn felt reassured. She picked up the letter again and started to read. Then she stilled. Garrick felt her sudden immobility and looked up.
“What is it?” he said.
“Mr. Churchward—” Merryn stopped. Her voice was a little rough with emotion. “He says that he has had a letter from Mrs. Alice Scott of Shipham about her niece, Miss Susan Scott.” Her breath caught. “He says that Mrs. Scott wishes to discuss the possibility of us talking together to see if Joanna and Tess and I might meet Susan—” Her voice broke. Her eyes filled with tears. “You wrote to her, didn’t you?” she whispered. She pulled back and stared into Garrick’s dark eyes. They were soft and so full of love that she thought her heart would burst. “Even though they rejected your pleas you wrote again,” she said. “You did not give up.”
Garrick took her hand in his. “It mattered to you very much,” he said gruffly. “I had kept Susan from you so long and I could not forgive myself.” He pressed a kiss against her fingers. “I would have tried again and again,” he said, “so that I could give her back to you. I wanted to make you happy.”
Merryn touched his hair in the most tender of caresses. “It was the nicest thing you could possibly have done,” she said. “The best present you could give me.”
She bent to kiss him, her tears salt against his lips. Garrick drew her down beside him on the rug and kissed her back and then everything became very sweet and pleasurable as the letter was forgotten in the outpouring of love and healing and happiness between them.
Much later, Merryn lay with her head pillowed on Garrick’s bare chest and her fingers entwined with his.
“It is almost midnight,” she whispered. “Almost your birthday, Garrick Charles Christmas Farne.” She felt his chest move as he laughed and turned her head to kiss him. “What can I give you,” she said, “in return for your generosity to me?”
She felt Garrick’s arms tighten about her with a fierce protectiveness. “I have everything I could ever want here in my arms,” he said and Merryn rolled over to look at him, utterly awed by the fierceness of the love she saw in his eyes.
Garrick scooped her up and carried her over to the vast four-poster bed then went across to snuff the candle. He picked up the letter, somewhat crushed and creased by now, smoothed it out and read the final paragraph.
“‘I must also take this opportunity to apologize for an oversight on my part,’” Mr. Churchward had written. “‘I realize that when I sent the Fenners estate papers to Tavistock Square I mistakenly enclosed a copy of Lord Fenner’s will which should have remained confidential in my office. I do hope,’” Mr. Churchward had underlined, “‘that the perusal of this did not cause any difficulties …’”
Garrick paused, a smile starting to curl his lips. He let the letter drift down onto the table. Mr. Churchward, he thought, never made mistakes. He would have known that Merryn would find the reference to the
