"She's out here because she's a ninnyhammer," Ned said, "and, besides, she doesn't want to leave you alone with Nicholas."
Anthea's head jerked up, then she felt herself blush. "That's ridiculous! There's nothing at all between Ryven and me. Furthermore, I certainly wouldn't be alone with him. You and Dickon would be more than adequate chaperones. Besides," she added, trying to change the subject, "didn't I tell you to call him by his style?"
"Yes, you did." Ned stopped forming his snowball and sat down beside the pile he had made. "Do you still like him—Nicholas, I mean? It's important that I know."
Anthea refused to look at him, concentrating instead on making her snowball perfectly round in her mittened hand. "Of course I like Ryven, Ned. I like Dickon very much, too."
"But would you like to marry him—Nicholas I mean, not Dickon, of course. I should like Nicholas for a brother/'
"That's not a possibility," Anthea said shortly. "Get busy making snowballs. Dickon seems to have a huge pile of them." She gathered up an armload of snow and dumped it in Ned's lap. Ned laughed and threw some snow back at her. They wasted several snowballs throwing them at each other while Ryven and Dickon yelled encouragement at one or the other. Finally they called a truce so they could replenish their snowball pile. "I had hoped," Ryven called out, "that you'd use all your snowballs and be forced to surrender your snow fort."
"Unfortunately for you, we have plenty of raw material," Anthea said, laughing.
"Nicky," Miss Darcy said, pouting, "I'm cold." She was ignored as everyone else went back to work. "I think I'll go in," she said plaintively, shoving her hands up to the elbows into the muff.
"You should do that," Ryven said with a smile. "I'm sure you need to get warm."
"Would you mind helping me?" Miss Darcy's voice was small and weak. "I'm so afraid I'll fall in this terrible snow."
Ryven dusted off his mittens and took Miss Darcy's elbow. "While you're inside," Anthea called out, not looking up from her work, "could you ask that hot chocolate and cakes be put out? We'll be in as soon as we finish."
"I'll be back to help you, Dickon," Ryven said, lifting Miss Darcy as she faltered. They made their way through the snow, Miss Darcy periodically sagging against Ryven so that he almost carried her the last part of the way. Dickon and Ned looked at each other, grimaced, then nodded knowingly.
Ryven returned and in a short while, the snow forts were finished. The group decided to go inside for the promised chocolate and cakes, then return in midafternoon for the big snow battle. They all went inside, shaking snow from their clothes, and went on into the drawing room where a good fire was blazing. Miss Darcy was in front of the fire, a
blanket around her shoulders. Her nose was very red. Lady Lynden and Mrs. Darcy flanked the fireplace, Lady Lynden engaged in her embroidery, Mrs. Darcy engaged in stuffing Puffy with bits of cake.
"I did not realize," Mrs. Darcy said pointedly, "that young ladies built snow forts and gamboled out of doors in the weather. It will ruin your complexion, my dear."
Anthea pulled off her mittens and put them on the hearth to dry. Standing up, she glanced at herself in the mirror above the mantel. True, her face was pink, but her eyes sparkled.
"I think Annie looks just fine," Dickon said. "Annie, do you want to go with us to see Bertram?"
"Pd love to, but 111 do that later," she said. "Right now the two of you get upstairs and take off those wet clothes. PH send you up some chocolate." ,
"And cakes?" Ned asked, hope in his voice.
"Yes, cakes, too. Now go on." She put her hands on their shoulders and propelled them out the door.
"They've dripped all over," Miss Darcy said disapprovingly. "They should have been sent straight upstairs." She turned to Ryven with her prettiest pout. "And as for you, I need to take you to task, sir, for deserting me. I insist you stay indoors this afternoon and play cards with Mama and me."
"A splendid idea," Lady Lynden said before Ryven could protest. "PU play with you so we can make four. Anthea really doesn't care for cards."
"A wise choice," Ryven commented, stretching out his hands to the fire. He looked rather glum, and Anthea remembered that Ryven had never cared for card games. Gambling on a boxing match or a horse race was one thing, but he had always berated card games as an insipid waste of time.
"Then it's settled," Mrs. Darcy said. "Anyone sane would much prefer a good game of cards to that weather."
Ryven turned and leaned against the mantel. "I wish I could oblige you, but I promised Dickon and Ned to join in
their snowball fight this afternoon."
Miss Darcy looked at him critically and tossed her blond curls. "Really, Nicky, how ridiculous. A promise to a child doesn't count. The boys can play their little games by themselves." She glanced at Anthea. "I'm sure Miss Thorne will be available to play with them."
Ryven answered before Anthea could say anything. "She'll be there, I'm sure, and so will I, Judith." Ryven's voice was hard. "I try never to break a promise to anyone and would never break a promise to Dickon. I'll join you for a game or two of cards, but my midafternoon belongs to Dickon." He smiled briefly to take the edge off his words. "Now if you'll excuse me, I need to change these wet clothes." He sketched a small bow and left.
"Well, I've never!" Mrs. Darcy gasped. "Such rudeness!"
"True, but understandable when you realize how attached Ryven is to Dickon," Lady Lynden observed mildly. "Do you know the story?" She paused a moment, then, at Mrs. Darcy's blank look, continued. "Their mother died when Dickon was born and poor Grenfell was so devastated he couldn't really be a father. He wouldn't even look at Dickon for two or three years, even going so far as moving to London and refusing to return to Morven. It was left to Ryven, a mere stripling at the time, to be both father and mother to Dickon. As a result, he's always been very protective of Dickon, even after Grenfell remarried."
There was a small silence, then Miss Darcy spoke. "Such an attitude toward a child is still ridiculous," she said, shaking her head. "Nicky's going to have to forget all that. What Dickon needs is a good boarding school. After Nicky and I are married, I certainly don't intend to devote my entire life to children."
"A very wise attitude," Lady Lynden said absently, reaching for her basket of wools. "Anthea, dear, do you realize your boots are dripping?"
Anthea went upstairs to change. Parrish was there with hot bricks for her feet and warm, dry clothes. "Put my clothes where they'll dry, Parrish. I promised to go back out
this afternoon."
"I know, Miss Thorne. Master Ned told me to make sure you looked better than you did this morning." Parrish chuckled. "I told him it was hard to gild the lily."
Anthea laughed but did go to her mirror and take a long look at herself. She looked well enough, but she would never have the town bronze of a Judith Darcy. Still, perhaps it was time to quit being the country miss and get out. Maybe she would go visit Margaret in London after all.
The afternoon snowball battle was fierce, three against two even though everyone tried to convince Miss Darcy not to come out. She was determined to come outside and even took a quilt on which to sit. In the spirit of things, she borrowed a pair of mittens and threw a few snowballs, although they all seemed to land in the bushes to the left of Anthea and Ned's snow fort. However, just as Anthea thought all was well, Miss Darcy almost had a fit of hysterics when both Anthea and Ned hit her squarely on the head when she looked over the top of hei^snow fort. They had to call a halt to the snow battle until Ryven could wipe the snow from Miss Darcy's head and convince her to calm herself. "You did that on purpose," she said finally, glaring at Anthea with dislike. "I know you did."
"Of course she did," Ryven said cheerfully. "That's the object of a snowball battle. Would you like to go inside now?"
"No," Miss Darcy snapped. "Never."
After dozens of snowballs and much ado, the snowball battle was declared a draw and everyone went back indoors, agreeing to meet and fight agai
n another day. Ned and Dickon were in high spirits, although Miss Darcy was quite obviously drooping.
That night after supper, Anthea slipped off to the nursery to say good night to the boys. They were there in the dark, looking out and showing Bertram the moon and stars shining in the cold, clear sky. "We're talking about our yuletide wishes," Ned said to her, whispering in the dark.
"Ah, Ned, you shouldn't do that. Remember that your yuletide wish isn't supposed to be told until Christmas Eve," Anthea said, her voice sounding unnaturally loud in the dark, still room.
"And just what is a yuletide wish?" Ryven asked, coming into the room, the doorway a rectangle of light behind him.
Anthea turned to look at the shadow filling the room. For a moment, he looked larger than he was. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"I saw you slipping up the stairs and decided you and these two were probably up to no good, so I followed."
She smiled at the laughter in his voice. "It appears you were wrong this time."
"I've been wrong before. I apologize." He hesitated as though he wished to say something else, then gave a slight shrug of his shoulders and came over to stand at the window with them. "Now tell me about yuletide wishes."
"Yuletide wishes are always supposed to come true," Dickon said, "or at least that's what Ned says."
"Always?" Nicholas ruffled Dickon's hair with his fingers, then put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "I didn't know there were wishes that always came true."
"Do they? Always?" Dickon asked, peering around Nicholas to look at Ned.
Anthea chuckled. "No, not always." She found herself whispering because it seemed to be the way to speak in the dark. For a second, she tried to speak in a normal tone, but it seemed too loud in the night. "A yuletide wish is supposed to be something you want to happen to you during the next year, but it's also supposed to be something you're willing to make happen. You just can't sit around and wait for whatever it is."
"I see. It's the same way I wished for a pet, but instead of just waiting around, I told Nicholas, and he got me one." Dickon frowned as he thought about it.
"Sort of." Anthea and Nicholas exchanged smiles. "I suppose that would be doing something about your wish. Usually, though, you're supposed to work in
some way to make it happen."
Dickon turned around and looked at them. "Can anyone make a yuletide wish, and does it have to be done at a special time?"
"It's time now, isn't it, Anthea?" Ned asked. "You always told me that I needed to wish on the moon and then I get to tell you about my wish on Christmas Eve."
Nicholas put his other hand on Ned's shoulder. "I have a question about this —does your wish come true at Christmas Eve when you tell it?"
"Not always," Anthea admitted. "Sometimes you need to work on it all year, then it's supposed to have come true by the next Christmas.
"Could we make wishes now?" Dickon asked. "The moon looks fine to me tonight."
Anthea peered out into the sky. "I don't see why not, but remember, you have to be careful about your wish—it must be something you're willing to work at, and perhaps wait on, all year."
. Dickpn grabbed Ned's hand. "I think we need to talk about this." They went outside the door, and Ryven and Anthea could hear them whispering excitedly.
Ryven glanced out the window again. "I've never heard of yuletide wishes. Tell me, Anthea, is this a custom passed down from generation to generation?"
She laughed. "Do you promise you won't tell on me?" At his nod, she continued. "Once when Ned was younger, Mama and Papa were in Portugal, and he wanted them to come home and he also wanted a pony. I convinced him to make a yuletide wish, knowing that Mama and Papa would be home by March and that I could manage to get him a pony by summer. I concocted the whole thing to see him through that Christmas, but I haven't had the heart to tell him any differently. Since that time, every year he looks forward to making his yuletide wish."
He moved close to her, so close she was acutely aware of him—the smell of him, the slightly rough texture of his coat sleeve against her bare arm, the touch of tenseness she felt
whenever he was around. "I think it's quite wonderful that you should care enough about him to create yuletide wishes."
Anthea fought down the impulse to move away from him. Instead, she concentrated on looking at the stars outside. "I meant only for it to see him through that one Christmas, but it's become something of a Christmas tradition at Thornedene. I'd have to say it's worked out well — every year Ned makes a wish, then works all year for something he wants."
"And you? Do you ever make yuletide wishes?"
"Of course. Doesn't everyone?" She laughed and turned to look up at him. It was a mistake.
He moved even closer, put his hand on her arm, and Anthea trembled with the effort of standing still. "Anthea," he whispered huskily, "there's something I need—" He was interrupted by Ned and Dickon rushing into the room. "We're ready to make our yuletide wishes," Ned announced.
Anthea was almost giddy with relief. She stepped back away from Nicholas, drew Ned to her, and put her arm around his shoulder. "Are you ready right now?"
Ned nodded. "Dickon and I have discussed something, and we'd like to wish together. That's all right, isn't it?"
"Of course," Anthea told him, moving to stand behind him. He and Dickon stood by Bertram's cage and looked out at the moon. Anthea could see their lips moving as they whispered their wishes to themselves, both of them frowning with concentration. They held hands as they wished. "There," Dickon said, taking a breath. He and Ned looked at each other with satisfaction.
"I'd like to make a yuletide wish too," Nicholas said, "but I don't know about telling it at Christmas Eve. Is that a necessary part of yuletide wishes?"
Ned looked at Anthea with a question. She thought for a moment, then smiled at Nicholas. It was easier with some distance between them. "I think telling it would be entirely up to you. Ned and I find that sharing our wishes makes us work harder to make them come true, but I wouldn't think
you'd have to tell if you didn't want to."
"Oh, I intend to work quite hard on mine," Nicholas said with a chuckle. "Ned, Dickon, tell me how to do this."
"Annie, why don't you make your wish now, too?" Ned said to Anthea. Before she could protest, Nicholas had clasped her hand in his. "A good idea. Let's wish together." He smiled at her. Anthea looked at the moon and the edges of it blurred as tears filled her eyes. Nicholas was probably wishing that Miss Darcy would accept his offer while her wish ... a wish came involuntarily to her mind, but she dismissed it. . . her wish was going to be to try to survive until Nicholas and the Darcys would leave. "Please, please help me get through this," she wished to the moon.
"There," Nicholas said, looking down at her. "Did you wish?" She nodded and pulled her hand from his. One way to get through this was to keep as far away from Nicholas as possible. Her wish was already working. "I need to go help Mama entertain Mrs. Darcy," she said. "You two boys get ready-for bed."
"I'll stay a few minutes and make sure they do," Nicholas said. "Will you play and sing when I get downstairs?"
"I think Miss Darcy is planning to sing," Anthea said hastily and hurried from the room. Thank goodness for the dark so Nicholas couldn't see her expression until she composed herself. With any luck, she could get down to the drawing room and be involved in a card game with Mrs. Darcy before Nicholas got out of the nursery.
For the next few days Anthea worked hard to make her Yuletide wish come true. She was careful never to be alone with Nicholas; she made suggestions to ensure that Nicholas and Miss Darcy were always together; and she spent as much time away from them as she could without seeming inhospitable. Unfortunately, Nicholas seemed intent on spending as much time with Dickon, Ned, and Anthea as possible. There was no escaping his presence.
Most of Anthea's time seemed to be taken up by Ned, Dickon, and Bertram. Dickon she loved —he was almost a copy of Nicholas —and Bertram
turned out to be a mouse
with quite a personality. All in all, considering Nicholas was in the house, Anthea was as content as she could be.
Miss Darcy, however, was another story. Anthea was afraid the silly chit would completely alienate Nicholas. No matter what Nicholas, Anthea, and the boys did, Miss Darcy whined and complained. She didn't like to repair snow forts, she didn't like to make snow angels, she didn't like to have treasure searches, she didn't like to play any games at all, and, most particularly, she didn't like Bertram. She even went so far as to suggest that the best use for poor Bertram would be as a between-meal snack for Puffy. Ned and Dickon were horrified. It took Anthea the better part of an hour to calm them and assure them that Bertram would be quite safe as long as he was at Thornedene.
"I hate her," Dickon said fiercely, "and she doesn't like me either."
"I'm sure she likes you," Anthea said, "and, Dickon, you really shouldn't hate anyone. Give Miss Darcy a chance, and I'm sure you'll find she's really . . ." Anthea faltered. There was nothing she could find to praise in Miss Darcy. "Perhaps Miss Darcy has never had a pet and doesnt understand your feelings for Bertram," she finally said.
"She doesn't understand anyone's feelings," Dickon said with heat. "Even Nicholas thinks—"
"Dickon!" Ned interrupted with a warning look.
The two boys looked at each other and nodded. "Would you like to go ice skating, Annie?" Ned said, changing the subject almost too casually. "Chatwin says the ice on the pond's just right."
"I'd love that," Anthea said, "but first, I want to know what's going on with you two."
They looked up at her, their faces as innocent as those of two cherubs. "Annie," Ned said, "I'm really surprised at you. We just wanted to ask you to go with us. You don't have to if you don't want to. You're the one who's always telling me not to go to the pond to swim or skate unless I take someone grown-up with me." He paused. "If you don't want to go, we can ask Chatwin."
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