Lady Pamela's Christmas Star

Chapter 1

For Hearts of truest mettle Absence doth join,

and Time doth settle.

8 December 1816

Belgrave Square

London, England

The line from an anonymous poem in Francis Davison's Poetical Rhapsody became a mantra for Lady Pamela Desmond during the years she waited for her one true love to return from the long, bloody war with Napoleon. The fact that her true love didn't know he was in love with her didn't signify in the least. Or, he hadn't known until earlier in the year when he finally returned from the war in time to save her from a kidnapping and forced marriage.

Of course, he hadn't really saved her from her unwanted suitor. She’d already done that herself. Captain Paul Francom only provided a ride to Gretna Green; a mere half mile from where he found her pummeling her obstinate false bridegroom.

It’d been one of Pam's most humiliating moments in her eighteen years of life. Which, considering the father she had been born to, was quite a feat. Yet it wasn't the fact that the man she loved for four years found her bedraggled and quite literally beating a two-and fifty-year-old man nearly to death that had been the worst embarrassment of her life. No. It was that as soon as she saw him riding up to the site of the carriage accident – one she had deliberately caused – she flung herself into his arms and proclaimed her undying love for him.

Ten months later, she still had a hard time thinking about that day. They were supposed to get married and didn't because Paul didn't know they were getting married and had refused to go through with the wedding, in front of the entire town of Gretna Green. 

"Pam," her stepmother called from the open door of her bedroom, "we have guest. The Duchess of Belfort, Katie, is here and asked to speak to you."

Pam cringed inwardly. She'd curse if her stepmother wasn't standing there, watching her intently, waiting for a response. The fat was in the fire, as the saying went. Pam was the one to ask to speak to the duchess and couldn't very well refuse to see her now that Katie had come at her request.

"I'll be right down, Mother," she replied and held her breath as her stepmother watched her curiously. Thankfully, she nodded and left.

Pam let her breath out as she slumped in her chair. She glanced at her reflection in the small mirror over her dressing table. The reflection of the blonde, blue-eyed woman looked no different than the one she’d seen staring back at her for years. Yet, inwardly, Pam knew that she was no longer the young girl reflected there. She wasn't sure when she began to change. However, as surely as her body altered and matured, she transformed in other, more profound ways. Ways that were not outwardly noticeable. Nor were they as easy to analyze or understand.

Pam loved her stepmother with her whole heart. Lady Lavinia Cavendish, or Mrs. Cavendish as she preferred, was everything a child could want or hope for in a parent. She married Pam's late father, the first Earl of Merriton, when Pam was only four-years-old. From the first day, Vi treated Pam as her own child, loving and protecting her as only a loving mother could. As any loving parent should. Which was part of the problem. Pam's father had been everything a parent aught not be.

The very thought of her dearly departed father made her quiver. He hadn't been a violent man. On the contrary, he rarely saw either one of them. In fact, during her life she’d only seen him a hand full of times that she could recall. And on those infrequent occasions, he ignored her for the most part.

Shaking her head, she pushed the depressing thoughts away and concentrated on the woman waiting for her in the drawing room. The Duchess of Belfort was her last hope. Which she knew was a bit melodramatic. Yet it was how she felt. An unreasonable, burning desperation to take control of her life. A husband was the first, most logical, step in her quest to take control of her life. And the duchess could make that hope a reality.

Ten minutes later, she walked into the informal drawing room at Allenwood Hall to find her stepmother and the duchess laughing like a couple of twelve-year-old girls. Her four-month old brother, Benjamin Edward Cavendish was the center of both women’s attention. Pam's heart swelled with love for both her brother – stepbrother – and her stepmother. Vi had become Pam's inspiration and her curse. Squelching the unkind thoughts, she forced her attention to the three people in the room.

"You're going to spoil him," Pam chided playfully as she crossed to the two women.

They were a striking pair. Vi with her honey blonde hair – much like her own – and kind, grey eyes. And Katie – the duchess – with her dark, curly red hair and emerald green eyes were the envy of many in the ton. Yet it wasn't their beauty that set them apart from other ladies of polite society, it was their generosity and infectious love of life. Something she used to have. And something Pam wanted desperately to reclaim.

"Come. Join us," her stepmother called without looking up from her new son. At three and thirty, Vi hadn't believed she could have children. Especially after losing all three of the babies she carried while married to Pam's father.

"Thank you, mother," Pam replied and then added to their guest, "Good afternoon, duchess.” She popped a quick curtsy. “How are you doing today?"

"Wonderful," Katie smiled back with a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes. “And none of that, we’re all friends here.”

They were and they were not friends, of a sort. The duchess’s brother-in-law was a close friend of Pam’s new stepfather. Her stepfather served with the Duke of Belfort during the war and was a close friend. Consequently, her stepmother was now an acquaintance of the duke and duchess, and thereby, a kind of friend.

Which was the justification Pam used to involve the duchess in her plan for freedom. Pam sent a message to the duchess, asking that she call on them. She’d also asked that Katie not let Vi know that Pam had asked her to come by for a visit. Apparently, the duchess was willing to keep Pam's secret, yet wasn't opposed to having a little sport with the ruse, at Pam's expense. Something Pam was fine with. So long as the duchess was willing to help her in the end.

"I only had a chance to visit with your mother a few times before little Benny here was born. So I took a chance and decided to drop by for tea today," Katie finished.

"Oh, you're always welcome, duchess. Katie. I'm just sorry Jeremey isn't here to greet you," Vi said, bouncing Benny on her knee.

Pam almost said, thank God, but caught herself in time. Her stepfather was too perceptive at times. "Is he working?" she asked instead.

Vi nodded. "He's at Mr. Bonner's office. They are editing his next book."

Her stepfather, a seven-foot tall, former soldier was now a writer and published author, of all things, gothic, romantic novels under the pseudonym of Evelyn D. Warton. One of Pam's favorite authors. And that was before she knew who he was, or her stepmother had married him.

She arranged her skirt and settled on the chair across from the two women. "Is this one going to be out on time?"

Vi laughed. "Mr. Bonner is hoping so. At least there isn't a war to distract Jeremey from his writing this time."

Nor a madman bent on revenge, Pam silently added.

"Thank God," Katie said.

Pam quivered. Both men survived the wars, but not without wounds; hidden and external. They were all grateful that the wars were over and that neither man was in the army any longer.

"Is he in London?" Pam asked to ease the sudden tension in the room.

Katie shook her head. "No. He had to check on one of our estates. However, he is expected back within a day or two. He hates being away from Imogene."

Two-and-a-half-year-old Lady Imogene. The duchess's and duke's only child. She was a precocious and mischievous child with her mother's bright red hair and emerald green eyes.

The duchess laughed and shook her head. “It might be the last time I get any peace and quiet. At least for the next seven months."

Vi gazed at her questioningly and then her face lit up as Pam was still trying to decode the duchess’s meaning. "You’re increasing!" her stepmother exclaimed.

Katie's face brightened and her cheeks took on a pink tint. She nodded shyly, saying, "Yes. I'm due in the middle of July."

Pam was startled and concerned. Would the duchess's pregnancy interfere with her plans? She just decided it wouldn't when Vi made a joke that didn't sound like one to Pam.

"Will Gabe bundle you off to the country like he did last time?"

"God, I hope not," Katie replied and glanced over at Pam.

There was a question there. One Pam was not willing to answer in front of her stepmother. "Surely he'll allow you to attend our Christmas soirée? It is going to be a combination holiday celebration and a birthday party for me."

Katie cocked her head to the side. "I thought today was your birthday?"

Pam smiled. "It is. I'm nine and ten today."

Vi smiled in a crooked way. "A dowdy spinster. Or so my daughter keeps telling me."

She cringed inwardly even as she smiled back at her stepmother. It wasn't exactly what she'd said to Vi, however, it was how she felt. Fearing that Vi would bring up more of the concerns Pam had voiced about her future, she steered the conversation towards other things. Her brothers Davy and Lane were always a good distraction. So was Rosa and the other children Vi and Jeremey had adopted last summer.

Fortunately, the change of topic worked until her adopted brother Lane came in with her stepbrother Davy in tow. The duchess excused herself and was getting up when Pam offered to walk back to Belfort House with her.

"Pamela, that is a long way to walk," Vi chided, glancing down at the duchess's middle.

"Not at all," Katie said and waved her hand dismissively. "I walk farther than that when we're in the country. It is good for me, and good for the baby."

Vi's too preceptive eyes glanced between her and the duchess. She smiled. "Then enjoy your walk." 

Despite her stepmother's attention being on Lane and Davy, Pam could feel her gaze as she and the duchess took their leave. It made her feel uneasy. Or maybe, it was the secret she was keeping from her stepmother. Something she had never done in the past.

Once on the street, the duchess signaled her driver to follow them before heading north at a fast pace. It took Pam until the end of the block to pull even with her.

"You really do like walking, don't you?" she huffed out.

Katie's smile grew. "My father was in the army and I learned to walk following him. He was always in a hurry to get somewhere. Or so it seemed at the time." She glanced at Pam her nose crinkling. "Now I think it was just the way he was because I do the same thing. 

Regardless of whether or not I'm in a hurry or have some place to be. Gabe likes to say that I was born running."

Pam laughed and the two of them walked on for another half block before Katie broke the silence again. "You asked to speak to me," she glanced at Pam, "and not in front of your mother or others."

Her steps faltered and Pam fell behind. Now that the time had come, she had no idea how to broach the subject she needed to discuss with the duchess.

A few feet ahead of her, Katie stopped and turned back to Pam. Her right eyebrow rose dramatically. "Did I misunderstand your request for a private word with me? At my earliest opportunity."

Struck dumb, she couldn't reply.

The duchess came back and took Pam’s hands in hers. "Pamela. Pam, you can talk to me."

She swallowed and then wet her lips. "I want your help."

"Of course," Katie said immediately.

Pam relaxed for the first time since sending the letter to the duchess. "No questions first? No, what kind of help, before agreeing to help me?"

Katie's smile softened. "No," she said as she shook her head. "Whatever you need help with, I'm more than willing to provide."

Pam let her breath out. She hadn't even been aware that she'd been holding it. Still she hesitated. How did she ask the favor she wanted from a woman – a duchess – that she barely knew?

Taking a deep breath, she blurted it out. "I want your help in finding a husband." She paused to gather courage for the part of her request that was the most important aspect of her plea. "One that will agree to marry me before the end of the year."