by Kate Pearce
“But at Christmas when someone gave you a new pair of socks or mittens, maybe even a new scarf, you knew you were loved. Anything to keep the Yule Cat from gobbling you up meant someone cared about you.”
Lady Gaia straightened, as did Elias. He leaned in and whispered. “Did she say gobbling you up?”
“I believe so,” Lady Gaia whispered back. “Perhaps Bríet hasn’t translated the word correctly.”
“I certainly hope that’s the case.” Good God, what kind of place was Iceland where they terrified children with stories of cats that would eat you?
However, the longer Bríet told her story, the more he realized that there wasn’t a mistake in the girl’s translation and there really was a legend about an evil cat.
“Lord Lydell!” The crisp voice of Martha, the nursery maid, cut into Elias’s thoughts. “Lady Alice refuses to go back to sleep.”
In her arms, she held the child who reached out her arms to Elias. He couldn’t blame Alice; he wouldn’t want to be with that woman either.
“I’ll return upstairs now.” She didn’t even ask but thrust the little girl at Elias, turned, stuck her nose in the air and left. Martha did not approve of their lodgings for the night, but there was little choice. Though, he had suggested that she could remain in the carriage if the very idea of entering the establishment was too disturbing for her sensibilities. She’d lasted an hour before she knocked on the door, took Alice from Elias, and marched up to the room he’d been assigned. As there were so few chambers available, Elias resigned to sleep on one of the settees and advised Frau Klaus of his decision.
“I’m just glad she didn’t bring your daughter down while we were hearing about the cat,” Lady Gaia whispered as Alice cuddled into his lap and rested her head against his chest.
That story would have given any child nightmares. “My cousin. Second cousin, actually,” Elias corrected. “When my cousin died, she became my ward.”
Sadness flooded Lady Gaia’s eyes. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
He supposed that was an appropriate response, but Elias had never met his cousin nor his wife.
“Where are you traveling to?” Lady Gaia asked.
“Bath,” Elias responded. “Had I known how the weather would be, I would have remained in Margate a bit longer.” Shifting, Elias turned more toward Lady Gaia. “Where do your travels take you?”
“Mother and I recently arrived in Dover from Italy and we are on our way to Calcott, where my father resides.”
Yes, he had detected Italian in her accent.
She then focused on Alice. “I shall tell you a much more pleasant story, one that I knew as a child and kept me well-behaved.”
“It doesn’t involve a monster cat, does it?”
At that, Lady Gaia laughed, rich and joyful, warming his blood.
“It’s of La Befana.”
Just thinking about La Befana brought a smile to Gaia’s face. In fact, the old woman sitting not far away looked quite a bit like Gaia had always imagined how the witch would appear.
“Yes, tell of La Befana,” the old woman insisted, her ancient face crinkling with wrinkles as she smiled.
For a moment, Gaia was stunned. Did she detect a hint of Italian in the old woman’s words? Gaia had thought she and her mother were the only Italians inside the brothel.
At that thought, Gaia nearly laughed. Who would have ever dreamed she’d be inside a brothel? Not that Gaia had any objection to the shelter over their heads that evening, as she always welcomed an adventure. However, she’d need to be careful if she ever told this story to anyone since it could harm her reputation.
“Tell me about your La Befana,” Lord Lydell insisted.
“La Befana was known as the best housekeeper in her village and always kept a pleasant home. One day, after seeing the bright star in the sky, the one that announced the coming birth of Jesus, the Magi approached La Befana and asked for directions to where the Son of God could be found.”
The old woman was still smiling and nodding her head, an almost reminiscent shadow in her dark eyes. Perhaps she was recalling stories from her own childhood.
“She did not know where the Christ Child could be found, but she did provide the Magi shelter for the night. On the following morning when they were to continue on their journey, they asked that La Befana join them.”
“Did she go?” Lord Lydell asked when Gaia paused to take a sip of her tea.
“No. She was too busy with her housework and couldn’t take the journey.” Gaia paused then looked around at the gathering before continuing. The old woman seemed to watch her with approval.
“However, she later had a change of heart and tried to find the astrologers and Jesus. Unfortunately, she was unable to locate them, and to this day, it is said that La Befana is still searching for the baby.”
“Surely, she knows that was long ago and the baby is no longer a baby,” someone said from across the room.
Gaia dismissed him. If those gathering believed in a murderous cat, then they should believe in La Befana as well. “To this day, she continues to search and visits the homes of children. If they’ve been good, she fills their stockings with toys, candy or fruit. If they’ve been bad, she leaves coal, onions or garlic. Often she’ll also sweep the floor before she leaves.”
“Because she’s a good housekeeper,” Lydell added.
“Of course.” Gaia smiled, pleased with herself, wishing that she still believed in La Befana. It was always such a magical time of the year, waiting in anticipation for what would be found in her stocking.”
“She does this on Christmas Eve?” Lord Lydell asked with delight. At least he was humoring her.
“No, on January fifth, the eve of Epiphany.”
“And she visits all of the children in Italy? How is that possible?” Bríet asked.
“She flies on her broom, of course. She is an excellent housekeeper and always has a broom.”
“A witch?” Lydell choked in disbelief.
“Not a witch at all,” Gaia insisted. “Though the children who have been naughty might think so.” Gaia laughed.
“Have you ever seen La Befana?” he asked.
“Oh, no,” Gaia insisted. “If a child doesn’t remain in bed and sees La Befana, they’ll receive a thump from her broomstick. I had no wish for that.”
Lydell laughed, startling his tiny cousin who had fallen asleep on his lap, the girl’s thumb stuck between her rosebud lips. Such a precious child. It’s sad that her parents were gone, but at least her cousin cared for her. Most gentlemen, especially when they were young like Lydell, wouldn’t give attention let alone affection to a child, even if it was his own. At least, that had been her experience among aristocracy with the exception of Gaia’s father.
It warmed her heart seeing the two of them together and she hoped that one day, when she married and had children, her husband would be equally affectionate with any children they were blessed with.
“So, tell me, Lady Gaia, did you always receive treats and toys, or did La Befana ever have a reason to leave you coal and garlic?” His green eyes lit with teasing.
“I was always a good child, Lord Lydell,” Gaia insisted with a mock huff. “In fact, one year La Befana left me this.” Then she pulled a delicate gold chain around her neck and withdrew the dainty opal that hung from it. She always wore the necklace, though often it was beneath her clothing, as the opal lay close to her heart.
The old woman gasped. “La Befana does not bring such gifts.”
The outrage took Gaia aback. “I know,” she quickly assured the old woman. “At least I know that now. It was a gift from my father because he could not be with us. My mother put it in my stocking.”
“Still, it is not right.” The old woman shook a bony finger at Gaia. “Other children might expect grand gifts and be disappointed in the morning.”
Gaia had never thought of that. “I never told anyone,” she insisted.
The woman relaxed. “I know
. Otherwise you would have received garlic and coal the next year, and perhaps your mother, too, for the deception.”
Goodness, the old woman was certainly taking this seriously.
“It’s a simple bauble, hardly of any worth,” Gaia insisted, cradling it in her hand.
“Yet you continue to wear it.” Lydell caught her eye once more.
“It’s a gift from my father. It’s sentimental.” Growing up, Gaia had lacked for nothing but she rarely received a gift, which was why this bauble held a special place in her heart.
“Is he no longer with you?” Lydell asked in concern.
“Oh, he is still alive,” Gaia quickly assured him. “He and my mother rarely lived together. She wished to remain in Italy and Father was required to be in England, especially after he came into his title. They took turns visiting one another, enjoying a great love and passion, until their love turned to passionate arguments. Then, they separated, while their love was still strong so as not to tarnish the joy they usually found with each other.”
Lydell’s eyebrows rose. Gaia well knew that husbands and wives usually lived together. Or at least until they couldn’t stand to be around the other. Her parents had no wish to end up unhappy and their reunions were always very delightful, with her parents disappearing into their chambers for a few days before she saw either one of them again.
“You are on your way to see your father now?”
“Yes. We will remain through the summer. Father wishes for me to have a Season.”
Lord Lydell studied her, his green eyes darkening as a smile slowly formed. “I’d thought to avoid London next spring. I believe I’ve changed my mind.”
Heat stole into her cheeks and her pulse picked up a bit. “I’d like that, Lord Lydell.”
He leaned forward. “Save a waltz for me?”
“What if we don’t attend the same functions?” she teased.
At that, he lifted her hand and kissed the back of her fingers. “I can assure you, Lady Gaia, I’ll know exactly where you’ll be.”
Gaia almost wished that once they left the brothel they’d not need to wait until spring to see the other. Who knew what could develop if they were allowed even a few more days?
“Well, it grows late and my bones grow weary.” The old woman stood, shuffled across the room and looked out the window then grasped the broom that rested just inside the door. “I hope this clears soon.” Then she turned and headed to the stairs but looked directly at Gaia. “After all, I must return to Italy before January 5th.” With a wink, she turned away and started up the stairs.
Gaia’s eyes widened.
“You don’t think…” Then Gaia shook her head at such fanciful thoughts. “Of course not. I’m being silly.”
“I’m not certain you are,” Lydell uttered absently as he watched the old woman disappear from sight. “But, just in case…” He turned to smile at Gaia. “I’ll warn Alice to be good, on the chance we find ourselves in Italy one day.”
The Heartbreaker’s Tale
Susan Gee Heino
Lizzie Sanders tiptoed from the room, careful not to creak the floorboards or squeak the door hinges. It had been very nice of Frau Klaus to find a private little room for Mamma to sleep—the last three days’ journey and the dreadful snowstorm they had encountered had been very hard on her. And now to realize they would not reach their destination for Christmas Eve… well, Mamma was quite nearly devastated.
Lizzie sighed. The recent days had been very taxing for her, too. She pulled the door shut as she stepped out of the tiny bedroom and tried to block out the sounds coming from behind the other doors along this narrow corridor. She supposed this was the nice thing about taking shelter in this place—there were quite a few bedrooms. Of course, that was also the very thing that made it not-so-nice to take shelter in this place.
The Klaus House was a brothel.
Not that it seemed there would be very much of that craft going on here tonight. No, the dreadful weather seemed to have put an end to any form of travel or trade here in Canterbury. Anyone who had been on the road was now forced to take lodging wherever they could. The inns were all full, local houses were full, and Lizzie had heard that Frau Klaus even put travelers in her stable!
The older woman seemed to take special care of their party, though, hence the room for Mamma. Lizzie had made a pallet for herself in that room and she would turn in there eventually. Her husband, James, had said he would find a chair or a pallet elsewhere. Lizzie wanted to believe this was out of necessity given their cramped surroundings, but a part of her knew it was more than that.
Things had been cool between her and James for some time now. She feared that she understood why, and it broke her heart. The poor man. He took on the responsibility of a wife in August, was cast into grieving Papa’s loss in September, and then Lizzie brought Mamma to live with them in October. It was too much in such a short time! Worse, through all of it James might have learned a terrible truth.
Naturally Lizzie had done all that she could to keep it from him. They’d barely had time to get to know one another before Papa died and life was suddenly upended. Papa’s older children—Lizzie’s half-siblings from his first marriage—inherited most of his wealth and surely that came as little surprise. The rest of it, though… well, Lizzie was still reeling from shock at what she had learned. It did explain a few things, though.
The house was inherited by the oldest son. Mamma didn’t even question that but simply turned it over to her stepson and his wife. The rest of Papa’s estate was divided up and Lizzie was appalled at the arrangements. Mamma was left with barely enough to support herself! Naturally, Lizzie insisted she come to live with them, although she rather forgot to ask James if he approved first. She merely told him she’d invited her mother to visit for a short while. Now that short while was becoming a longer while and she still hadn’t told her husband the truth.
How could she? If he didn’t already know, then he would wonder why such an extended stay was necessary. He would wonder why her father had not left a better settlement. He would ask all sorts of questions that Lizzie would have to answer. Then he would know the truth; he would know what a terrible mistake he had made when he married her.
She hurried down the worn staircase and made her way to the large common area where several of the other stranded guests had gathered. It was a drawing room or parlor, of sorts, and decorated in bold colors. The luxurious furnishings were covered in lush fabrics and every available candle and lamp was burning brightly.
The most eye-catching feature of all was the garish tree that was set up in the room and covered in decorations. Frau Klaus called it a Tannenbaum, apparently a Christmas tradition in her homeland. And quite an interesting tradition is was. As if bringing a tree indoors and decorating it wasn’t enough, this Tannenbaum had candles on it as well! They added to the glittering effect of the room, shadows dancing over everyone’s face and a warm glow making the place soft and inviting. Lizzie would never have thought she could feel so comfortable in a brothel.
Perhaps that said something of her...
“Ah, here you are, my dear,” Frau Klaus greeted in the doorway as she flitted by carrying a tray for her guests. “Is your mother settled for the night?”
“Yes, she’s quite comfortable, thank you,” Lizzie said.
She knew what Frau was—the madame of the house—and she knew she ought to avoid contact with women such as Frau or her workers, but the older woman had been nothing but friendly toward them since the moment they arrived. Even as more travelers came to her door, begging for lodging as the weather outside worsened, Frau continued to be giving and kind. How could Lizzie not find herself drawn to such a person?
And it only added to her appreciation that Frau seemed especially accommodating to Mamma. After all that they had been through recently, it was heartwarming to see Mamma being so looked after and tended. She seemed honestly pleased to be here under Frau’s care despite the disreputable nature
of the place.
“Come in, then,” Frau invited, her blue eyes shining and the white feathers in her turban bouncing with enthusiasm. “Warm yourself by the fire; it seems there are wonderful stories to hear.”
Indeed, the group was gathered around, listening as one of the girls from the house shared a delightfully strange tale from her childhood in Iceland. Lizzie found James in the group, but he was too enthralled in the story—or perhaps in watching the stunning young lady who was telling it—to notice her. A distinguished older man was seated next to him, so Lizzie took the empty seat beside this stranger.
She settled in quietly and the gentleman nodded politely. James glanced over and noticed her, so she gave him a weak smile but quickly turned her focus to the young woman’s story. It was fascinating, after all. Who would have ever thought to tell children that a giant Yule Cat was going to gobble them up if they didn’t have new clothes for Christmas?
In the end, the story concluded happily. Everyone in the room applauded and soon another person was sharing a tale. Rather than interrupt, Lizzie stayed silent and merely shook her head when James leaned toward her and tried to speak. The older gentleman whispered and made motions that indicated he would move so that Lizzie could sit beside James, but she hurriedly shushed them both and pretended to be wholly engaged in the storytelling.
Frau made several trips in and out of the room and her servants were kept busy seeing to the needs of all the guests. What an odd assortment they were, too. Lizzie could have never guessed she would be spending Christmas Eve in a brothel full of strangers, yet here she was. Perhaps the most unusual thing about it all was that she did not feel out of place!