Page 46 of A Christmas Miracle for the Frosty Marquess
A faint smile graced Agnes’s lips, and her eyes fluttered open to meet Clara’s. There was a weariness in them, a deep-seated exhaustion that tore Clara’s heart. But there was also a flicker of determination.
“Fear not for me,” Agnes said weakly. “Your strength... inspires...”
Tears filled Clara’s eyes as she squeezed Agnes’s hand gently. She rested her forehead against the back of Agnes’s hand, letting the coolness of her skin calm her.
The silence of the room was punctuated only by the ticking of the clock and Agnes’s strained breathing. The weight of the situation threatened to suffocate Clara, and her prayers became more fervent with each moment that passed.
Please, she silently implored the heavens.Please, bring them back safely, and in time to help this sweet woman.
Every creak of the old house, every gust of wind outside, made Clara’s heart race. Each time, she hoped it would be the long-awaited return of Julian and Thomas, bearing the physician with them. She closed her eyes, summoning strength from deep within. The children needed her to remain calm and optimistic. Agnes needed her comfort and support. And she needed Julian.
Hoping fervently, she sent one last desperate prayer into the night, praying for the safety of the two men and the prompt arrival of the physician who could save Agnes. When tears stung her eyes once more, she realized she needed to do something to lighten the mood.
The room, bathed in the soft glow of candles, seemed to shimmer in an almost ethereal light. Outside, snow gently caressed the windowpanes, each flake a silent testament to the passage of time. As the weight of anxiety bore down on Clara, she sought to anchor herself with a familiar presence. Her gaze drifted towards Mary, hoping to find some reassurance in the face of her closest confidante.
But what met her reflected her own fear. Mary’s eyes, usually sparkling with mirth and mischief, were shadowed with worry. Her lips were pressed in a thin line, and her hands fidgeted with the lace of her gown. Clara’s heart sank. Seeing Mary’s obvious distress only heightened her own fears for Agnes. A knot tightened in her chest. If Mary, always the optimist, was showing such obvious signs of concern, how grave was the situation truly?
Swallowing the lump in her throat, Clara decided that she had to put up a braver front, if not for herself and Mary, then for the sake of the children. With a determined nod towards Mary, she beckoned the children closer.
“Come,” she said with a bright smile. “Let’s share a tale to pass the time.”
Mary understood Clara’s unspoken plea, catching onto the diversion.
“Yes, indeed,” she said warmly. “Have you children heard the tale of Sir Cedric and the Frozen Lake?”
Emily and George shook their heads, their curiosity piqued. The younger children remained asleep, which Clara felt might have been a blessing for them. Seizing this moment of distraction, Clara did her best to spin a magical tale.
“In 1750, England was a land of both reason and magic,” she said, waving her hands before her as though bringing her words to life with imagination. “While steam engines and scientific discoveries were slowly changing the country, hidden glades and forgotten forests still whispered of the old ways. Sir Cedric, a knight of unmatched valour from a noble lineage, heard one such whisper. It spoke of a frozen lake in the heart of winter, a lake that contained a portal to a magical realm.
“One cold evening, as Sir Cedric sat by the fire, a stranger in a hooded cloak approached. The stranger spoke of a fair princess named Isolde trapped in an enchanted sleep, in a castle surrounded by the frozen waters of that very lake. The enchantment could only be broken with a kiss from a brave heart.” She paused, glancing at Mary for help as she had reached a point where she was fumbling to continue the story.
The children hung onto every word, and Clara was relieved to see that their fears were momentarily forgotten. Mary, ever the devoted, wonderful friend, understood her silent plea. She grinned, continuing the story.
“Sir Cedric, intrigued by the tale and compelled by his honour, set forth to find the lake,” she said with wonder. “Equipped with his sword and shield, he traversed through dense forests and scaled snow-covered mountains. After weeks of searching, he found the frozen lake. Its surface was so clear and polished that it reflected the world above.
“As Sir Cedric stepped onto the lake, he could see the castle deep below the ice, with Princess Isolde lying on a pedestal in its center, her beauty preserved in an eternal slumber.
“However, the journey across the lake was not easy. The ice beneath him would crack and whisper warnings, and spectral warriors appeared, challenging his right to approach the castle. But Sir Cedric, with his heart true and his sword swift, defeated each apparition.”
Clara took over so that Mary could collect herself. Her friend was doing an amazing job with the tale, but Clara could see that worry still tinged her eyes.
“Upon reaching the castle beneath the ice, Sir Cedric found the entrance sealed with a riddle,” Clara said. “And the riddle was this:
“Warmth in winter, cold in heat,
In the heart, two beats meet.”
Clara paused, tapping her chin for dramatic effect before she continued.
“Remembering the stranger’s words about the brave heart, Sir Cedric pressed his hand against the icy door,” she said. “His warmth spread, melting the entrance just enough to allow him passage.
“Inside, the air was still, and the weight of the enchantment pressed down on him. He approached the sleeping Princess Isolde and, taking a deep breath, leaned down and kissed her.”
Mary’s eyes lit up, and Clara gave her an encouraging smile to let her finish the story.
“The moment their lips met, the enchantment shattered,” she said. “The ice above the lake melted away, and the castle rose to the surface. Princess Isolde awoke, her eyes meeting Sir Cedric’s. The magical realm rejoiced, and the spirits of the lake sang in celebration.
“Grateful for her freedom, Princess Isolde invited Sir Cedric to stay in her kingdom. But Sir Cedric, ever the wandering knight, chose to return to England, his heart filled with memories of the magical realm and the princess he had saved.
