Tis the Season to Be Sinful

by Adrienne Basso

  “No one can reach to tie it up that high,” Edward said dubiously, tilting his head to stare at the top of the tree.

  “And even if they could, no one would see it,” James added.

  “Yes they can,” Lizzy insisted.

  “Can’t,” James replied swiftly.

  “Can too.”

  “Can not.”

  Edward joined in and all three children began to argue. James and Edward’s punishment for their skunk prank had ended in the morning, but if they kept arguing, a new one might have to be issued. Richard moved forward, before the din became too loud and the shouting spoiled their mother’s pleasure.

  “I’ll hang it,” he said, stroking Lizzy’s hair.

  “I can help,” Edward piped up.

  “Me, too!” James insisted.

  Richard smiled at the trio and then stepped back, placing a sturdy chair next to the tree.

  “Richard Harper!” Juliet admonished in mock horror. “Don’t you dare stand on that newly upholstered chair with your dirty shoes. You’ll ruin the fabric.”

  Richard grinned lazily at his wife. “I would have thought you’d be more concerned about my safety than the fate of a piece of furniture.”

  “I care about both,” Juliet said with a saucy smirk. “Though not equally.”

  “Dare I ask which is more important?”

  “If you need to ask, then you don’t deserve to know the answer.” Edging nearer, Juliet slipped her hand into his, squeezing his fingers in a tender, reflexive gesture that sent a rush of warmth straight to Richard’s heart.

  “I’ll fetch the ladder,” Edward volunteered.

  Without asking to be included, James followed his older brother. It took at least ten minutes for them to return and a few minutes more to set the ladder in the correct spot.

  Taking the angel from Lizzy’s outstretched hand, Richard climbed slowly, testing the ladder’s strength. Satisfied it would stay locked in place, he continued going higher and higher until he was parallel to the top of the tree.

  Extending his arm, Richard reached out, only to discover he was several inches away from the top branch.

  “Damn.” He gamely repositioned his feet, and then leaned precariously forward.

  “My goodness, don’t fall,” Juliet called out from below.

  “Don’t startle the poor man like that, Juliet,” Uncle Horace said. “Or else he will take a tumble. And from that height he’s sure to do himself a grave injury.”

  Richard groaned with amusement, his concentration broken. He glanced down into the worried eyes of his wife, the trusting wonder of Lizzy’s sweet face, and the concerned expressions of Edward and James. Both boys stood at the foot of the ladder clutching the bottom rung tightly, attempting to keep it steady.

  My family.

  Conquering the sudden rush of emotion, Richard shifted his feet again. It took three additional tries, but he was finally successful in capturing the elusive top branch. With deft fingers he affixed the angel, smoothing out the creases in the lace skirt.

  “It’s beautiful.”

  Richard’s hands stilled as he heard Lizzy’s proclamation. The hushed wonder in her childish voice made him very glad that he had expended the extra effort to grant her wish.

  “It’s crooked.”

  Aunt Mildred. Bemused, and not at all surprised at the tart remark, Richard leaned back for a better view. The angel stood straight, the small golden halo centered above the branch. Using exaggerated gestures, he tugged very briefly on the ornament’s lace skirt hem.

  “Better?” he asked.

  “Perhaps a little,” Juliet admitted, sounding apologetic.

  “It doesn’t look crooked to me,” Edward said loyally.

  “I can hardly see it,” James whined. “It’s too high.”

  Richard smiled again. Descending the ladder, he moved around the tree, gazing at the angel from different directions.

  “Crooked,” he finally agreed and everyone laughed. Standing beside Edward, he placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Your turn to try and get it right. Good luck.”

  Edward’s eyes widened in astonished pleasure. Juliet opened her mouth, no doubt to protest, but Richard silenced her with a meaningful glance.

  Edward ascended the ladder with nimble swiftness. Richard waited until he had reached the fourth rung before following behind. He stayed far enough back to give Edward the feeling of independence, while remaining close enough to prevent the boy from coming to any harm.

  There was no shortage of opinions, and Richard could see Edward was trying his best to follow the conflicting advice being shouted from below. When it finally ceased, and the majority of the crowd seemed happy—truly with such a loud and boisterous group consensus was impossible—Edward carefully descended the ladder.

  Coming to stand beside Richard, he said quietly, “I think next year we should tell James to place the angel on top.”

  Richard gave him a conspiratorial smile and nodded. Content to let the others finish the job of trimming the tree, Richard accepted a goblet of mulled wine and watched the remaining barren spots quickly fill with ornaments. The servants then cleared away all the mess and everyone took a step back to admire their handiwork.

  “May we light the candles?” Edward asked.

  “Just for a few minutes,” Juliet replied. “We want them to be thick enough to burn for hours tonight and most of the day tomorrow.”

  There was a considerable amount of oohing and ahhing once the candles had been lit. The hundreds of tiny flames glowed, reflecting off the shiny ornaments, creating a spectacular sight of pure enchantment.

  “It certainly is lovely,” Aunt Mildred said.

  “The best one ever,” Uncle Horace declared.

  “You say that every time we have a tree,” Edward accused.

  A grin spread over the older man’s face. “That’s because it’s true every time.”

  Richard could not agree more. The tree was magnificent, like a fairy-tale fantasy. Reaching for his own fantasy, Richard pulled Juliet back against his chest, his arms encircling her slender waist.

  She sighed as she leaned into him, her head lolling back against his shoulder. Tilting his chin, Richard pressed a kiss on the pulse at her neck, a smile breaking out when he felt her shiver.

  “I never thought I’d say this in a million years, but I think next year we should have two trees,” he proclaimed. “Or maybe three.”

  “They do bring that extra magic touch, don’t they?” Juliet said, turning to face him. “Of course, each year I shall expect you to personally select the tree, or trees, and supervise the decorating of them. No sending the servants out in the woods or delegating the task to your secretary.”

  Next year. And the year after. It was true—there would be many more Christmases to celebrate together, many happy memories to create. Richard felt the tenderness well up inside him as he stared into Juliet’s smiling eyes. In them he saw a hint of passion, but more importantly, he saw her love.

  Unable to resist the allure, he brought one hand up to cup her face. Smoothing his thumb over her plump lips, he dipped his head and kissed her.

  Oh, the many joys of Christmas!

  The rest of the day raced past in a blizzard of activities, the entire household humming with excitement and anticipation over the upcoming holiday. There were moments when Richard felt he had landed in the center of a tornado as neighbors joined the family for various celebrations.

  As dusk began to arrive, carolers gathered in the village square, with families coming from homes large and small to participate. Following a long-held village custom, each person stood with a lit candle, illuminating the square with dancing light, their voices raised in harmony.

  Richard stood surrounded by Juliet and the children, joining in when he knew the words to the songs, humming along when he did not. As it grew colder, Lizzy, her cheeks rosy, pressed herself closer to him. The feel of her small mitten-covered hand in his own made him feel r
idiculously happy.

  When the singing ended, Richard held his candle so Lizzy could blow it out, then scooped her up in his arms. Walking with a spring in his step, he carried the little girl into church, where they were to watch the play organized by the ladies of the congregation.

  Reverend Abernathy read from the Bible as the players re-created the Christmas story, beginning with the arrival of Mary and Joseph in Bethlehem. Richard found it a soothing balm to the senses after all the noise and frantic pace of the holiday preparations to be reminded of the true meaning of it all—the birth of the Christ child.

  As he listened to the words, he began to reflect on Juliet’s deep desire to have another baby. His baby. The idea of her pregnancy still caused a jolt of fear inside him, but along with it was a new feeling. One of longing. And nervous excitement. Another child would enrich their lives even more, would strengthen their bond, their love.

  By the end of the performance, Lizzy had fallen asleep and the boys were slumped down on the pew, yawning noticeably. Gazing over their heads, Richard looked at Juliet. She looked back and they smiled at each other.

  Her face snuggled against the fur collar of his coat, Richard carried Lizzy from the church. She awoke when they arrived in the coach and settled herself comfortably in her mother’s lap.

  “I really wanted to ride in the carriage sleigh tonight,” James grumbled as he took his seat inside the coach.

  “We need snow for that,” Edward said with a sneer, but at the stern glance from Richard, the boy softened his expression. “Maybe it will snow tomorrow on Christmas Day.”

  “Do you think it will, Papa?” Lizzy asked.

  She had tested this new title a few hours ago and Richard was still startled each time he heard it. Startled, but pleased.

  “If it snows, I suppose you will want to go sledding,” he speculated.

  “Yes, please!” came a chorus of replies.

  “But if you are outside sledding, who will eat the Christmas goose?” Juliet asked.

  “We will!” they shouted.

  “Unless Uncle Horace eats it all while we are outside,” James grumbled.

  “I’m sure Uncle Horace would not be so greedy,” Juliet admonished her son.

  “He’d probably prefer sledding to goose anyway, which means he’d be outside with us,” Edward said with a grin.

  “Right in the thick of it,” Richard agreed. “I’d wager that he’d be the one to start a snowball fight.”

  “No, that would be Lord George,” Juliet said.

  “No, that will be me!” James shouted.

  A lively discussion ensued over the merits of snowball fights and sledding and making snow angels. By the time they turned down the manor drive, Richard found himself hoping for snow nearly as much as the children.

  He told them if the cold continued and the ice forming on the pond thickened, they would be able to skate on it. And make a slide to see who could skid the farthest across it. The winner would be awarded a special prize—something silly, James insisted.

  Once back inside the house, there were no protests when Juliet declared it was time for the children to go to bed.

  “I’m going to fall asleep right away so Christmas will come faster,” Lizzy said as Richard tucked her beneath the covers.

  “That’s a very clever idea,” he agreed, brushing a good-night kiss on the little girl’s forehead.

  Richard and Juliet soon took to their own bed, talking well into the night about the plans for Christmas Day and beyond. Discussing the future gave Richard a remarkable sense of hope—and peace. Juliet had agreed to travel to London with him for part of the year, when business commitments kept him in the city. The children would come, too, along with their nanny and tutor.

  Richard could not contain his laughter when he tried to imagine how his stodgy London butler would react to the change. No doubt the household would be turned upside down.

  Cuddling close in the semidarkness, Richard could see that Juliet was starting to drift off to sleep. Leaning over, he kissed her mouth deeply, tenderly, savoring the pleasure of it. A second kiss was all it took to awaken the passion they both felt.

  Later, sated and content, they fell asleep beneath the warm covers, their bodies touching, the connection maintained even during slumber. Morning came far too soon, with an eager Lizzy knocking insistently at their bedchamber door.

  “You must wake up this very minute,” she cried. “Or else you’ll miss Christmas!”

  Richard groaned as he enfolded a very sleepy Juliet in his arms. “Will she go away if we pretend to be asleep?” he asked.

  “Not our Lizzy.” Juliet yawned, and then stretched her neck. “I fear if we wait too long to emerge, she will enlist the aid of her brothers. Or Uncle Horace.”

  “Damn.” He rolled away from her with a grunt.

  “Happy Christmas, Richard.”

  “Same to you, my love.”

  Juliet smiled, and Richard fought to capture and imprint the moment in his memory. Feeling as excited as Lizzy, he reached for the velvet jewelry box he had hidden in the table beside the bed, anxious to give Juliet her gift. But before he could reveal it to her, James and Edward’s voices joined with Lizzy entreating them to come out of the bedchamber.

  Reluctantly, Richard closed the drawer, the gift still inside.

  And thus the day began.

  The weeks leading up to the holiday had been noisy and chaotic, but Richard soon learned they were nothing compared to the noise and laughter on Christmas morning. The enormous tree was lit and the drawing room filled with excitement as everyone opened their presents, squeals of pleasure and shouts of thanks echoing throughout the room.

  After the family had finished opening gifts, the servants were called. Richard stood beside Juliet as she distributed the presents to the household staff, making a special effort to smile pleasantly at each servant as he shook their hands and wished them merry.

  Richard had a few extra words of thanks, along with a handful of coins, for the groom who had successfully dispatched the skunk from his study. And there was a portfolio of modest investments for his valet, Hallet, who had executed his duties with grace and efficiency these past few weeks, successfully removing oatmeal from leather shoes and the odor of skunk from a business suit.

  After the gifts, the feasting began. Cook beamed with pride as she presented the roast goose stuffed with apples and prunes to the applauding table of family, friends, and neighbors. There was potted shrimp and suckling pig with red currant jelly, bread sauce, peas, carrots, potatoes, chestnuts—more food than many could remember seeing at one time.

  The children joined the adults at the table and everyone made a valiant effort to consume as much of the delicious food as possible, even when reminded repeatedly by Juliet to save room for dessert.

  Dessert was presented with equal fanfare. The dining room candles were extinguished and Richard was elected to light the flame on the plum pudding. A blushing Miss Hardie found the gold ring, and George was quick to say he would do everything within his power to ensure that this holiday tradition would prove true, resulting in her marriage sometime in the coming new year.

  Accompanying the pudding were exotic fruits and nuts, Turkish delight, peppermint ribbon candy, and enough gingerbread to make Uncle Horace happy. The gentlemen decided to forgo their port and cigars and everyone adjourned to the drawing room to continue with the celebration.

  There were parlor games and singing and dancing and a late-night cold supper that everyone insisted they were too full to eat, yet many of the platters gradually became empty. It was clear that no one wanted the day of joy and good fellowship to end, but the night crept in and darkness soon followed. Sleepy children were brought to bed, followed by the adults.

  Richard turned to Juliet when they were finally alone, catching her admiring the Christmas tree.

  “Time for bed, my dear,” he said. “And time to extinguish the candles.”

  “I know.” Juliet sig
hed, then smiled regretfully. “Just a few more minutes, please. Once the candles are out, Christmas will be over.”

  She sounded so much like Lizzy, Richard smiled. Reaching into his breast coat pocket, he withdrew an oblong box. “I tried to give this to you this morning, but the children were too anxious for Christmas to begin. I hope my small token will prolong the holiday spirit for you.”

  “What have you done?” Juliet asked in a trembling voice as she tugged off the gold satin ribbon and opened the box.

  He held his breath as she gazed inside, hoping he had selected the right necklace. There had been so many fine pieces to choose from, it had been difficult to pick one. “Do you like it?” he asked.

  She gave him a gentle smile. “Like it? I adore it!”

  “Are you certain? You can exchange it and select something else altogether.”

  “Why ever would I do something so ridiculous?” she asked, lifting the necklace toward the light. The many-faceted diamonds sparkled brightly, the platinum chain linking them together offsetting their brilliance.

  “There are earrings to match,” Richard said, pulling them out of the satin-lined box.

  “Oh, Richard, it’s too much.”

  “Nonsense. The night we danced together I knew you were born to wear diamonds. Here, let me help you put it on.”

  She obediently turned so he could place the jewels around her neck and fasten the clasp. The moment it was done, she turned to face him again, her hand pressing against her throat. “Does it look all right?”

  “Perfect,” he answered, barely glancing at the necklace but instead gazing into her face.

  It was wonderful to see her so carefree and happy, the glow of the candlelight from the tree reflected in her deep brown eyes. His heart felt like it missed a beat when she smiled. Unable to resist, he drew her into the circle of his arms.

  “I love you, Richard.”

  “I love and adore you, Juliet.”

  “I love, admire, and respect you, Richard.”

  “I love, adore, worship, and honor you, Juliet. And I most definitely cannot live without you.”

  Juliet’s smile turned to merry laughter. “All right. You win,” she said, jabbing him affectionately in the shoulder.