Chapter 17 THE CHRISTMAS BALL AND WINTER BLOSSOMS
Chapter 17
T HE C HRISTMAS B ALL AND W INTER B LOSSOMS
Winchester, England
December 22, 1880
The Christmas Ball was an elaborate affair, created to raise money for the Hospital of Saint John the Baptist but most certainly more so to groom the young men and women of high society Winchester toward grand couplings that would perpetuate strong lineages established by their forefathers. At least, that was how Miles saw it.
All he could think of was Lillian, and yet here he was, listening to his father woo the Thornhill family in the center of the hall on the top floor of the main building. The musical ensemble played a slow Christmas ballad between dances, a rather sad melody indeed. It perfectly punctuated the feeling Miles had as he listened to his father speak.
“It’s raucous right now in London,” James said, enunciating with such volume that surely even the man holding the trumpet on the other side of the hall could hear him. “I dare say I’d be fine not returning after the summer, had I not my duty.” He was referring to his position in the House of Lords, the one Miles was supposed to inherit upon his father’s death. “The streets are by far the worst I’ve seen in my lifetime. You can barely take a breath without retching. The city simply can’t handle this influx of people, especially those of meager means.”
That could be me before too long, Miles thought. And nothing his father said could extinguish his love for London and the possibilities it harbored within the city’s borders.
“Oh, I do agree,” Lord Thornhill said. “I remember a day when the Thames ran as clear and clean as the Itchen, but now it’s a sewage pit.”
“I’ll resist the urge to point the finger at your railroad,” James said. “I must say I’m enjoying the ease of travel these days.”
“Well,” Lord Thornhill said, “it’s not mine anyway. I simply climbed aboard to enjoy the financial fruits.”
The men snickered at one another, as did Miles’s mother and brother and also Lord Thornhill’s wife and daughter, Etta. James had been urging Miles to court Etta Thornhill for years. She was a striking young lady, and Miles had come to know her well through such events. They had a mild friendship, but he’d not once felt more strongly than that. Of course, his father would say such feelings were irrelevant.
“You choose your wife with your brains, not your root,” he’d say, then follow it with, “Lord Thornhill made a second fortune in the railroads, but he comes from a long line of good blood that would be a fine blending with ours. You understand me?”
Miles would nod because any other response might draw a strike from his father’s vicious right hand.
Now that he’d met Lillian, though, he’d decided that no amount of persuasion, be it physical or monetary—or any such threat his father might devise—could sway him from following his heart. He’d not seen Lillian since the night he’d been caught, though an hour had not passed without her on his mind. He could still hear her velvety voice and warm laugh. So he wouldn’t forget her face, he would close his eyes and imagine each feature—the round cheeks, the bright eyes. He’d gotten out of school for Christmas only the day before, so he’d not had a chance to find her. Not until tonight.
When a lull came in the conversation between his father and Lord Thornhill, Miles seized the opportunity to excuse himself. He’d seen his grandmother near the giant Christmas tree. She stood alone and looked like she needed company.
Eleanor Stewart—a woman Miles respected more than any other person on earth—was mother to Miles’s mother. She’d lost her husband to typhoid and now lived alone in her manor in Twyford off the road to Southampton. Miles’s parents had tried to convince her to move in with them at Elmhurst, but she’d declined. It was no secret that her reasoning had to do with Miles’s father. She’d never liked him and would certainly never live in the same house as him. Needless to say, Miles loved that about her. He loved a lot about his grandmother, who had always encouraged him to be himself. Only one other person in his life had done that: Lillian.
Eleanor smiled as her grandson approached. “Ah, you look sharp in your new suit, young man.”
“Thank you, Granny. And you’re exquisite as always.” She was seventy-six and had fought off two illnesses to make it that far. Though she was a little slower than she used to be, she possessed a youthful vigor and was determined to make it to eighty. Miles thought that if anyone could, it would be her.
“How does it feel to be one step closer to graduation?” she asked.
“It’s as if freedom is within my grasp.”
She nodded knowingly. He’d spent many a night at her house during his breaks between terms, and he’d come to know her well. His favorite thing about her was that he could say just about anything, and she’d not judge him. Theirs was a relationship of authenticity and honesty.
“You know, you will like Oxford, my dear boy. Your life will be very different.”
“I can’t imagine, quite honestly. Is there somewhere in this world where I can break free of the leash of my father?”
She dipped her chin. “Oh, I assure you there is.”
Miles nodded as he looked beyond the band to James, still standing there with the Thornhills. “I have feelings for someone,” Miles blurted out. And it was the most exhilarating moment he’d had since coming upon Lillian on that October night a few months ago.
“Is that right?” His grandmother looked keenly interested. “The Thornhill girl?”
“Etta? No.” Miles resisted for only a moment, long enough for him to remind himself that he was safe to say whatever he wanted around his granny. “It’s a girl who will not please my father.”
Eleanor took on a sinister look. “Then I like her all the more. Who is she? Do I know her or her family?”
“She’s not of our class,” he admitted. “She’s the daughter of an innkeeper.”
Her eyes grew wide. “Oh, I see.” Miles was pleased to see no judgment, only surprise. She looked at him differently now. “Is that love twinkling in your eyes?”
Miles felt his face redden. “I do think so, Granny. I’ve never felt this way before.”
Eleanor smiled. “That makes me happy. But what a challenge you’ve stepped into.”
“Yes, indeed.”
She seemed to consider his predicament. “I’d like to meet her one day. You should bring her to visit.”
What a bump to have someone on his side. “Yes, of course. I’d love that. And thank you. Thank you for understanding.”
She blinked. “Do you remember how your grandfather and I met?”
“I don’t believe so.”
“We were destined to be together. The only argument we ever had was your mother marrying your father. I’m sorry to say that, but it’s true. For some reason, Franklin was quite sure it was the right fit. He always tried to find the best in people, to a fault at times. Yes, your father was charming. But I could see the evil in him. Almost as if it was caged and waiting to get out. However, that is not my point. What I want you to know is that I was sure from the very day I met Franklin that I’d been born for him, and he for me. When you know that you’ve found true love, it would be a crime not to realize it. Don’t you think?”
If only the rest of his family were as supportive as his granny. “Of course.”
They spoke until the dancers were called over, and Miles found himself waltzing with Etta Thornhill. Though he had no intention of marrying her, he wouldn’t dare avoid their moment on the dance floor. All he had to do was make it a few more months, and then he could do whatever he liked. The couple barely spoke as she giggled shyly.
After breaking away from the dance floor, hoping anyone seeing him disappear out the side door would think he sought a lavatory, he dashed down the stairs and out into the street. He’d not taken his coat, as it may have aroused suspicion, so it was a chilly walk up High Street to the Smythun under the light of a waning moon. Not that it bothered him too much. Inside, he was melting.
Carriages and single riders passed by, kicking up dust due to the lack of rain lately. A man holding a Bible and a bottle preached to a small group standing around him. Someone whisked by on a bicycle. A woman who looked suspiciously like a prostitute seemed to have strayed far from Cannon Street.
Then he was there, standing outside the pub, hoping with all of him that she would be there tonight. He looked through the polished glass of the pub and saw happy patrons eating their dinners in the amber light of the gas lanterns on the walls. His stomach dropped as he pushed open the door to hear a bell ring above him. No one turned, though. All were welcome here, or that’s how it had always felt.
He saw the back of her first, in her dress that was so less fancy than the one adorning Etta. Yet even from his current vantage point, even though she was in the midst of scrubbing a table clean, she was more striking than any girl at the ball.
Stepping inside, he wound his way to her position and cleared his throat. “Lillian.”
She froze, and he wondered if she’d been waiting for him, worrying over his return. It had been two months since they’d last seen each other.
She dropped the rag in the bucket and turned to him. “Ah, you’re still alive.” Her smile nearly made him fall to his knees. What torture it would be to say goodbye to her again.
“Barely,” he said, removing his hat. “I’m so sorry I didn’t come back to see you. I was caught sneaking back in.”
“No.” She pretended to be afraid for him but couldn’t smother a grin.
“I was ...,” he said, mirroring her. “It was no laughing matter either. I was caned in front of my mates. I’m just getting over the bruises.”
Lillian showed a look of concern. “Oh, I’m sorry.”
“I’d do it again a hundred times ... to see you.”
His bluntness forced her to turn away. “I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean to be so ...” She turned back. “It’s nice to see you. I wondered ...”
Having reached a pause, they looked at one another. He bathed in her beauty and felt, all in the span of a few seconds, like he’d found his life’s purpose. He couldn’t hear the noise of the bar. All he could hear was his heart, beating for her.
He lowered his voice to a whisper. “I’ve snuck out once again. I’m attending the Christmas Ball at Saint John and popped out to see you. I only left school yesterday, and I’m headed back home tomorrow. Do you have a few minutes to take a walk?”
She looked around and shook her head. “No. I don’t, I’m afraid. It’s busy tonight.”
Miles nodded in defeat.
“But I’d like to see you again too,” she said, lighting the fire of his resolve.
“How can we make that happen?”
“When are you back in town?”
Her encouragement was all he needed. “My father is leaving for the city in two days’ time. I can ride into town then.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to get punished again.”
“Quite sure. Do I find you here?”
“Always.”
A smile stretched across his face. He didn’t dare even attempt to hide it. “I’ll see you then.”
It didn’t take much to sneak away from his house for the day. When Lord James Pemberton went to the city, Cora would often stay in her room for hours at a time. How she passed her time up there he did not know, though he guessed that much of it was spent sleeping. Miles’s brother, Edward, had gone to see his friend in Sparsholt, and so the house was quiet. He’d asked the coachman to have his horse saddled, that he was off for a ride, and it was as simple as that.
At a strong gallop, it took him under an hour to reach Winchester. As the city came into view from the South Downs, he found his heart fluttering again. He was finally free to see her, to actually have a conversation during the day. As long as he was not recognized by someone who knew his family, he’d be fine.
He left his horse at a stall on High Street and first stopped at a jewelry store that he’d spotted when his family had come into town for the Christmas Ball. The kind gentleman standing behind a counter of dazzling necklaces welcomed him.
“Hello, sir, I’m looking for something for a girl.”
The jeweler inclined an eyebrow. “A girl. How special of a girl?”
“The most special.”
“Ah, I see.”
Once he’d found a gift that pleased him, Miles walked up to the Smythun full of renewed hope. It was empty, aside from one man breaking his fast by the window.
“Hello?” Miles called out while removing his hat.
Lillian came out from the back. She was dressed much differently than he’d last seen her. A white dress with her hair in a bun.
“You make me smile every time I see you,” he said.
“You’re easy to please,” she replied.
“If only that were the case.”
She raised a finger. “Let me tell my father I’ll be leaving. He’s upstairs.”
“May I meet him?” Miles said quickly, an idea that became terrifying only after he’d suggested it.
She stopped with a puzzled look on her face. “You want to meet him?”
“Of course I do,” he said. “If I’m to court his daughter.”
She smiled at his brazen advance. “Suit yourself.”
A moment later, he heard footfalls coming down the stairs. Lillian appeared with her father, a chubby man with round cheeks and a thick mustache. “Miles Pemberton,” he said, thrusting out his hand.
“Yes, sir,” Miles said, the sound of his own last name giving him pause. He’d not considered that their fathers might know each other.
“I’m Tom Turner. Welcome to our pub.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“We’re going for a walk, Father,” Lillian said, “and I thought we might go by to see Arthur and Sadie.”
“Ah, yes, of course.” Miles knew that Arthur was Lillian’s brother. Tom nodded for a moment, taking Miles in. “I don’t need to tell you what kind of trouble the two of you might cause. And I think you know what I mean. I know of your father, and I’m quite sure he would not be keen on you visiting my daughter.”
Miles simply nodded.
“But I am not a man who stands in the way of two people who are developing feelings for one another. What is life without love? All that I can say is that you should be careful.” He looked over to Lillian. “That goes for the both of you.”
“Sir,” Miles said.
They left her father and the pub.
“Where shall we go?” Miles asked out on the street.
Lillian walked a safe distance from him. “I have a place.”
As they left High Street, he said, “Your father is a kind man.”
“Yes, he is. And he must like you too.”
“I’ll do my best to live up to that honor.”
They broke free of town and came to walk along the river. The trees were naked of leaves, and only a few birds had not flown south for winter. Their escape into the woods soothed Miles’s worry of being discovered, and it also sent his mind to wonder if he might have a chance to kiss her.
He thought it rather rebellious and even courageous that Lillian was fine being alone with him. Any woman at that Christmas Ball wouldn’t have dared stroll the city streets without a chaperone, let alone disappear into nature.
Miles slowed. “I’d like to give you something, Lillian.”
She stopped with a smile that was the true gift. “You would?”
He drew from a pocket the hair brooch that he’d purchased from the jeweler. It was in the shape of a sunflower; a shiny emerald rested in the center.
As he handed it to her, she lost her breath. “You can’t give that to me.”
“Why not?”
“Why not? Because it’s ... it’s too expensive.”
“There was nothing worthy of you in the entire store. But I hoped that this might do.”
She looked like she might cry. “Are you sure?”
“Of course I’m sure.”
Lillian took the brooch from him and admired it, glazing her fingers over the design. She gathered her hair in her hands and pinned it down with her brooch. “How does it look?”
Miles took her in, her stunning figure, her dazzling eyes, her thick wavy hair, and the brooch. Never had he seen a woman more captivating.
“Like it was meant for you,” he finally said.
“Thank you, Miles. You certainly flatter me.”
“This is more than flattery.”
They began to walk again. Miles placed his hands behind his back and looked over to her. “Are you sure you’re not cold?”
She shook her head. “I’m quite fine,” she said. “I come out here all the time.”
“By yourself?”
“Yes, why not?”
“Oh, I don’t know. I’m not accustomed to ladies with such freedom.”
She chuckled. “You’re in a different world with me. I can’t dance but I have my own things.”
“No doubt,” Miles responded. “Wait, you can’t dance?”
“Not as you do.”
“What is it that you do outside of working then?”
“I very much like exploring the wilderness, taking these walks, breathing the clean air. I can’t wait for the spring, for the trees to come alive, the flowers to bloom. The birds to return.”
There was her lovely voice again, teasing him into a dream. “You sound like a poet.”
She shook her head. “No, just a happy girl when I’m out here. How about you?” she asked. “What blows your kilt up?”
Miles smiled. “You do.”
“Quite forward, aren’t you?”
“My time always seems so limited with you. I don’t want to waste a moment.”
She stopped. “Then why haven’t you kissed me?”
Miles couldn’t believe she’d said it and felt like he’d been struck in the chest. In the best way possible. “I ... well ... I didn’t want ...”
“But our time is limited, is it not?”
Miles licked his lips and stepped toward her. “I hope not.” He leaned his face close and touched his lips to hers in what felt like finding the answer to every question he’d ever had. She placed a hand on his chest and then pulled at his shirt, kissing him harder.
As they broke away, he regarded her beautiful face and the slightly curled lips that he’d kissed. This was the woman he would spend the rest of his life with, no matter the odds. “I like you, Lillian Turner.”
“And I like you, Miles Pemberton. Yet we have so many obstacles between us, don’t we?”
“Nothing that will stop us,” he said almost too seriously.
She nearly laughed out loud. “What would you expect between us then?”
“Well, marriage, of course. Children. A life together.”
“Don’t you think you’re getting ahead of yourself?” She asked the question in a playful way, as if his bold statement hadn’t scared her in the slightest.
“No. I don’t believe so at all.”
She held his gaze, grinning as if she couldn’t agree more.
They walked farther into the moors, and he fell deeper into her spell with each step. Stopping in a spot by the river, they lay in the grass and came to know one another, pausing on occasion to share another kiss.
He thought it remarkable that she spoke so much of her family, telling him of how her parents had fallen in love as teenagers and how they still danced together, and speaking so fondly of her brother and his new bride, who was expecting their first child.
In turn, Lillian asked him about his family, and he was honest with her, talking about his father’s anger and abusive tendencies, his mother’s submissive behavior and feeble demeanor, and his clueless brother’s desperate desire to conform.
“I envy what you have,” Miles said, lying on his side, facing her.
She touched her chest. “And my heart hurts knowing what you’ve told me about your family.”
He stroked her cheek. “I suppose I’ve been given a glimpse of what to avoid in creating one of my own.”
“And that is perhaps what I adore most about you, Miles. From the moment that I met you, I could see that you are so kind and caring and wise—far more than other boys your age.” She took his hand. “Now that I know your story, I can see that it’s the challenges in your life that have made you such an extraordinary person.”
Her words were as comforting as the warmth of her skin against his. “You leave me speechless,” he finally said. “Thank you.”
Eventually they stood and walked hand in hand to another spot, and then another. He wanted to know everything about her, and at the same time he felt a desperate need to share his own hopes and fears and dreams. Hours passed in a breath.
Returning to the city, they knocked on the door of a row house with the number 7 etched into a metal plaque and were welcomed by Arthur and Sadie, who were anything but intimidating. In fact, the warmth of her family made Lillian all the more intoxicating.
Arthur wore simple clothing and a mustache that nearly connected with his long bushy sideburns. A bump protruded from Sadie’s faded purple dress. Lillian had told him she was two months away from becoming an aunt.
Sadie’s jaw fell open when she noticed the brooch. “Where did you get that?”
Lillian beamed. “Miles gave it to me.”
Jaw still lowered, Sadie turned to Miles. “My heavens, Miles. You must like her.”
“No doubt about that.”
Arthur disappeared into the kitchen, and Sadie invited Lillian and Miles to join her by the fire. In this small home that was warm and comfortable, they sipped their tea, munched on biscuits, and got to know one another. Her older brother, Arthur, was clearly Lillian’s protector. When talk of the baby came, Lillian rose from her seat and knelt next to Sadie.
“May I?” Then she pressed her hand to the woman’s belly. The look of delight that rose to her face warmed the air. “Ah, he’s kicking.”
“Yes, he is, isn’t he?” Sadie agreed.
Lillian pressed her ear to Sadie’s belly and listened for a while as she giggled. “I can’t wait to be your auntie. I’ll be the best of any in the world.”
Miles knew that she would be the best mum in the world, too, and he was desperate to leap forward to a life that they could share together. Forget Oxford. He could not leave her that long. Besides, it would get him no closer to gracing a stage in London.
“And you two,” Sadie said, as though she’d read Miles’s mind. “Is there a future between you?”
“So bold,” Lillian said, pulling her head from Sadie’s belly.
“Well, you do make a lovely couple.”
“Yes, I think we do,” Miles said, dropping another cube of sugar in his tea.
Arthur took his chance to be big brother, clearly the spit of his father. “How do you propose to make your lives together? She’ll live with you at Elmhurst? You’ll make a lady out of her?”
“I’m sad to say my father will not likely approve of our relationship. I will need to find another way to make a living.”
“How so? What trades do you know?”
Miles didn’t dare mention his dream of acting. “I will have to learn, but I am certainly capable of finding a way to take care of my family. The fact that I’m a Wykehamist will only help.”
Arthur conceded that truth with a nod. “These are bold plans for two people who barely know each other.”
“It feels like we’ve known each other a long time, though.”
Lillian touched his back. “Yes, it does.”
“Just be careful,” Arthur said.
“Your father told me the same thing.”
“Yes, I suppose he would. It’s good advice to follow.”
“Indeed.” He wasn’t sure how to be careful, though. His father would never approve. They’d live at a stalemate. But Miles had no choice. There was no turning back from the way he felt about Lillian Turner or his desire to carve out his own path. There would be no compromises.