He nodded eagerly, looking far too much like Matthew did when he was excited.
She looked at Freddie rather blandly. “What could possibly go wrong?”
He shrugged. “I’ll go first.” He stepped closer to the table.
“Good lad, son!” Colin praised. “Now, the rest of us have to sing a song while he attempts it, and he must have as many raisins as he can out before we finish. Here’s the song:
Here comes the flaming bowl,
Don’t he mean to take his toll,
Snip! Snap! Dragon!
Take care you don’t take too much,
Be not greedy in your clutch,
Snip! Snap! Dragon!”
Bitty clapped excitedly. “Let’s play!”
“I have a terrible feeling about this,” Susannah said to no one in particular.
No one answered her.
“Come here, Freddie,” Colin said, gesturing. “Ready?” At Freddie’s nod, he led everyone in singing the song again.
Freddie winced the entire time, but managed to get one raisin out.
Bitty clapped wildly, then exclaimed, “Me next!”
Colin nodded and moved her into position, then gestured for them all to start the song again.
They only got to the first “Snip! Snap! Dragon!” before disaster struck.
Chapter Eighteen
"I didn’t mean to spill flaming brandy everywhere.”
“We know, sweetheart.”
“I could have b-burned somebody!”
“But you didn’t.”
“I just got scared of the fire, and hit the bowl on accident!”
“It’s fine, Bitty. Really.”
Bitty sniffled and looked up at Susannah. “Really?”
She nodded and kissed her hair. “It really is. Maybe that game will be better when you are a bit older, hmm?
Bitty nodded quickly. “It looks fun, and Freddie was so good at it.”
“Not that good,” Freddie scowled. “I only got one.”
“I could have done two,” Rosie hissed at him.
He gave her a sardonic look. “Right.”
Colin sat in a chair by the table, now bereft of bowls, brandy, and raisins, his head lowered, his arms braced on his knees. He wasn’t speaking to anyone, and if it weren’t for the movement of his chest with his now steady breathing, he might have been dead.
Really, it could have been so much worse. The brandy from Bitty’s mishap had gone on the table and the carpet, but the flames had been stamped out very quickly, and only the faintest marks left behind. It had all been handled with a speed and efficacy that was quite impressive, and aside from Bitty’s feelings and Colin’s pride, nothing had actually been damaged.
All in all, Rosie would have counted that a victory.
Kit paced on the other side of the room, looking out of the window, then over at the clock, and then down at Cat, who kept trying to reach for a branch of the Christmas tree when they were near enough. His face was taut, his brow furrowed, and Rosie expected that he would also adopt Colin’s defeated pose in the other chair before too long.
Marianne looked at Bitty with a soft smile. “Would it make you feel better to perform your theatrical for us, Bitty?”
She sniffled and looked up at Rosie. “Should we?”
Rosie shrugged a shoulder. “We certainly can. I’m ready.”
Bitty glanced at Colin, who still hadn’t moved. “Colin? Can we do the theatrical now?”
For a moment, Rosie thought Colin hadn’t heard her. But then, wonder of wonders, his hands slid back on his thighs and his head lifted. “Yes, Bitty,” he said in a low voice, managing a smile. “I would love a theatrical right about now.”
Bitty, ever conscious of her brothers, turned to Kit. “Kit?”
He jerked in his pacing, surprised by being addressed. “What? Oh, yes, yes, the theatrical.” He nodded quickly and came to sit next to Marianne. “Yes.”
Bitty slid from the sofa and gestured for the others to come with her.
Rosie and Freddie dragged the satchel out into the hall and began helping the little ones with their costumes.
“Do you remember your parts?” she asked Rafe and Matthew once they were dressed.
They nodded in unison. “I’m Papa!” Rafe announced proudly.
“No, I’m Papa!” Matthew argued.
“You are both your papas,” Freddie intervened quickly. “You have different papas, remember?”
They looked at each other, then shrugged.
Rosie rolled her eyes and handed Freddie the tricorne hat. “If we manage to pull this off, it will be an absolute miracle.”
“They’re supposed to play their fathers,” Freddie reminded her. “I think they’ve already perfected it.”
That made Rosie scoff and she looked over at Livvy, who was perfectly dressed in her costume. “Do you remember your part, Livvy?”
She nodded with a smile. “I’m the nanny.”
And she was utterly adorable, too.
Rosie grinned at her. “Good girl.”
She glanced around at the others. Bitty had her blue silk cape on and a mask in hand, while Ginny wore a pair of gloves, gaudy jewelry, and carried a reticule.
“Bitty, take our play Yule candle. Ginny, put some holly in there.”
They both nodded and did so.
Freddie emptied the satchel of everything else, then put the false presents back in it and hefted it over his shoulder.
Rosie grinned when he stood. “You stuffed your shirt?”
He patted his now round stomach. “What sort of odd uncle would I be if I didn’t have a proper belly?”
“Colin,” Ginny answered, making them all laugh.
“What’s the delay?” Colin called out to them, sounding more like himself. “We want a show!”
Rosie rolled her eyes. “All right, let’s go.” Wrapped in a thick shawl and wearing the monocle, she marched out with a walking stick and stood in front of the tree. “Ladies and gentlemen, the Gerrards of the younger generation present for your entertainment… A Gerrard Family Christmas.”
The adults grinned at each other, applauding.
“Our story begins on Christmas Eve,” Rosie began, her tone resembling Tibby’s, “many, many years ago, in a house far away. In this house, there were two Gerrard boys, who were very troublesome and energetic.” She nodded at Livvy, who gently pushed the boys into the room.
True to character, they barged in, whooping and hollering, running circles around Rosie, who pretended not to notice.
Colin and Kit hooted in laughter, pointing at their sons.
“And, of course, these boys had a very sweet, very exhausted, and no doubt underpaid nanny.”
Livvy charged into the room, chasing after the boys with a worried look on her face. “Colin! Kit! Come back here! Come back!” she cried in a too-high voice.
The adults roared with laughter.
Rosie took two steps to her left, letting the madness continue there. “And on this Christmas Eve,” Rosie intoned, “the Gerrard boys were also blessed to receive some extended relatives.”
“Oh, no,” Colin groaned, still laughing.
Ginny marched into the room with a superior look on her face. “Cousin Margaret,” she sniffed haughtily.
Bitty followed, mask on. “Cousin Viola.”
Freddie pounded in with a limp. “Uncle Archibald,” he boomed.
Rosie shook her head, grinning helplessly. “And Aunt Gertrude.” She turned to Rafe and Matthew. “Boys!” she chirped. “Come give us a kiss, we have come for Christmas!”
“No!” they shouted in perfect unison.
The adults were beside themselves now, some wiping at their eyes.
“Come, come, nephews,” Freddie announced in a deep voice as he dropped his bag and moved across their makeshift stage to the log Mrs. Donovan had promised them. “You see over here? This is our Yule log! We must anoint it for good luck in the new year!”
Rafe and
Matthew looked at the unimpressive log, then at each other, and then stuck out their tongues and spat on it.
Rosie clapped a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing.
“That’ll do it!” Freddie said, feigning lighting the log on fire.
“I’ve got the Yule candle!” Bitty simpered, trotting over. “The head of the house must light it! Who is that?”
The boys looked at each other, then pointed at Livvy.
Laughter rang out, and Bitty proceeded with her candle lighting ceremony.
Then Ginny pulled out some holly. “I have brought holly! And… a Christmas goat!”
A what?
Rosie looked at her sharply, half expecting to see Humphrey somehow returned to them. A quick glance at the adults told her they had the same fears.
But no goat appeared.
“Freddie!” Ginny hissed.
He glared at her, removed his hat, and got down on all fours. “Baa,” he said lamely.
Ginny looked disapproving. “I said a goat, not a sheep.”
Freddie shook his head, then made a decent impression of bleating.
Encouraged, Rafe and Matthew jumped onto Freddie’s back and proceeded to ride the Christmas goat.
Well, Rosie had said it would be a Gerrard family Christmas, and here it was. “Now,” she said with a brisk clap of her hands, back into character, “who wants to help decorate this place for Christmas?”
She picked up the evergreen bough, setting it on the mantle, then frowning dramatically when it wouldn’t stay. Rafe and Matthew picked it up and tried to hang it in at least seven places while Livvy chased after them every time.
“It needs a bow!” she shouted after them. “It must have a bow!”
No longer the goat, Freddie rose and donned his hat once more. “What about presents?” he said, striding over to his sack. “We must have presents! Lots and lots of presents!”
“Not that many,” Colin laughed.
“Surprise!” Rafe and Matthew said together pulling out their small toy swords and running to the presents Freddie was pulling out.
Yes, indeed, this was a very Gerrard Christmas.
Not too difficult to improvise.
“I hope Aunt Gertrude has a present!” Rosie wailed, going over to the satchel and digging through it eagerly with the others.
The applause was effusive, the cheers exuberant, and the cast giggled uncontrollably throughout their four curtain calls.
But really, they deserved every second of the adulation.
It had been a show to remember.
Which was ironic, as Rosie really couldn’t remember much of what they had said.
All she knew was that it had been utter chaos, filled with moments of spectacular hilarity, and everyone had loved it.
“Bravo!” Colin cheered, still standing. “Bravo!”
Kit grinned, shaking his head. “That was absolutely perfect. Did you write that out?”
Rosie shook her head quickly. “We decided it might be better to improvise. We found a massive amount of costumes, and made it up as we went.”
He nodded, looking over at Rafe and Matthew, still wearing their costumes. “I had forgotten all about those.”
Bitty and Ginny were still taking bows, giggling to themselves as they did so.
“Ginny,” Marianne suddenly broke in, “what happened to your hair?”
The applause stopped and everyone looked at Ginny.
She met Marianne’s gaze and tilted her head. “What do you mean, what happened to it?”
Marianne didn’t answer right away, her eyes darting across Ginny’s now unbound hair. She slowly got up and came closer. “I mean,” she said slowly, “what happened to your hair?” She reached out and pulled a lock of hair from over each shoulder, and showed the obvious difference.
Ginny looked at her hair, then over at Rosie, a question in her eyes.
Marianne started to move around her, and gasped when she saw another spot. “And here?”
Rosie winced but tried to hide it. That would be the second time they got hair from Ginny, and she had been just as haphazard with the shears that time.
“What’s this?” Colin asked, coming over to look at her hair. “Oh, good lord.”
Marianne moved to Bitty’s hair, looking carefully. “Bitty! What have you done?”
Susannah was now part of the mix and inspecting the hair. “Is Livvy’s hair cut, too?” she asked sharply, looking at her daughter.
“No!” Bitty said at once. “No, it’s just us!”
Kit folded his arms, looking like the disapproving head of the family he was. “Just us what?”
Bitty bit down on her lip and looked at her. “Rosie…?”
Well, there went that surprise.
Rosie sighed and shook her head. “We cut locks of our hair.”
Colin and Kit looked at each other in horror, then at Rosie. “Why?” Kit demanded at once.
“Whom did you send them to?” Colin barked.
Rosie looked at them in confusion. “Send? No one, why would I send my hair somewhere?”
That seemed to satisfy Colin, but he still looked disgruntled.
“I like it,” Ginny announced, plucking her hair from Susannah’s grasp.
Susannah made an odd groaning sound that she probably made quite often, as she dealt with Colin more than anyone else, and covered her eyes with one hand.
“Why would you do this, Rosie?” Kit asked, still looking irritated.
Rosie stared at him for a long moment, then reached into her pocket and drew out the jewelry. “Because I wanted to make presents for you all.”
The adults stood in shock and stared at the items in her hand.
“Is that…?” Marianne asked, a hand going to her throat.
“I think so,” Susannah replied weakly.
Colin wrinkled up his nose. “What is it?”
Rosie’s heart snapped in two.
Kit picked up a hair covered ring and looked at it closely. “It’s a ring, Colin.”
“With their hair in it?” he asked.
“In. Around. On.” Kit turned it over in his hand carefully, his distaste evident.
Susannah reached out and picked up one of the lockets, hooking the chain just barely around one of her fingers.
They hadn’t been able to get the lockets to close completely with the hair inside, so a few strands stuck out at odd angles between the sides and around the clasp.
“It’s… it’s…” she stammered, trying to find the words.
“Don’t worry about it,” Rosie snapped, her hand closing around the remaining objects. “You don’t have to take them. I just thought you might like a reminder of us with you all the time.”
“It’s a lovely thought,” Marianne tried to soothe, her hand still at her throat. “But…”
Colin shook his head. “Rosie, this isn’t something you do yourself.”
Rosie snorted and rolled her eyes in response. “Obviously, or else it looks like that. I figured that out half an hour ago when we were trying to make them. Excuse me for not knowing the proper way to make personalized jewelry with locks of hair.”
Colin’s brow furrowed and he held up a finger. “Now you wait one minute, young lady.”
“Rosie,” Kit interjected, glowering, “you should never have cut your own hair or your sisters’ without permission.”
“Permission?” she asked with a laugh. “To cut a lock of my own hair? To ask Bitty and Ginny do the same to their hair? Because I asked, Kit. I didn’t force anyone.”
“You tried to,” Ginny reminded her, intent on being unhelpful. “I gave in, though.”
“What?” Colin cried, looking back at Rosie. “Why would you try to force her?”
“Because you hated all the other presents we tried!” Bitty interjected, coming to Rosie’s defense. “We didn’t even know we were supposed to do presents until you started talking about Christmas and Advent, and we wanted to be part of Christmas so we could sti
ll be part of the family even though there are babies now!”
Colin looked as though he had been slapped, and looked at Kit for help.
“We’ve been trying to go along with your Christmas plans,” Rosie said bitterly, shocked that tears were forming, “but we never had one, and we don’t know how to do it. And you two have been pummeling us with Christmas things for days on end without us actually enjoying a single moment of it! I didn’t even want to come to Yorkshire with everyone, I wanted to go back to school because it was more enjoyable than this mess!”
“Rosie,” Susannah tried, looking near to tears herself.
“I’ve been trying,” Rosie overrode. “We’ve all been trying to live up to your expectations for Christmas, not because we know anything about Christmas, but because we want to matter to this family. Bitty tried to make a pudding, because she knows you love pudding. Does Bitty know how to make pudding?”
“No,” Bitty said insistently, sniffing back tears, “but I tried.”
“Ginny wanted to get you a goat because she thought you would find it amusing,” Rosie continued, her hands forming fists. “Maybe misguided, but she thought it would be something the family could do.”
“And you gave him back!” Ginny insisted, glaring at them.
“Temporarily,” at least four people said.
Rosie felt her lip quivering and bit it. “And I thought I could give you something to remind you of us. So you don’t forget us.”
“We wouldn’t,” Colin stammered.
“Rosie,” Marianne whimpered.
Rosie shook her head. “I don’t even know what Christmas is about because of all the noise and fuss you’ve put on. And most of those plans failed and went completely wrong. You don’t know how to do Christmas either, so don’t scold me for not knowing! And when we asked if we could go to church to maybe do one thing that a real family does at Christmas, you panicked about it!”
“We did not,” her brothers said together.
“What does a real family look like?” Rosie demanded. “What does a real Christmas look like? Because if this is it, I don’t want it.” She threw the jewelry she still clutched into a far corner of the room, where it clattered loudly.
“I don’t want a Christmas without carolers!” Bitty insisted, folding her arms tightly. “Kit said there would be carolers, and there are no carolers!”
A Gerrard Family Christmas (Arrangements, Book 8) Page 21