Once Upon A Christmas Past

6. Chapter 6

Chapter six

T he boy raced down the street, less than a block from Scrooge House. So close, yet so far. His short legs pumped like steam engine pistons, but he wasn’t fast enough. He had begun to despair when he spied a carriage hitched to twin steeds stamping clouds of snow. A whip cracked above their heads and as they trotted off, the boy shifted the stew to his left arm, swerved behind the vehicle, and latched onto the bar of the mudguard. Wheels churned slush, splashing arcs as they found traction, dragging the boy behind. His boots slid along the icy road. Faster and faster.

The bell tolled six…

Later that afternoon when Raven arrived at Wexford House, she found the household in a flurry of holiday preparations and John not at home. Sadness hitched in her chest to see the harried servants rushing to deck the halls, doing their duty like soldiers on a mission. Where was the joy of the season? Gingerbread baking in the oven. Competitions for the most well-turned-out tree? The laughter? For the Cratchit family, Christmas trimming was practically a national holiday.

“You may wait in the parlor if you like, Miss Cratchit,” Grant, the Griffins’ butler kindly offered as he tucked her card into his pocket.

Raven shifted to find her sister’s eyes at half mast, chin tilted just so, her lips pursed, one corner curled in a kittenish grin. Belinda liked to model her flirtation skills for Raven, hoping they might wear off someday. Bel complained that science had permeated Raven’s brain causing her to appear more automaton than young woman.

Trying to observe her sister as an outsider, Raven noted that Bel’s nose was a bit too pronounced for most to consider pretty, her mouth a fraction too wide, and her figure a bit too shapely for convention. But her warmth and vivacity, her insatiable zest for life, had always drawn the eye of every man she had encountered.

In experimentation, Raven mimicked her sister’s coquettish expression and popped out a hip, placing a hand on the smallest part of her waist. Grant did a double-take, his pale-blue eyes taking on a dazed quality as one end of the ribbon-strewn garland he held tumbled to the floor.

Face heating in shame, Raven wiped her expression clean and straightened. “Thank you, Grant. If you expect Lor—" Her throat closed on the title John no longer held, only a sharp elbow from Belinda restarting her speech. “…Lord Wexford home within the hour, then I shall wait.”

The man gave a nod, his balding head catching a shine from the hanging candelabra as he turned on his heel. “Follow me, if you please.”

Once ensconced in the parlor, promised refreshments on the way, Raven lowered to a delicate chintz sofa patterned with large flowers, the ornate legs painted gold. “Honestly, Bel, your flirtation is akin to a weapon.”

Belinda sat across from her and tapped a finger to her lips. “I would liken it more to an art. One that takes practice to perfect. Your attempt on the butler was clumsy at best.”

“Well, I certainly have no need of such arts when I already have a fiancé,” Raven said primly.

“Ah…” Bel leaned back and arched a single brow. “But how do you plan to keep him? Even husbands long for a bit of mystery.”

“Perhaps,” Raven said, dismissing the topic as she observed the recently remodeled room. Watered silk paper covered the walls in a veritable forest complete with exotic creatures and towering reeds of bamboo. Touches of the East were everywhere. A carved Chinese screen unfolded in the far corner; a blue and white vase depicted an ornate temple and a filigree bridge beside a draping willow tree. The oriental carpet beneath her snow-dampened boots colored the floor in a dizzying array of tints and patterns. Imported goods were in high demand among the gentry and came at exorbitant cost.

“Don’t you just love what they’ve done with this room?” Bel asked as she stood to get a closer look at the scenic wall panels. “I can almost imagine myself in Asia, staying in a charming pagoda.”

“I find it frivolous. If one had traveled to the Orient and brought home mementos to remind them of their trip, I suppose I could see it.”

“As you say,” Belinda flounced to the door. “I’m off to the library to find a book to pass the time.”

“Don’t you dare leave me,” Raven hissed. But her sister was already gone.

Uncharacteristically agitated, Raven stood up, turned in a circle and then sat back down. She smoothed her skirts, determining to appear outwardly poised even if her insides flipped like an organ grinder’s monkey. She picked up a ceramic hut with Chinese markings from the table beside her and muttered, “Wasteful.”

“They make very convincing replicas now, you know.” John’s amused voice caused Raven to rise and spin around. He took the statue from her gloved hands, turned it over, and pointed to a symbol printed on the bottom corner. “You see?”

Raven leaned in. A crown, surrounded with circular letters read: Chamberlain a too-wide mouth, full cheeks, and a short forehead. She adjusted the crown of her hat and ran a hand over the plum-colored ribbons that fell over her black hair rather becomingly. She cocked her head and wondered what Brit saw when he looked at her.

“And what happens at the engagement dinner this Sunday?” Bel asked, fluttering her lashes in a parody of flirtation. “The new Mr. Griffin appears fit. Quite toothsome in fact.” She snapped her teeth together as if biting a tasty morsel.

“Belinda!” Raven spun on her sister.

“Of course, I mean to say, healthy,” she clarified with an impish grin. “He is well enough to attend, wouldn’t you agree?”

Her sister’s words only fueled her own inappropriate feelings, so Raven pasted on a grin and gave Bel a playful push. “Enough about me. What of the charming, Mr. Fox? He appeared quite taken with you.” A sudden knot formed in Raven’s throat given her sister’s painful history. “Unlike most, he sees you for who you truly are. Brit even…”

Belinda tossed a caramel curl over her shoulder. “Don’t be daft. Such men are merely enticed by the chase. I’m quite finished with the raffish sort.”

“But he sees you, Bel. He truly sees you.”

Belinda frowned. “Men like that never see beyond their own ego and how a woman’s presence feeds it.”

Raven arched a brow, noting Bel’s sudden fascination with a brown, wool gaberdine shawl. Knowing her sister’s discomfort when reminded of her tragic past and current circumstance, she played along. “Is that so?”

“This shawl would do nicely for Martha, don’t you think?” Bel questioned in a meek voice.

“Quite.” Their older sister tended towards more serviceable clothing since having children. “May we return to our shopping, then? Christmas is less than two weeks away.”

After Bel nodded her agreement, Raven turned away to hide a sigh. Her sister had accurately read her mind, per usual. Brit Griffin had most definitely captured her attention for more than one reason. Her heart gave an uncomfortable flutter. If Brit chose to claim his title, he would become a permanent fixture in her life. Her brother-in-law . A weight settled on her chest. How would he react when he learned the truth? Would he mind that she was engaged to John? Would the news affect him at all? The day after next, she would find out.