A Drakenfall Christmas: A Novel

by Geralyn Corcillo

  “Jamie!”

  “You wanted to needle them, right?”

  “Yes! So why didn't you let me read Bambi to them?”

  “You mean the part about not saying anything at all?”

  She looked at him and bit down on a smile. “Yeah.”

  “You were after the Felix Salten book,” he said in conspiratorial hush. “Thumper's not in it.”

  “The movie's different from the novel?”

  Jamie huffed out a laugh. “A bit.”

  She cocked a brow. “So you saved me from having egg on my face?”

  He shrugged.

  Lea sighed. “No Flower in the novel, either?”

  Jamie smiled. “Afraid not.”

  “Good morning,” hailed Mark, coming around the corner, carrying a giant pot of poinsettias. “Having a nice day?”

  “Mmm,” affirmed Lea. “Quite a library you've got.”

  “Need a hand?” Jamie asked.

  “Ta, but I'm good. What are you up to today?”

  “I'm off riding.”

  “Excellent day for it.” He set down the plant in the hall near the newel post and adjusted it this way and that. “A nice, bracing ride.”

  Jamie turned to Lea, who was rolling her eyes. “Coming?” he asked. “Last chance.”

  “Not on your life,” she laughed, and headed up the stairs.

  Lea retreated to her Honeysuckle Room and walked to the window where she could enjoy the winter fairy land stretching out below her from the comfort of her warm perch.

  Oh, what did Jamie want with her? Why had he brought her to this place?

  She had to know. His not just coming out and stating his business was wearing on her nerves. Was he being cagey with purpose? Keeping her off kilter for nefarious reasons of his own?

  Then it struck her. He'd chosen to go riding today—alone—no matter how welcoming his invitations had seemed. He'd wanted her to refuse. To delay their business even longer.

  Lea sucked in a breath. “Bastard!”

  She dove into her luggage, found her pair of sturdy winter boots, put them on, laced them up, then fled from the room. Ten minutes later she was in the stables, and young Phineas was boosting her up on Caramel, her mount for the morning. She knew that Phineas could see from her seat and her hold on the horse that she knew what she was doing, and he let her go. As she tore out into the snow, the wind whipped at her face.

  But the scream of frustration that bubbled up in her throat turned into a laugh as it left her mouth. Why not thrill to the frigid insanity of it all? When in Rome, right? Lea pressed her knees into Caramel's sides and sped up. The crisp air snapping against her flushed skin created a delicious contrast that made her feel pulsing with life. She headed off in the direction she'd seen Jamie take across the fields.

  Ten minutes later, along a line of grand pines, she found him.

  “Lea!”

  But his irrepressible grin disconcerted her and she had to steady herself on Caramel. Perhaps he hadn't wilfully shirked her company for the day.

  Their mounts stepped toward one another, stopping side by side in the shade of a towering Cotswold Pine.

  “Lea,” he said, still smiling. “I'm so glad you joined me. Or, uh … that you decided to ride.”

  “No, you were right the first time. I was looking for you.”

  His eyebrows shot up and his eyes opened wider. “Really?” His lips curved into a hesitant smile.

  “Really,” she assured him. “You don't have to look so surprised. You did invite me.”

  “What made you change your mind?”

  Lea tipped her head, considering him. “I saw you from my window,” she confessed. “Riding off in the snow. You looked so adventurous and carefree. So different and … un-you. I figured I'd come out to see what the great attraction was.”

  Jamie was laughing. “Riding makes me un-me? Lea, you've barely ever seen me. At all. How could you possibly know if riding when I get the chance is out of character for me?”

  She levelled him with a look.

  “What?” he asked.

  “Come on,” she said. “You grew up poor. Now you punch the clock in a nondescript government building, where you help low income families do their taxes and get food stamps.”

  “Yeah ...”

  “Well,” she said. “It's hardly … adventurous. Or colourful. Or exciting. Day in. Day out.”

  Jamie looked at her, square in the face.“Is that what you think of me? Boring? Rote? Unimaginative?”

  And he sounded more stern than Lea could remember ever hearing him.

  “So I just fill in forms for the government like an automaton?” he demanded. “No daring, resourcefulness, or ingenuity involved? Right, because any dolt can help a family of six stretch a meagre check across a month for as many months as Dad is in Afghanistan. And when schools cut after-school programs, any office drone can help decide what safe, affordable alternatives will keep the kids off the streets. And when the bank says no, any clock watcher can figure out where the money's going to come from. And when someone with no insurance ends up in hospital—”

  “Okay, okay. I get it.”

  “Do you? Do you have any idea how hard people on the front lines helping alleviate poverty work?”

  “If you don't like it, get a different job.”

  “I LIKE my job.”

  “Then don't complain.”

  “I'm not complaining. I'm just making the point that you shouldn't dismiss someone's vocation just because they don't get paid a lot and they work in a shoddy building at the crap end of town. Because you know what? People live there, too. At the crap end of town.”

  Lea backed up a bit with Caramel and forced a laugh. “I think you're getting more vehement than the situation warrants.”

  “Lea! You want to sell the Champlain building to a tyre factory!”

  She tightened her hold on Caramel's reins. “So NOW you want to talk? Fine! You saw how much they're offering.”

  “Lea! People live in that neighbourhood. And you want to put a foul, stinking tyre factory right there.”

  “The zoning for it is legal.”

  “Just because a politician and a developer made a back room deal to make industrializing that neighbourhood possible does not make it RIGHT.”

  Lea sighed. “This is not about right and wrong.”

  “Lea, everything is about right and wrong, whether you want to acknowledge that or not. You can say that you're not doing it to destroy lives, but you'll destroy them, all the same.”

  “The people in Grant Street can move if they don't like it.”

  “Yeah, and let them eat cake, while they're at it.”

  Lea gasped. “That's not fair.”

  “No kidding.” Jamie nodded, an uncharacteristically cynical twist to his lips.“Look, Drakenfall is vast. I'm sure we can both ride to our hearts' content without getting under each other's feet. Have a good ride, Lea.”

  And with that, Jamie rode off.

  Lea looked after him, disappearing around a curve of brush.

  Jamie left her in the snow. He thought she was a horrible, petty person.

  Lea sighed. She was, wasn't she? Only not for the reasons Jamie thought. Should she set him straight, so that he thought ill of her for the right reasons? Or should she let it be, and salvage some scrap of dignity?

  Lea shivered. She best ride on, making the most of the day.

  Chapter 17: Jingle Bells

  Glynis heard the jingle bells outside the kitchen before she saw any sign of the sleigh in the dooryard. She pulled on her gloves and she was ready, stepping outside just as the sleigh pulled up.

  “Mr. Fletcher!”

  He looked over from where he sat on the driver's seat. “Yes, Ms. Ferry. I have to say, I do seem to have a startling effect on you.”

  “I … I ...”

  “You did ask me if you could take the sleigh into town for supplies?”

  “Well, yes. But you're in charge of the stable
s. I imagined you would be too busy to simply taxi around groceries.”

  Shaun Fletcher hopped down and walked around the sled until he was standing in front of Glynis. He held out his hand to help her climb onto the bench seat. “I am also ferrying the woman who keeps Drakenfall running.”

  Glynis could feel herself blush at that. “Thank you,” she said quietly, taking his hand and climbing up. Fletcher walked back to the other side and climbed onto the seat next to her, taking up the reins. He turned to look at her, giving her a wry smile. “And even if it were just a grocery pick up minus the irreplaceable Glynis Ferry, there is no task at Drakenfall beneath me. Or anyone. You know that.” He took a heavy blanket from under the bench. “Drape this across your lap,” he offered.

  “What about your lap?”

  “What about my lap?”

  Glynis could feel her cheeks heating up again. She cleared her throat. “Doesn't your lap get cold?”

  He slid her a sidelong glance with a quirk of a smile. “You can toss me a corner of the rug.”

  Glynis tucked the wool blanket around her legs then tossed the rest across his lap.

  “Snug enough?” he asked.

  “Yes,” Glynis answered briskly. “And you?”

  “Fine. I work outside a good deal more than you do.”

  Glynis sat up straight and looked resolutely ahead. “So you don't feel the chill?”

  “Oh, I feel it, all right.” With a click of his tongue, Shaun got the horses going and the sleigh pulled away from the house.

  “Hmmm,” Glynis mused. “I understand the charm of the jingle bells for the guests,” she said. “But for a trip into Tippingstock? Are they necessary?”

  “Oh, yes. This sleigh can be all but silent, and that can be dangerous. We have to announce our presence.”

  And so Glynis and Shaun jingled their way across the backfields of Drakenfall, headed toward the village.

  Suddenly, Glynis spoke up. “What are those two up to now, I wonder?” Her words came out before she gave pause to consider them, a decided rarity for her.

  Fletcher looked in the direction that Glynis was leaning, just in time to spy Maisy and Kafi dashing into the yew copse behind the estate cottages.

  Fletcher raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean, 'now'?”

  “Oh, I—“ But she interrupted herself and stopped speaking.

  “Don't want to be telling tales, do you?” He shook his head. “And that's what you think of me? A common gossip. And about Lady Shiley, no less.”

  Glynis said nothing but kept her chin high and her eyes forward.

  “You must see a lot in that house,” Fletcher said on a soft laugh. “And I suspect you know everything that goes on. Like a ghost in the walls.”

  “A ghost in the walls?” she yelped, turning toward him. “What makes you say that? Just yesterday you said I wasn't a crone. And now you've got me dead and buried and rattling my chains through the corridors!”

  “I didn't mean it that way.”

  “What kind of ghost isn't dead?”

  “Sometimes it's just … metaphor.”

  “Metaphor? So you're comparing me to someone dead? To a ghoul?”

  “But with the use of 'like' or 'as,' mind you.”

  After a a beat and a half of hooves, he could not hold it in any longer and he began laughing. And so did she.

  “And there's nothing particularly ghoulish about Casper,” he added.

  “Okay,” Glynis conceded. “And I do see a lot at Drakenfall. And I know a lot. But I keep it all to myself.”

  “What must that be like, having all those secrets? Secrets of love, passion, betrayal. Yet you keep it all bottled in.”

  At that, Glynis threw back her head and really laughed. “Mr. Fletcher, you are a hoot! The secrets I keep most often revolve around who absconded with the cake from the larder and where's the waylaid pile of linens.”

  “See?” he asked. “Didn't it feel good to get that off your chest?”

  “Oh, Mr. Fletcher,” Glynis said again, and this time she gave him a playful nudge with her elbow.

  And he nudged her back.

  Glynis touched her chignon. What was she doing? Just because she was beyond the grounds of Drakenfall, she had no excuse for conducting herself like a perfect ninny.

  She swallowed her laughter and tightened her gloves, finger by finger.

  As Glynis watched the snow-frosted countryside glide by, she realized how silly she'd been to think that Mr. Shaun Fletcher might be the one for her. There was no bond or connection or chemistry between them. After all, they were tucked together, riding through a snowy landscape in a horse-drawn sleigh. A romantic set up, if ever there was one. Yet the journey was no more than companionable and uneventful. Glynis's cheeks were not flushed nor did her heart race. Well, her cheeks felt ruddy, sure enough, but that was from the cold. And her heart beat fast and her blood pumped with a thrill, but that was the expected effect from being pulled along by horses stomping through the snow on a brisk day. Glynis was feeling the very visceral impressions of winter in The Cotswolds. Mr. Shaun Fletcher had nothing to do with it.

  “Oh!” Glynis cried, suddenly finding herself pitching sideways. Mr. Shaun Fletcher crouched quickly to catch her by the shoulder.

  Wait. Why did he have to crouch? And where was she? She was no longer surrounded by snowy fields. They were in High Street in Tippingstock.

  Glynis looked at him, trying to make sense of what had happened.

  “So sorry, Ms. Ferry. You must have nodded off. We stopped and when I stood up, you fell over.”

  “Fell over? You mean … you mean … I was leaning on you?”

  “Well, if you were, I didn't notice, ma'am. I'm sure you just felt jarred by the change in motion when we stopped.”

  Didn't notice? Glynis was draped across the man, apparently, and he didn't notice?

  Mr. Shaun Fletcher hopped down from the sled and held aloft his hand to help her down.

  “I think I'll get out on this side, thank you.” Glynis slid back to her own side of the seat and stood to hop down. But when she did, Shaun Fletcher was there, ready to lend her a hand as she stepped into the snow. Glynis cast a glance around and noticed more than a few people watching the strange little party from Drakenfall.

  “Well,” said Mr. Shaun Fletcher, holding himself upright with deference. “Unless you need my help, I'll stay with the horses. Perhaps give some rides to some local kiddies.”

  “Very good,” Glynis said, knowing how Maisy and Mark liked to spread Drakenfall cheer all about the village. He had things well in hand, so she need think of him no further. She decided to forget all about Mr. Shaun Fletcher as she went into the cheese shop.

  Chapter 18: Caught in a Trap

  “Hurry, Miss!”

  Kafi stood peeking out the door of the cavernous tool shed, antsy and jittery as he kept a lookout.

  “Kafi, I'll go faster if you stop freaking me out!”

  “We have to get those cats! Without anyone finding out. Oh, Lord. Pippa is going to KILL me.”

  Maisy dove more diligently into a stack of boxes and tools. “And right she should. Both of us! Gosh, I hope the cats are okay. What was I thinking? Breaking into her flat? If it were me, I'd just be creeped out if someone broke into my living space. For any reason. Why didn't I see that sooner?”

  “I know,” Kafi agreed. “The whole magic elf idea was too stupid. I don't know what came over me.”

  But even as she worried, Maisy smiled, for she knew precisely what had come over him. A crush on a girl who he thought never even looked at him … and a boss who'd encouraged him wholeheartedly in a decidedly ill-advised caper. Lord on high, it was as if both of them had been under some kind of spell.

  “Found them!”

  Kafi ran from his post at the door and helped Maisy extricate the long boxes from the pile.

  “You sure these traps won't hurt them?”

  Maisy slid the first one out of the box. “See? It's ju
st a long, low cage. We set the trap with the door open and we put food way in the back. The cat walks into the long cage, steps on the trip in the middle, and closes itself in the trap. Voila. We'll get them both safely caged so we can return them to Pippa.”

  “Why do we even have these? Did there used to be cats at Drakenfall?”

  “Not that I know of. If a pesky animal is getting into something it shouldn't, like the horse feed, we can remove it easily enough without hurting it.” Maisy slung the tote with the supplies for setting the traps over her shoulder, then she draped the first trap with a heavy dark shawl. “You do this to the other one,” she said, handing him another shawl. “Cats like crawling into dark spaces, and they freak less when trapped if they're covered. Make sure it covers the sides.”

  “It's good.”

  “Okay. Let's go.” And so with their odd gear, Maisy and Kafi plunged through the snow, headed for the stand of yews behind the estate cottages, where they'd had no luck in running the cats to ground.

  They stepped far enough into the small wood to be cloaked, and they set the traps.

  “Now do we just wait?”

  “Yep,” Maisy said. “But we have to get out of here or they'll never come close. We have to keep checking back. Every hour, I'd say.”

  “Pippa better not have any reason to come back before her shift is up.”

  “I'll distract her if I need to,” Maisy offered.

  The job of distracting Pippa seemed a delightful one to Kafi, and one he would have coveted in other circumstances. He looked to Maisy. “I've got to get to the stables to stack a shipment of feed.”

  “And I'm off to the house. Let's meet back here in one hour.”

  Kafi checked his phone. “See you in an hour.”

  And he made his way back to the stables. Please cats, go in the cages. Please cats, go in the cages. Please cats, go in the cages.

  When he got to work arranging the sacks of feed, in the quiet of the cavernous building, his thoughts drifted from the cats to Pippa. The one person in Drakenfall who never seemed to notice him.

  But no. It wasn't true that Pippa didn't see him. He knew it wasn't. Sometimes, he'd turn suddenly or switch what he was doing at the last second, and he'd catch her looking at him with such wonder and … longing. At least that's what it felt like it looked like, not that he ever looked at her looking at him for long. Whenever he caught her, he felt immediately as if he were trespassing on her private thoughts, so he'd look away and pretend for all the world like he hadn't seen her seeing him.