“I cannot wait,” Amy said with a conspiratorial smile. “Thank you so much.”
“I cannot wait, either!”
Despite the frosty air, the boys were covered with a thin sheen of sweat by the time they managed to haul the log to the front door. They needed the help of three additional men to lift it over the threshold and carry it into the great hall.
“Careful, the floor!” Kendra warned. “It’s just been polished.”
In fact, the servants were not quite finished: at the far end they were still spreading the milk that would dry to a high sheen. Amy gawked at the buzz of activity. From the planked floor to the intricate oak hammerbeam ceiling, the immense great hall swarmed with people. Paintings were dusted, tapestries cleaned and rehung on the stone walls. Servants chattered excitedly as they brought in heavy, ancient trestle tables and set them with row after row of trenchers and cutlery.
“What’s happening?” Amy asked, one eye on the men struggling to get the log into the enormous fireplace.
Kendra crossed her arms and tapped a foot disapprovingly. “Didn’t Colin tell you about Christmas at Cainewood?”
Amy shook her head. “Is there to be an entertainment tonight?”
“Tomorrow. All the castle retainers, tenants, and villagers will come for Christmas dinner, complete with gifts for everyone.” Kendra waved a hand expansively. “Isn’t it glorious? I love Christmas!”
Amy laughed. “I love Christmas, too. I was too young to remember it before the Commonwealth.”
“As was I. That wretched Cromwell…” Kendra wiped her tongue and spit. “That I should even say such an evil name. Eleven years with no Christmas—look, Amy, it fits!” She clapped her hands.
The log snugged in the fireplace with room to spare. The brothers were remarkably well behaved, throwing nothing more than a few gloating glances in Amy’s direction.
“You told me so!” she said for them with a giggle, and their answering laughter echoed in the cavernous hall.
“Food.” Colin wiped his palms on his breeches. “After all that work, a man needs food.”
“Christmas Eve supper awaits,” Kendra announced.
In contrast to the great hall, the private family dining room seemed small and intimate, the air suffused with savory scents that made Amy’s mouth water. Colin loaded her plate with clove-studded turkey, Yorkshire Christmas pie, artichoke bottoms and potatoes in pastry, spinach tart, and one of the new French rolls. Kendra started with a slice of almond cheesecake, a wedge of pumpkin pie, and an apple taffety tart.
“Kendra, Kendra.” Jason heaved a good-natured sigh. “Pumpkin pie when there’s Yorkshire pie on the table?” He spooned up a bite, the hearty crust filled with a mixture of turkey, goose, partridge, pigeon, hare, and woodcock, all swimming in butter. “When will you grow up?”
“Buttered ale?” Kendra said sweetly, ignoring him as she poured a dipperful from the huge, ivy-garlanded wassail bowl that dominated the table. She floated a square of brown toast on top and handed the cup to Amy.
“Thank you.” Amy sniffed deep of the hot ale, mulled with beaten eggs, sugar, spices and the pulp of roasted apples. When she took a sip, it warmed her to her very bones. “It’s so lovely here,” she said, thinking of Christmases past in the single room her family had used for cooking, eating, and socializing. “A different world. Look at the firelight dancing on the beveled windows.”
“It doesn’t hold a candle to the sparkle in your eyes.” Everyone groaned as Colin took a big gulp of buttered ale. “Or the blush on your cheeks,” he added with a laugh.
Ford lobbed a bit of toast at him.
When everyone had crammed in the last possible bite, they all walked to the great hall with many competing moans of regretted gluttony. There they lit the Yule Log and sang the traditional Christmas carols, with Kendra accompanying on the harpsichord, which had been moved into the hall for the occasion.
The five of them were dwarfed by the enormous chamber, but warm and merry, clustered at one end with the fire burning cheerfully. When they ran out of songs, they opened their gifts.
Jason’s serious face split into a smile when he saw his pearl cravat pin, and he put it on immediately. Kendra slipped the emerald ring on her finger and declared it her favorite piece of jewelry. Ford disappeared upstairs after opening his gift, returning with his new jeweled hatband adorning a fashionable wide-brimmed hat, which he wore the rest of the evening.
Amy couldn’t have been more pleased.
Kendra’s gift to Amy was a large selection of shoes, stockings, ribbons, and nightgowns in an assortment of colors—the latter made of a sumptuous, filmy material that whispered over Amy’s skin.
Jason had wrapped up the history books Amy had left piled on the mosaic table in his library, and she clutched them to her chest in delight.
Looking pleased with himself, Ford presented her with a selection of hard-milled scented soaps, floral bath oils, and French perfumes that had Colin wondering aloud at why such a gift would come from his little brother—until Amy playfully punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, in laughter, not pain, and Amy couldn’t remember when she’d had as much fun.
After everyone’s gifts had been opened—a long proceeding, as each individual present was passed around and properly admired—Jason called for the plum porridge.
Amy groaned. “I cannot eat another bite.”
“Oh, but you must have a serving.” Kendra scooped a healthy dollop and plopped it in Amy’s bowl. “Hidden within it are tokens that foretell of the year to come.”
Colin’s bowl held the first prize, a silver penny, predicting a fortune in the offing. “I’ve fortune enough for a lifetime already,” he declared in a chivalrous tone, his gaze fastened on Amy.
This earned him another chorus of groans and several balled-up wrappings aimed at his head—from everyone but Amy, who found herself entranced by the heat of Colin’s expression. The room suddenly felt overwarm.
“Oh, no.” Jason pulled a ring from his mouth, rolling his eyes as he licked it clean. “This should be Kendra’s, surely.”
They all laughed again.
“What does
