A Christmas Courtship Read Free Page A

she was in love, and she was happy again after two long years of hardship. She was so looking forward to this Christmas, for even though she and Antony had to keep their love a secret from families who’d disapprove, they’d still somehow find some time to be alone together.
    How she wished they could come out into the open about their feelings, but it was out of the question. Her father would never consent to a match with the Mortimers, of whom he thoroughly disapproved, and Jonathan had once had a very unfortunate meeting with Antony, when they had taken an instant dislike to each other, all of which made her predicament very awkward indeed. As for Antony, his father was ambitious to acquire a wealthy, titled bride for him, and a lowly Amberley would no longer do at all. And so their love must be kept hidden, and the future left in the lap of the gods; but for the time being they were simply too much in love to consider anything beyond spending every single stolen moment together. She was sure of her heart, sure that love would triumph over adversity, and so she had no misgivings as she hurried to keep the illicit tryst.
    The Saracen’s Head loomed ahead, its weatherbeaten signswaying slightly in the draft of cold air sweeping through the city. Hannah would be waiting in the dining room now, wondering where she was, but the assignation with Antony was more important, and what was more, it too was to take place in the inn, in the private coachhouse his father leased. The Mortimer town house, fine as it was, no longer had any stabling of its own, being a medieval property overlooking the crossroads.
    Gloucester was an important port on the River Severn, and also provided the first bridge over the river, and as a consequence it was a very busy city, especially just before Christmas, when there was so much river trade and so many more people traveling. The Saracen’s Head was the principal inn, a loftly gabled building with a wide archway leading from the street into a galleried courtyard. A constant flow of stagecoaches, mails, post-chaises, private carriages, and lesser vehicles passed to and fro beneath the archway, making the yard a singularly noisy, crowded place.
    Blanche halted on the pavement outside the inn, carefully arranging her hood so that there was no possibility at all of anyone seeing her face. It wasn’t very likely that anyone would give her cloaked figure a second glance in such a busy place, but it still wouldn’t have done for Blanche Amberley to be witnessed hurrying furtively through into the stableyard at the rear of the inn.
    She looked cautiously through the archway, in case Jake had already arrived with the pony and trap, but there was no sign of him. There were two stagecoaches on the point of departure, fully laden with Christmas luggage and travelers. Their teams stamped impatiently, jingling their harness, the horses’ breath silvery in the fast-fading light. The passengers were seated reluctantly after the warmth of the inn. Those unfortunate enough to have only secured outside places were very well wrapped against the cold. Several faces bore the telltale glow of mulled ale or wine, and the men carried flasks containing the wherewithal to maintain that glow during the icy miles ahead. Then the ticket office bell rang out for the last time, summoning any final passengers who might be lingering in the hostelry. The smell of hot mince pies drifted in the enclosed air, for the Saracen’s Headhad been serving them for the past week now, and would continue to do so until Twelfth Night, as had become the tradition at the inn.
    No one paid any attention to Blanche as she slipped around the edge of the yard, moving swiftly past the pools of light thrown down by the lamps suspended beneath the lowermost part of the gallery. A groom was leading two horses through from the stableyard, and she drew quickly back, pressing into the shadows until he’d passed. Then she left the bustle of the yard to