Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Genevieve had spent the last few days sleeping badly and feeling guilty.
The first day without Kendrick beside her, she had woken from a nightmare.
She had reached for him instinctively and when she had not found his comforting presence, she had plunged into melancholy.
To top it all off, every shop was full of evergreen garlands and every person on the street seemed to exude good cheer, and Fletcher had returned at dusk from visiting the children at Dominic’s house to report that “a ruddy great tree” had been installed in the family parlor.
The children had excitedly decorated it and hung stockings upon the fireplace.
Carmine House had not a garland or festive bow to be seen.
“We going to get some of them gewgaws?” Fletcher wanted to know. “Peter and Hannah could decorate.” He had eyed Genevieve pointedly, which meant he would like to decorate too.
How miserly of her, to deny the children the delight of a fully bedecked Christmas, all because she could not reckon with her feelings towards the season. Scrooge-like, she thought morosely. How ghastly.
She finally squared her shoulders against her—what was it, pride or fear?—and asked Robbie to get them a tree and some greenery, since Kendrick was away.
The tree arrived the next night, so large, it nearly didn’t fit through the door. The three burly human deliverymen had to shove it through the doorway.
“Criffins, watch where you’re going!” Robbie commanded as it nearly careened into a wall. “Here, this way.”
“You gave in, did you?” Elspeth murmured over Genevieve’s shoulder.
“I did.” Genevieve sighed. “Fletcher recruited help.”
“Hannah has very effective puppy-dog eyes.”
“That she does. Let us just hope that Wulfric does not get confused with other trees he prefers to water in the garden.”
“A kissing bough, even,” Elspeth said in an intrigued voice.
“A kissing bough?” Genevieve repeated, her eyebrows flying up. “I said nothing about a kissing bough!”
“Robbie must’ve taking the initiative, then.” Elspeth smiled. “I’ll just tell him where to put it, shall I?”
They had gathered the children and were busily engaged in cutting out paper ornaments and stringing popcorn, a welcome respite from ball preparation, when a voice said, “I’m away for two days and you decide to redecorate?”
The smile that broke across Genevieve’s face at the sound of Kendrick’s voice could not be stifled. Kendrick stood in the doorway, freshly scrubbed of travel dust, watching the goings-on with amused interest.
Genevieve got from the floor to the doorway in a twinkling and wrapped her arms around him.
“Did you miss me?” he murmured in her ear.
“I think I did,” she said in a thick voice. “Oh—a letter came for you yesterday. Let me find it.”
“I have something for you as well,” he said.
“I told you not to get me anything.”
“I didn’t—precisely. And you may decide whether you would like it now or wait until Christmas for it.”
“Now, if you’re so determined on it,” her traitorous heart wanted to say, still afraid of what fraught feelings the day might invoke. But she heard herself say, “I’ll wait until Christmas.”
Kendrick followed her into the hall, where she handed him the missive that had arrived the day before.
His eyes flew up at the return address. He broke it open and scanned its contents before laughing.
“You will have to add another two to the guest list, sweetheart,” he said, handing it to her. She read it curiously.
Dear Kendrick,
What do you mean, MARRIED? Good God, man, it’s not even been two months since we last saw you. Who on earth could you have met? What, did Etienne tell you, “Thou art sad; get thee a wife, get thee a wife”?
Ophelia and I aren’t even married yet, though we will be by the time you read this.
We have been in Ireland, Ophelia learning much from the Ossory werewolves.
Ophelia has come to terms with raw meat on the full moon and getting furrier than she would like, though she still has moments that take her aback.
However, she wishes to spend Christmas with her human friend Marie-Claire in Yorkshire and marry there.
So, your letter arrived at precisely the right time.
When you receive this, we shall be en route to Yorkshire—or Ophelia and the menagerie will.
I will be packed away with a book in a very large steamer trunk, counting the minutes.
Time goes on crutches till love hath all his rites.
But Ophelia was delighted to hear that you have married, and she wishes to be at Addie and Etienne’s ceremony in a few weeks, anyway, so we will hie to London for the new year after the holidays. Thank you for the invitation.
And I mean that sincerely. Receiving your letter made me realize what a lot of baggage I was holding on to concerning London and the Ossuary.
I will never regret turning down any sort of leadership—I do not have the temperament for that—but I am impressed and gladder than I can say that you are righting the ship.
And I think Ophelia will be glad to know more female friends besides Addie.
We will arrive in London on the 28th if the trains run on time. Or Ophelia will. I will be safely ensconced in the aforementioned trunk.
Your friend,
Salem
“These are the friends you told me about. Our first proper houseguests,” Genevieve said with some surprise. “What menagerie does he speak of?”
“Ophelia has a dog and three cats that I assume she’ll be bringing.”
“Oh. And they don’t mind vampires?”
“They’re warming to them.”
“Well, Wulfric will have some company. Perhaps it will keep him from being naughty. Sally was very cross with him for besmirching the dining room rug. Let me tell Sally that we will need a room cleaned—preferably one fully furnished—”
“That can wait a bit. For right now…” He trailed off.
Genevieve asked, “What is it?”
“You’re under the kissing bough, mum!” Hannah exclaimed, clapping her hands.
Genevieve turned to find the children in the doorway, flanked by Sally and Elspeth, all with mischievous smiles on their faces. She looked up. Sure enough, there was a sprig of mistletoe hanging above them in the archway.
“When did that get there?” she asked.
“Never mind that; you’ve got to kiss—those are the rules!” Elspeth smirked.
“How do you know?”
“Robbie and I tested it. It’s ironclad,” she said virtuously.
“Mysterious are the ways of the kissing bough,” Kendrick said, his eyes twinkling.
“And you love a mystery,” Genevieve said.
He grinned down at her as he pulled her close. “That I do.”
As he pressed a kiss to her mouth, all the children cheered, and Genevieve remembered what it was like to be warm.
Christmas was planned as a “family” holiday.
Vampire staff would be given the holiday of both Christmas Eve and Christmas Day.
Human staff would receive Christmas Day and Boxing Day off, though they would be having their own meals and celebration at the house.
Addie would be cooking and baking in the evenings.
The staff gift had been a bonus in advance of Christmas so they might buy themselves whatever they liked, since many had never had ready money of their own.
Genevieve and Kendrick would exchange gifts on Christmas Eve, since Genevieve had gifts for Fletcher and Hannah and Peter. Nothing else was planned.
Except, as the carolers went door to door on the evenings before Christmas Eve and the church bells rang out in the clear night air, Genevieve kept thinking of her wedding night.
Or rather, wedding morning. How she had wanted to be married in a church.
And how she longed to believe that she could step freely over the threshold without fear of retribution or condemnation.
“I have found nothing to fear in a church,” Kendrick had said.
Genevieve laughed suddenly to herself, covering her face with her hand. How strange, to long for something so much yet equally shrink back from it! To wish for the comfort and familiarity of the church building yet shrink back from the holiest of days it upheld!
Goose, she castigated herself, and she went to find Kendrick.
He was in the library, rolling his eyes over another “helpful note” from one of the better-off vampire households.
“One more page to add to the kindling,” he said, handing the letter to her, one written in a spidery hand full of caution and woes that may betide they who change ancient vampiric traditions.
“If the ancient vampire does not give a jot for the traditions, you’d think that would give them some pause,” Genevieve remarked.
“I’ll have you know I’m not a year past a thousand,” Kendrick said. “Maybe.”
“Still, it gives us insight into the portion of the Ossuary that is still hidebound and resistant to change.” Genevieve set the missive down on the desk. “Don’t burn it just yet.”
“I commend your forethought.” Kendrick lifted an eyebrow. “Did you need me, Genevieve?”
Staring into his gold eyes, she knew that the answer was yes. “I think I would like to attend a Christmas Eve service,” she admitted in a small voice. “But I’m afraid.”
He didn’t ask why. He didn’t say there was nothing to be afraid of. All he said was, “Would you like me to go with you?”
She nodded.
“I believe St. Alban’s is holding one. I shall be pleased to escort you, ma’am.” He stood and bowed over her hand. “You find yourself in possession of a willing knight-errant.”
“Thank you,” she murmured.
“Tonight, then.”
Tonight! She stared at the clock on the desk. It was past midnight. Christmas Eve had officially begun.