Lady Nola is a woman of good-standing, but one tragic mistake is set to change her life forever. Rather than be forced to wed a stranger to hide her transgressions, she flees from home. With child, hungry and homeless, Nola wanders the streets of medieval London in search of a Christmas miracle.
A Medieval Christmas
Nola gripped her handkerchief tighter as a fresh wave of sickness overwhelmed her once more.
“Nola, dear, are you quite well? You do look awfully pale.”
Nola moved her hand to her mouth. Could she reach the privacy of her chambers in time?
“Perhaps you ought to—”
Nola sprinted out of the family solar before her mother uttered another word. So much for keeping the matter a secret. She could hide her situation from the household no longer.
She found her quarters, staggered to her bed, and flopped down, the queasiness lessening. Her unrelenting mother followed.
“I am fine, Mama, please return to our guests.”
Lady Langley smoothed Nola’s hair away from her face. “Do you have something to disclose, Nola?”
The calm yet disappointed tone in her mother’s voice grabbed her attention. “What can you mean?”
Her mother sighed. “For the past week, these bouts of sickness have occurred every morning. By my calculations, that’s two months since Michaelmas.”
Heat rose to Nola’s cheeks. Michaelmas. Just the mention of the word forced myriad memories to her mind. Her naive, foolish behavior would lead to her downfall.
“Who is the father?”
Nola gasped. She did not wish to deal with this so soon. She’d barely had time to gather her own thoughts on the matter.
“Surely, you know. Unless—”
Nola lifted her head, resting her cheek in her hand. “No, Mama. I was not forced upon.”
“Then tell me his name, for we must arrange the two of you to wed before your circumstances become apparent.”
She sighed. If only a marriage was possible. “He will no doubt be halfway across Europe by now.”
Lady Langley stood abruptly. “Gracious, child. What on earth were you thinking? Why could you not save yourself for matrimony? Do you not realize the shame this will bring to our family?”
“I-I am well aware...”
“Have you no thought to your father’s predicament with the king? There is no room for a scandal.” She circled the chamber. “We can secure you a match before you begin to show.”
“Mama, no one will want me now. What kind of man would take another man’s child as his own?”
“None that I am aware of, but he need not ever know.”
She gasped. “You wish for me to trick him into matrimony? Bestow upon him a lie that I will carry for the rest of my days?” Nola sat up, her anger rising. “Besides, no one with good sense could be so easily fooled. The dates would not add-up.”
“Nonsense, babies are born earlier than nine months all the time.”
“What man would be willing to wed me with such haste?”
“Someone below your station, seeking a good dowry. A knight perhaps, with modest lands. ’Tis a shame, for I wanted you to marry a baron at least. Still, it is better than you being cast out into the streets.”
“You mean I would not be welcome here with my baby?”
“Not unwed, child. Think of the slander.”
Nola snorted. “I have committed a great sin indeed. I am well aware of this. But I cannot, in good conscience, wed a stranger I do not love and pretend the infant I carry within me belongs to him. ’Tis not right.”
“Then what do you propose to do, daughter?”
“I know not.” Nola rubbed her stomach absentmindedly. “There is a convent in the north of England that cares for new mothers without husbands. It be far away, but perhaps only a week’s ride from here.”
“But you are not widowed, and besides, they would expect for you to take the vow. You would lose your rights as a mother.”
“Foundlings are cared for by the church. I may be able to remain to see the child grow.”
“Yes, but you would not be the mother. Would you entrust your baby with them, and go back for it after your wedding? What then? Would your new husband wish to take on an orphan?” She shook her head. “No, you must listen to me on this. I will talk with your father, and we will find you a suitable match. With good fortune, we’ll have you wed by Christmas.”