A Christmas Brothel: A Set of Canterbury Christmas Tales Read online

  A Christmas Brothel

  A Set of Canterbury Christmas Tales

  Annabelle Anders, Ava Stone,

  Amanda Mariel, Jane Charles,

  Susan Gee Heino, Dawn Brower,

  Elizabeth Essex, Aileen Fish,

  Tammy Andersen, K.C. Bateman,

  Deb Marlowe, Virginia Heath,

  Nadine Millard, Katherine Bone,

  Alanna Lucas, Kate Pearce,

  Rose Gordon, & Sandy Raven

  Dedications

  From SANDY RAVEN…

  I always take any offer to reach new-to-me readers when my friends present them. Especially when they support worthwhile causes and originate in such a fun and endearing way.

  Many thanks to Ava Stone and Jane Charles for asking me if I wanted to take part in this fund raiser for Toys for Tots. It was an honor, and I had SO MUCH FUN!

  Here’s to many more fun projects!

  From VIRGINIA HEATH…

  For Gayle Cochrane

  Who really loves a Christmas story

  From DEB MARLOWE…

  For Nancy Feldman, my favorite tart and the seamstress who leaves us all in awe of her amazing creations!

  Contents

  Prologue

  Annabelle Anders

  The Christmas Quarrel

  Ava Stone

  The Yule Cat

  Amanda Mariel

  Miracle on Castle Street

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Jane Charles

  A Christmas Bauble from La Befana

  Susan Gee Heino

  The Heartbreaker’s Tale

  Dawn Brower

  A Christmas Kiss

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Elizabeth Essex

  The Ship Captain’s Tale

  Aileen Fish

  Gifts of Love

  Tammy Andresen

  How to Reform a Rake

  K.C. Bateman

  The Snow Maiden

  Deb Marlowe

  The First Taffy Maker to the King

  Virginia Heath

  Blame it on the Mistletoe

  Nadine Millard

  The Christmas Runaway

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Epilogue

  Alanna Lucas

  A Family for Christmas

  Katherine Bone

  The Pirate’s Yuletide Haven

  Kate Pearce

  A Winter’s Tale

  Rose Gordon

  We’ll Have Ourselves a Merry Little Christmas

  Sandy Raven

  He Came Upon a Midnight Clear

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Epilogue

  About the Authors

  Prologue

  December 24, 1814

  Klaus Haus

  Canterbury, Kent

  Christmas Eve had come to Canterbury, and with it a snow storm the likes of which Elke Klaus had never seen in all her years. She peered out an icy window of her brothel and shivered at the thought of anyone stuck outside this particular Christmas Eve.

  The town was already filled to the brim with holiday visitors. There would be no where else in all of Canterbury for any wayward travelers who’d braved the weather. Unless, of course, she opened her doors this Christmas Eve…

  The Christmas Quarrel

  Annabelle Anders

  “Frau Klaus?” Clarise would pretend for now that the woman was not a madam, but that she was an inn keeper, although she resembled no inn keeper Clarise had ever seen. “Do you have any rooms?” Standing on the front step, Clarise sniffed and wiped at her eyes. She shouldn’t have traveled today, but she’d been unable, nay, unwilling to spend another day in the same house as that… that… fiend!

  “They aren’t fancy.” The striking woman flicked her gaze knowingly over Clarise’s expensive gown and coat. “But you look as though you need a place to rest.”

  The wind whipped up, but she was too cold to shiver.

  Clarise dabbed at her runny nose. It had grown sore from crying, and sniffling and too much wiping away of the disgusting discharge that came along with this dratted cold. “I do, I mean, thank you, Frau, if it isn’t too much inconvenience.”

  Striking eyebrows rose nearly to the bottom of the green turban wrapped around the woman’s head. “Inconvenience or no, I’ll not turn away a lady, or a gent for that matter, in weather such as this, and definitely not on Christmas Eve.” She held the door wide, indicating for Clarise and her maid, Bess, to enter. Their driver had already pulled the carriage around to a stable area.

  The icy wind disappeared as the heavy door closed behind them.

  “I’d forgotten.” Clarise lifted her small valise with a grimace.

  The Madam laughed. “You forgot it was Christmas Eve? That must have been some quarrel.”

  “Why would you say that?” Clarise rubbed at her nose. Already this handkerchief was wrinkled and damp, but it was the only one left.

  “You’ve the look about you tonight.”

  Tears burned the back of her eyes. “It was. It was horrid.”

  “Leave your bags there and come sit by the fire. Libby will bring you a hot toddy while you tell me all about it.” A red-haired… lady… wearing a graying apron over her brilliant green gown grimaced rouged lips but nodded and disappeared.

  Unaware of her employee’s reticence, or simply indifferent, the unique-looking fair-skinned madam led Clarise into an equally exceptional looking parlor, already occupied by several guests. Velvet drapes and furnishings crowded a few pedestals and shelves. Most striking of all, an evergreen tree had been set up on top of a table and it had bows and unlit candles adorning its branches.

  “The Tannenbaum.” Frau Clause suppled. “Take this one here.” She gestured toward a cozy wing backed chair near the hearth and then lowered her own tall form onto the only other unoccupied place to sit.

  Clarise forgot her troubles for a moment as she discreetly studied the eclectic array of guests already taking refuge here. A few of them took notice of her, but most seemed caught up in their own bantering.

  “What did he do to send you out in such a storm?” The Frau made herself comfortable and pinned Clarise with a cool blue gaze.

  Oh, it had been dreadful! “He was kissing another woman.” Clarise’s lower lip trembled and the tears she’d managed to stifle for all of five minutes, fell unheeded. “The wife of our guest. And she is so much more beautiful than I. She’s tiny and exotic and different than I could ever be. And me!” Clarise placed a hand on her soft abdomen. “I was just going to tell him that I’m with child. But what do I find instead? I find another woman in his arms.”

  She winced further as she realized she might well near have wiped the tip of her nose raw. It hurt. Her head hurt.

  Her heart hurt.

  Frau Klaus clucked her tongue. But then, “Ah, thank you, Libby.” She removed a steaming cup of liquid from the tray the girl balanced in her hands and then waited as Bess and Clarise reached for one as well.

  Feeling was gradually returning to Clarise’s fingers and the steam from the liquid immediately soothed the inside of her nostrils. The war
mth from the fire didn’t hurt either.

  “Do you love him?” Frau Klaus asked quietly.

  Did she love him? Oh, yes. He’d been everything to her… until recently.

  “I did.” But that wasn’t true. “I do. But…” More tears. More sniffles.

  Frau Klaus laughed. “How old are you, child?”

  “Oh, I’m no longer a child! I’m seven and twenty. He is three years older. We’ve been married nearly ten years, though.” Clarise had always looked younger than her age, with naturally curling blond hair, pink-tinged cheeks, and a petite and rounded figure.

  Lady Milestone was all that she was not. Dark, sultry, slim.

  Exciting.

  Different.

  “Cornelius – my husband – Viscount Casper,” Clarise began. “He has grown tired of me, I think. I’ve lost two babies, and we’ve been told I may never provide him with an heir. But we love each other. Or I thought we had.” Another round of sobs rose in her throat. “Until today.”

  “There, there.” Bess sat at her feet, patting one knee reassuringly. “He doesn’t deserve you, never has.” Bess turned to explain to the Frau. “Even so, it’s hard to believe he’d betray my lady this way.”

  Clarise blew on her drink and then took a sip.

  “Oh my!” The warmth trickled down her gullet and a pleasant burning sensation followed in her chest. After a few more swallows, she could feel herself relaxing. As much as was possible, under the circumstances.

  “I’m certain Cornelius didn’t set out to do it. He and I had grown…” She closed her eyes. “…distant.”

  “Make no excuses for him, my lady.” Bess, bless her heart, often turned a blind eye to Clarise’s failings.

  Clarise took another sip. “He wanted me to go with him to London last fall. And I didn’t. Every time I see his mother and sisters in London, they lament our lack of children. Is it not so bad I must endure my failures to myself? Not to them. They had promised to be there and so I stayed home, in Maystone.”

  “How are you with child, then, if you don’t mind me asking?”

  Warmth spread up Clarise’s neck and into her face at Madam Klaus’ bold question.

  The memory of his return alone was enough to embarrass her.

  He’d been gone for nearly a month, and Clarise had retired for the night. Alone. He’d surprised her by creeping into her chamber, and then her bed, and sliding himself up behind her.

  “I’ve missed my lady,” he’d whispered behind her ear as she’d awakened. She’d squealed and rolled around in his arms.

  “Cornelius!” She’d welcomed him quite enthusiastically. She had felt so empty without him. As though a part of her had gone missing.

  “He, er, well, he journeyed home once or twice,” Clarise answered, bringing herself back to the present. That weekend had been lovely. Until he’d had to leave again. He’d asked her to join him. He’d begged her.

  Clarise had declined.

  He’d not returned again until last week. He’d not returned alone.

  He’d invited his colleague and old friend, Lord Milestone and his wife along. Not that Clarise minded the gentleman who seemed much older than her husband, slightly balding and sporting something of a paunch, but she would have appreciated being included in the plans.

  And then there had been Lady Milestone. The Earl’s first wife had sickened and died just one year earlier. Clarise had been her friend.

  The new countess wasn’t even half her husband’s age.

  She’d made Clarise feel uncomfortable from the moment they were introduced.

  This had brought on the first argument between Clarise and Cornelius. It seemed as though they’d done nothing but argue since he’d returned home.

  And now it was Christmas and Clarise was miles away from him, stranded by a cold and fierce snowstorm in a brothel of all places.

  For the thousandth time that day, she burst into tears.

  Cornelius ran his hand along Blitzen’s cold, wet neck. He hated that he’d had to bring one of his favorite mounts out in this weather. Even worse, he hated knowing his wife was out in this weather. And it was entirely his fault.

  At least she was in a coach.

  Traveling toward Margate was a risk, he knew, but as soon as he’d learned she’d left with Bess in their best traveling coach, he’d figured she’d want to visit her sister.

  If only the weather hadn’t taken such a turn for the worse. He likely could have caught up with them, and they could have been huddled warm and safe in their chamber already.

  Making up.

  A gust of bitter wind blew right through his woolen coat, lifted the ends of his scarf, and sent his hat flying to God only knew where. Now his ears burned from the cold, as did the back of his neck.

  He bent over and hugged the horse, drawing what warmth he could.

  He needed to find a place to hole up for the night, he knew, for to remain outside would be a death sentence.

  He hoped like hell that Clarise and Bess had stopped for shelter already. A sign up ahead sent relief flooding through him.

  After riding a hundred or so yards further, which felt like a hundred furlongs, he could barely make out the familiar buildings and shops that lined Canterbury’s ancient streets.

  A few gas lamps glowed through the thick flakes of snow, but fear gripped his heart every time he imagined Clarise still on the road.

  Please let her be safe.

  An Inn beckoned up ahead, but as he approached, he watched as someone placed a sign in the frosted window: No vacancy.

  He met with the same sign three more times before pulling off the street to ask for assistance at pub on Castle Street.

  “I’ll be back for you, sweetheart. With something to eat and a place to get you out of this damn storm.” Blitzen whinnied as though she understood every word and then nuzzled him gently. Trampling through the powdery snow, he longed for nothing more than a warm, dry place to rest.

  And his wife. Not particularly in that order.

  Cornelius stepped into the well-lit room and began unwinding his scarf. “We’ve no rooms to let.” The barkeep spoke up before Cornelius made himself too comfortable. “But I ’ear they’ve a few rooms next door at Madam Klaus’ House.”

  Madam Klaus’? The name rang a bell.

  Oh, hell, the brothel. He’d passed it three minutes before deciding on the pub.

  The wind whistled and shook the windows. He didn’t have much choice. Shaking out the long woolen garment Clarise had knit for him last winter, he ran his fingers over the fine knots and then swallowed hard. His fingers and toes had long since gone numb, and his ears were ringing from only a moment of warmth. He hated that his head ached along with the rest of his body. Not a good time to fall ill.

  A brothel it would be.

  It only took him two minutes to walk Blitzen to the famous Madam’s house.

  He didn’t wait long before the heavy door was swung open, and a red-haired lightskirt peered out to look at him. “Aren’t ye a fine one?” She eyed him up and down and then opened the door farther.

  “My horse–” he began.

  “No need to worry, mister.” She turned around and called instructions out to some sort of man servant who quickly went scurrying outside. Before Cornelius could take more than three steps, she was unwinding his scarf and then removing his coat for him. “Come with me, I’ll take care of you tonight. Make a merry Christmas for both of us?” She tugged at his hand.

  “I’m not–” A fit of coughing overtook him just then.

  “You let Libby warm you up.” He felt weak as a lamb as he followed her up the stairs and then down a long corridor. His head was pounding, and he could barely swallow for the pain in his throat. He’d rest for a while and then explain why he was here.

  Why was he here? His mind seemed to turn to sludge. When he went to speak, his mouth refused to obey. He swayed on his feet, and somebody grabbed his arm. “Let me get these wet garments off of you. You’ll cat
ch your death.”

  A little sleep. He dropped onto the bed while the same soft-spoken woman tugged at his boots.

  “Clarise?” he struggled to get out. He was home. Clarise had returned to him. “Wasn’t what you thought,” he mumbled. He needed her to understand.

  “I know, luv. Now lay back. Here’s a quilt for you. I’ll fetch you a hot drink.” Her lips settled on his forehead for the sweetest of moments and he relaxed into the soft bed. Heaven.

  “I love you, Clarise.” He whispered. He needed her to know. He hated that she’d ever doubted him.

  “What’s that lady’s name, that one that got here earlier?”

  Frau Klaus glanced up to see Libby pouring hot water and brandy into a cup. “You shouldn’t have too much of that. You know it makes you sleepy, and we’ve dozens of guests tonight.”

  “It’s not for me, Frau. It’s for the gent who nearly collapsed at my feet a few minutes ago. I’ve put him in the Mistletoe room. “This storm doesn’t let up and we’ll fill them all.”

  It would seem they’d not be having any regular business tonight. Frau Klaus didn’t mind though. She rather enjoyed the visiting travelers. For the most part, they’d been nothing but grateful.