The Art of Kissing Beneath the Mistletoe

by Crosby, Tanya Anne

  In the distance, Lady Morrissey’s head bobbed behind a plant. Then Claire’s did as well. “Hmmm?”

  “That book you were reading.”

  “Oh, yes,” she said. “I do.”

  “And what is it about botany that interests you, precisely?”

  Annoyed, even though she didn’t wish to be, Alexandra dropped her toast onto her plate. “Really, Ben. Do you truly wish to know?”

  He nodded emphatically, and suddenly, inexplicably, her mood lifted, and she forgot about breakfast, forgot about time, and even forgot about the Peeping Tom’s in the foyer.

  “Well… of late, I have been following the works of Charles Darwin. Perhaps you recall him? He spent one summer a few years ago helping his father in Shropshire before attending University.”

  “You mean the bloke who was on about eating beetles and owls?”

  Alexandra pursed her lips and nodded.

  “I believe that was the same year—”

  “Yes!” Alexandra said quickly, nodding again. “He came to dinner again after you and Claire left. I believe my mother had romantic designs, until he went on and on about bombardier beetles discharging in his hand.”

  Ben laughed. “Did she show him the door?”

  Alexandra giggled, and nodded. “She couldn’t see him leave quickly enough, though he did give me a book before he went away, and I’ve been enthralled ever since.”

  “Really,” said Ben, nodding, his brow furrowing, and he seemed genuinely surprised. “I never even knew.”

  Alexandra smiled contentedly. “Most recently he wrote a paper about divine design in nature, and, so I understand, that on the twenty-seventh of this month—three days hence—he is to embark upon a journey to investigate geology.”

  “Where to?”

  Alexandra shrugged. “Who knows. My mother didn’t say. I suppose she’s only pleased he won’t be returning to Shropshire any day soon. And yet I shall, indeed, await his discoveries with bated breath.”

  “So… this is your interest as well—divine design in nature?”

  “Oh, no!” said Alexandra. “It is not. I am, of course, fascinated with natural philosophy and zoological speculation, but I much prefer learning about the medicinal properties of plants more than their evolution.”

  “Medicine,” he said, surprising Alexandra with an approving nod. “That’s quite a profession. Your mother will be…”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, lifting a hand. “I don’t actually intend to practice,” she said. “I only wish to—“

  Suddenly, from somewhere in the manor came a peal of laughter and then an ungodly squeal, and everyone emerged from their hiding places to go see what the matter was.

  Ben himself was up in a flash, and Alexandra was directly behind him. Altogether they rushed into the hall, only to discover that Merrick’s wife was suddenly in labor.

  Everyone stood staring at the puddle on the floor, as every last occupant of the house came scurrying out of the woodwork.

  What was more, everyone, including Chloe’s husband, stood staring at poor Chloe, who now stood in the middle of the foyer, looking terrified. No one seemed to have their wits about them to do anything at all— until Chloe bent over and gave another ungodly yowl, and Alexandra realized that, for better or worse, she might be the only one with the knowledge to help. “Is there a midwife?” she asked one of the servants.

  The woman looked terrified. “She’s late, mum, waylaid by the weather. Her boy took ill, she’s—”

  “Don’t worry! I am a doctor,” howled Chloe.

  “A lot of good you’ll do for yourself in that condition,” said Alexandra. “Please,” she said to the kitchen maid, “Send someone to Hampton Court at once to inquire about a doctor.” And then she turned to yet another servant and demanded, “Boil rags, bring them upstairs.” And then to Chloe’s husband and to Ben, “Dear God, don’t just stand there! Carry her upstairs!”

  Chapter 9

  24 December

  Rule No. 9:

  On Keeping It Private.

  You are not required to kiss under a mistletoe hanging in any public place. Gentlemen, please! Be mindful! Ladies, please! Consider your reputation!

  Ben didn’t recognize the woman possessing Lexie’s body; it certainly wasn’t the retiring young lady he’d known since early years. Proper though she might still be, she was comporting herself with all the confidence of a matron—only perhaps to be expected, considering that she’d fended for herself most of her life. And still, it surprised Ben. This was not a face she’d ever allowed him to see.

  Like nobody’s business, she took charge of the situation, despite that he would have expected his dutiful sister to fulfill the role. Caught off guard, Claire was as dumbstruck as the rest of them.

  “Well!” said Alexandra, clapping her hands, and Chloe gave another hapless yelp of pain.

  Afterward, all four men scrambled to do Alexandra’s bidding, all at once attempting to lift Chloe, but her husband impatiently shoved everyone aside and swept his wife into his arms to carry her upstairs. Only Alexandra followed, leaving the rest of them to stare, openmouthed, at their ascending forms, and long, long after they had departed, Ben stood staring up the stairwell as Claire wrung her hands with worry. “Well,” she said. “We all knew a Christmas baby was entirely possible. But I really didn’t believe it would happen.”

  “I shouldn’t have made the poor dear laugh,” lamented Lady Morrissey. “I—”

  “Stop,” said Ian. “We are all to blame for not minding our own affairs, but this was nobody’s fault. That child was due to arrive sooner or later.”

  “And nevertheless, do you think she overexerted?” worried Lady Morrissey, and Mr. Cameron snapped, “What I believe, my dear, is that Chloe is very, very pregnant.”

  The servants all dispersed, while Claire, Ian, Cameron and Lady Morrissey all remained to pace the hall and to wait for the physician’s arrival. Ben left them to do their worst to the marble floors and ascended to look for Alexandra.

  He wasn’t particularly worried. In truth, they weren’t far from the Palace—only a few hundred meters. Snow or no snow, the doctor would arrive in due time. There was no way they would allow a member of the Royal House of Meridian—a guest of the Crown—to suffer through childbirth unattended. Whether the physician had to travel by horse or by foot, he had no doubt the man would arrive within the hour. And in the meantime, Chloe herself was a doctor, and he found that he was perfectly fascinated—and eager—to learn what more Alexandra knew—Alexandra, the woman he’d so long believed hadn’t the head for anything more sober than ballgowns or jewels.

  Waiting for her to emerge from Chloe’s bedchamber, he stood on the upstairs landing, still watching for the physician’s arrival from his vantage of the upstairs window.

  His expectations proved entirely correct. A fine thoroughbred appeared in less than thirty minutes time, and once the man arrived and entered the birthing suite, Alexandra herself emerged, wiping her hands on her satin skirts, with hardly a care for stains. With a very shy smile, she came to stand by Ben at the window, and said, “Well… wasn’t that exciting?”

  Ben found himself grinning at her, seeing her through entirely new eyes—eyes that had never truly seen her before. “Indeed, it was,” he said. “You were quite the champ.” And he watched as her cheeks bloomed rose.

  “I’m sorry if I was rude earlier,” she said, looking chagrined.

  He lifted a hand. “No need, Lexie. You did as you should have done faced with a lot of bumbling idiots.”

  “Not quite bumbling,” she demurred, and peered down at her hands, then held them primly before her as she glanced out the window. “But sadly,” she said. “I was rather enjoying our conversation…”

  For once, she’d refrained from saying, but Ben knew very well that’s what she was thinking, as was he. And yet, so it seemed, he was the one with the mistake in thought. Alexandra couldn’t have changed so much overnight. No, indeed. She
was entirely other than he’d ever supposed—more like Claire than even Claire was. She had a brain, and she wasn’t afraid to use it.

  “So was I,” he admitted, and when Alexandra met his gaze, he could see that she had gleaned some of what he was thinking. Her blush deepened, and she peered down at her joined hands, looking for a moment as she had that day he’d wrangled the promise of a kiss from her…

  He had been so callow then… and she so artless—all her feelings discernible in her eyes… as they were right now.

  Ben had known then that he’d loved her. Something about that lovely, starry-eyed look she used to give him had always made him feel like a king in her presence—and wasn’t that the thing about love? The way one felt in a loved one’s presence?

  Until recently, Alexandra had always made him feel as though he was more than he was.

  She’d made him long to be the man she wanted him to be…

  And then, after the ordeal with her father, he’d found he loathed himself, both in and out of her company.

  “She’s too good for you,” he heard the echo of a voice from years past—a grim-faced ghost he should like to forget.

  The one thing nobody ever knew—no one but he and Lord Huntington—was that, indeed, once upon a time, Ben had asked for Lexie’s hand in marriage.

  Fresh faced, with more balls than brains, and thinking there was no one in this entire world he’d prefer to spend his life with, he’d put himself in front of a monster. And, of course, her father had refused him.

  Then later, after his financial burdens were made known, the man had made it a point to remind Ben of their conversation, and the denigrations he’d made. And so, it seemed to Ben that he had managed to live up to every disparaging word.

  Not only had he despised himself for what he’d become, he’d feared what he would spy in Alexandra’s eyes… so he’d avoided her entirely. And then, when he saw her again, and she looked at him with such disdain… he simply couldn’t bear it.

  Discomfited perhaps, Alexandra peered over his shoulder, out the window, and then up over their heads, and her breath caught, drawing Ben’s attention to a small sprig of mistletoe hanging over their heads.

  He grinned then, hardly inclined to let this pass without pressing his advantage… and yet, before doing so, he intended to give her one last chance to walk away…

  “It’s everywhere,” she said apologetically, as though its presence were entirely her fault, and yet she didn’t leave. She stood, glancing again out the window.

  Ben waited… but for what, he didn’t precisely know—perhaps to savor the moment, to remember the way she looked this very moment, with her lovely green morning dress and her curls haphazardly escaping her coif.

  She did, indeed, look a bit worse for the wear, but it didn’t matter to him one bit.

  He and Lexie stood together so long that after a time, Alexandra spied travelers traipsing through the snow and she tipped her chin so Ben would look as well.

  Slowly but surely, a company of carolers took form—traveling from the direction of the Palace. They came laden with gifts, their voices carrying along the sun-warmed winter air, and in that moment, Ben couldn’t explain the swell of emotion that compelled him, but he reached out to take Alexandra’s hand, his heart hammering fiercely. Much to his relief, she accepted it without question, and still he waited… only wanting her to be certain.

  After everything they’d endured, he didn’t want to marry Alexandra to spite her father—that was the furthest thing from his mind. But, in that moment, he knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he still wished to marry her, and he didn’t intend to kiss her until he knew she wanted the same.

  Downstairs, the carolers came near enough that they could hear them, singing…

  Silent night, holy night

  All is calm, all is bright

  Round yon Virgin, Mother, Mother and Child

  Holy infant so tender and mild

  Sleep in heavenly peace…

  And when they were close enough to serenade from the stoop, Ben turned, releasing her hand only to clasp Alexandra by the arms, turning her to face him. “Lexie,” he began, and the world faded away.

  There was a certain something in Ben’s eyes… something Alexandra remembered and realized she missed so desperately.

  Was this happening, truly?

  She held her breath, hardly able to speak, much less breathe.

  In the space of a few days, something had changed between them—something she couldn’t put a finger on, but it was evident nonetheless—in Benji’s eyes, in the way he was looking at her right now…

  “Are you in love?” asked a child’s voice.

  Alexandra gasped aloud, turning to spy the bearer of the voice. “Drina!”

  The future Queen of England stood peeking about the bannister, grinning. Tiny as she was at twelve, she was already shedding the bearing of a child, acquiring the command of a queen, and curiosity danced in her clear blue eyes.

  Ben gave the child a reverent nod, and said, “Yes, I do believe we are, Your Highness.” And then he turned to Lexie, and asked, “Are we?”

  Tears swam in Alexandra’s eyes. “Yes,” she said. “I do believe we are.”

  “Well,” said Drina excitedly, clapping her hands with all the enthusiasm of a child on her birthday. “My mother says I shall wed my cousin one day, and I think the two of you should be wed as well!”

  There was nothing that could have prepared Alexandra for the majesty of the moment. Benjamin gave the royal child a dutiful bow, then a nod and a smile. “Your wish is my command,” he said to Drina, then he fell to his knees before Alexandra.

  “Alexandra Grace,” he said, once again taking Lexie by the hand. “Would you do me the honor of agreeing to become my lawful, wedded wife?”

  “Wait!” said Drina. “You’ll need a promise ring!” And she removed a small emerald ring from her thumb and rushed forward to give it to Ben.

  Outside, the carolers came closer, sang louder, and if either Alexandra or Ben had any inclination to look, they might have glimpsed the Duchess of Kent amidst other royal guests—King William, too. Having been apprised of the impending birth of a royal child, they’d arrived bearing gifts and singing a song for the child to be born this eve.

  “Will you marry me?” asked Ben, as he held up the gifted ring for her inspection.

  Alexandra swallowed her emotion. “I will,” she said, and Benjamin slid the ring onto her small finger. Peering up then, over her head, he grinned. And perhaps he shouldn’t have needed to pluck a drupe for this kiss, but very, very slowly, and very purposely, he rose up to snap a drupe, showing it first to Alexandra, and when she nodded, he took her into his arms and drew her close. And this time there was no hesitation at all as he wrapped his arms about her to collect his long-overdue mistletoe kiss.

  From her vantage upon the stairs, Drina clapped very exuberantly and squealed with delight. “Huzzah!” she shouted. “Huzzah!”

  Inside the birthing chamber, Chloe howled, and her husband yowled.

  Downstairs, in the foyer, the front door opened to admit the royal carolers amidst swirls of snow… but Benjamin Dylan Wentworth wasn’t the least bit interested in what was happening anywhere but here… in his arms.

  “I love you,” he said.

  “I love you,” she said.

  And then, truly, there were no more words. Benjamin’s fingers splayed on her back, pulling her close… his lips descended upon Alexandra’s, molding themselves against the soft-warm, supple flesh of her lips. And he kissed her thoroughly and tenderly… a smoldering, but gentle kiss hot enough to warm Lexie to the very depths of her soul.

  Below stairs the carolers sang a brand-new song.

  “Deck the halls with boughs of holly

  Fa la la la la la la la la

  This is not the end… keep turning the pages until you reach the epilogue—but only if you dare…

  Birth Announcement

  Recipe Plum Pudding (
Containing the Mysteries of Life)

  From Godey’s Lady's Book and Magazine, Dec. 1860

  1lb raisins

  1lb currants

  1lb beef suet or 2oz sweet almonds and 1oz bitter almonds

  1lb sifted flour

  1lb bread crumbs soaked in milk and squeeze dried and mashed

  2oz preserved citron, orange

  2oz lemon peel

  1/4 oz mixed spice

  8 eggs

  1/4 lb moist sugar

  Stone carefully one pound of the best raisins, wash and pick one pound of currants, chop very small one pound of fresh beef suet, blanch and chop small or pound two ounces of sweet almonds and one ounce of bitter ones; mix the whole well together, with one pound of sifted flour, and the same weight of crumb of bread soaked in milk, then squeezed dry and stirred with a spoon until reduced to a mash before it is mixed with the flour.

  Cut in small pieces two ounces each of preserved citron, orange, and lemon-peel, and add a quarter of an ounce of mixed spice; quarter of a pound of moist sugar should be put into a basin, with eight eggs, and well beaten together with a three-pronged fork; stir this with the pudding, and make it of a proper consistence with milk.

  Remember that it must not be made too thin, or the fruit will sink to the bottom, but be made to the consistence of good thick batter. Two wineglassfuls of brandy should be poured over the fruit and spice, mixed together in a basin, and allowed to stand three or four hours before the pudding is made, stirring them occasionally.

  It must be tied in a cloth, and will take five hours of constant boiling. When done, turn it out on a dish, sift loaf-sugar over the top, and serve it with wine-sauce in a boat, and some poured round the pudding. The pudding will be of considerable size, but half the quantity of materials, used in the same proportion, will be equally good.