Chapter 12
“S ardines!” Lord Zephyr declared. “I say we play sardines.”
A general shout of happiness went up from the family. Perdita was so happy her family was having a wonderful time, and she loved Christmas Eve.
Though all year was excellent, she had a special love for Christmas Eve. The tree had been decorated by the children, her mother, and her brothers and sisters.
Watching Gordon begin to have his heart melted was one of the most glorious sights she had ever seen. She had watched him be kind to her little niece, and then he had been kind to all the children.
They had flocked to him as much as they had to her mother. It was an astonishing thing to behold, and he had seemed particularly surprised by how he had been so embraced.
It had done a wondrous thing for Perdita’s constitution to see that large man surrounded by small people, all jumping up and down and crying out to ask him to help them reach the highest branches, which he had done with aplomb and a surprising amount of eagerness.
In turn, he had helped them place ornaments on the highest branches with ease and care, making sure they were pleased with the place of their ornament before moving on to the next one.
Gordon had given in to the joy of the strange tradition that was so popular in the areas around Salzburg.
She was delighted that her mother had brought it over to share with them. The whole house now smelt of greenery, and there was an undeniable happiness about it. Seeing the greenery really did allow one to believe that winter would be over one day and that they would survive the darkness that was there at present.
As was their yearly custom, the entire house was decorated with greenery. The children, her brothers and sisters, herself, Gordon, her aunt, her mother, and even her grandmother had spent the rest of the afternoon, after the tree, assisting the servants to put holly, ivy, and so many good things all over the house, including a good bit of mistletoe, which she knew her married brothers and sisters loved and had already taken advantage of several times.
It would’ve been quite shocking to an outsider to see the amount of kissing that went on in the Briarwood household, but the Briarwoods were notoriously affectionate. Thank goodness! For she was a very affectionate person herself, and she was determined that Gordon should be as well.
Sardines would be perfect. Still, she knew Zephyr was up to something. For he had that merry glow in his eyes that only some of her brothers got right before they were about to launch something devilish.
Zephyr raised his hands, calming the enthusiasm of those about the room, and then declared, “And I say, we appoint our guest as the first sardine.”
Gordon looked as if he was about to die of mortification. “I don’t generally play games,” he stated.
Zephyr grinned. “This isn’t a general time, is it? No, no, it’s a special day, and you are a special guest, so you must step out of your usual comfort and join the melee.”
“Alright,” Gordon said, though he looked as if he longed for a good drink of brandy or a swift escape. But good man that he was, he did not reach out for one or depart.
Instead, he stood at the center of the crowded drawing room and asked, “How exactly shall I do it?”
They stared at him, collectively agape.
“I beg your pardon?” Zephyr asked.
“How do I play?” Gordon clarified.
“What do you mean?” the duke blurted as if the question had been asked in ancient Greek, which was rather hilarious because the game itself was from ancient Greece.
“The game,” Gordon said simply, frowning. “What is the point of it?”
He really had never played. The family looked around at each other for a long moment.
But then Ajax jumped in. “Well, we send you, the first sardine, off and then we all count and run about. We are looking for where you’ve hidden, and then we each try to find you. And once one of us finds you, we slide into your hiding place and don’t tell anyone else that we found you.”
Gordon blinked at them all. “And that’s the point of the game?”
“Exactly,” Achilles said, his arm about his wife Aurelia’s waist. “Do you follow?”
Gordon looked mystified. “Not really.”
Hector cocked a brow. “I thought you were fast.”
“Steady on,” said their grandmother, who was decked out in a silver gown accented with bright-red flowers and a coiffure that bobbed with holly greenery and berries. “You lot are quite a good deal to manage.”
“How true, Grandmama,” the duke intoned. “Gordon is exceptionally fast. It is we who are exceptionally confusing!”
Gordon looked alarmed when the duke locked his attention on him, as if something was happening that he didn’t quite understand.
The duke, as if to emphasize this fear, rubbed his hands together, causing his signet ring to shine in the candle glow. “We want you to run like the wind and find a good place to hide. All right? We’ll all close our eyes, count to a good number, and then chase you down.”
“I say,” Gordon replied, clearing his throat. “Isn’t this a rather childish game?”
“It’s Christmas,” the duke said as if that explained everything.
Her grandmother clasped her walking stick and with a sparkling wisdom added, “We are all children at heart, are we not?”
Gordon did not look like a child, but before they were done with him, his boyish side would be out again. About that, Perdita was determined.
And then Gordon, with a pained look on his face, gave a nod.
“Right then,” he said. “Let’s begin.”
And so they all covered their eyes and began to count.
They could hear Gordon’s footsteps go off into the hall. And after long minutes of counting, she grinned.
“Alright!” Zephyr announced. “Let the fun begin.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What are you up to?”
Zephyr crossed to her and waggled his brows. “I know where he’s going to go. I have a servant watching for him, who will know his hiding place, and you must go after him.”
And as if the servant knew their role in this madcap game, a young footman in perfect livery slipped in, beaming as he approached. “He is hiding in the linen closet along the second floor.”
“Thank you,” Zephyr replied. “Well done. Cook has a special present waiting for you for your assistance.”
The footman beamed and headed off.
“Go. Immediately,” Zephyr whispered in her ear.
“It’s cheating,” she countered.
“Briarwoods don’t cheat,” he said. “They arrange.”
She laughed. “How very true.”
“And I can tell he’s dragging his feet… Even though you two have—”
She swatted at her brother. “Look, Zephyr, you don’t need to say everything.”
“Yes, I do,” he teased, though there was a seriousness in his gaze. “Right, go and find him.”
“But surely—”
Zephyr took her arm and said gently, wisely, “You need to get him alone and keep showing him that life can be much better than he thinks it is. The poor man. He’s almost as shriveled as a mummy, having given up on the good in life and seeing only the bad. And if we don’t rescue him, he will stay in his crypt.”
“That’s not true!” And then her voice died off. It was true. If something didn’t happen soon, her darling man was going to wither away alone because he couldn’t see the good in life.
He saw only the bad, it was true. There was quite a lot of bad in life, but that wasn’t the point. The point wasn’t to escape the bad. She was so very grateful her mother had taught her this long ago. But to survive the bad and to see the best, one always had to find the joy in simply being alive.
There was a terrible beauty to this life if one could but see it, and she was going to help Gordon. So with that, she went charging into the hall.
As if the whole family, even the children, were in on this strange game to varying degrees, they all waited. Then, after a moment, she heard the rest of them peel out into the other halls, running through the house.
She almost laughed at herself.
Zephyr was right. Briarwoods didn’t cheat. They absolutely arranged. Their entire lives were about arranging things for the better. Some people just meandered through life, hoping for the best. Not her family. Her family made the best happen.
After all, that was the only way to go about this existence. Otherwise, life was a dreary wreck. So with that, she made a quick race up the stairs, then turned to the left and followed exactly where she’d been told to go.
Her heart began to pound as she spotted the linen closet. She opened the door, then snicked it shut behind her.
Gordon was standing in the dark, surrounded by shelves piled with clean cloths.
“How the devil did you find me?” he asked.
“You are very easy to read,” she tried.
He snorted. “That’s not true.”
“Fine,” she sighed. “Zephyr knew where you’d be.”
Gordon folded his arms across his chest. “What kind of game is this? How did he know?”
“He’s extremely clever,” she ventured.
He rolled his eyes. “I believe that. And you cheated.”
“No,” she rushed. “We never cheat.”
“Yes, you cheated,” he returned, but he was smiling. He eyed her slowly up and down in the dark. “And what the devil am I supposed to do with you in this tight little space…alone with me?”
“I don’t know. What are you supposed to do?” she drawled, her body coming alive at the passionate note in his voice. “A kiss?”
“You are terrible,” he groaned.
“I am,” she agreed. “Isn’t it wonderful?”
“I don’t know what to think of all this,” he confessed, holding his hand out to her. “You all are a mad lot.”
“It is the only way to live,” she teased, slipping her fingers into his hold. Oh, how she loved the touch of his hand. It zinged through her, making her feel utterly alive. Utterly safe.
“I don’t think that’s true,” he countered in a low growl. “You risk a great deal when you’re all acting mad. You risk a great deal.”
She squeezed his hand, sliding towards him, feeling his heat in the small space. “And you are not?”
She could literally feel him grinding his teeth.
“You like us,” she pointed out. “Come, admit that you do.”
“I do,” he granted. “But it’s not sustainable. I could perhaps do this for a few days, but I could never survive the lot of you for the rest of my life. And I feel like there must be a price.”
She ignored the sneaking warning in her gut that maybe all was not well. It had to be well. It was Christmas Eve, and they were alone together. So, she tilted her head back and said lightly, “You’ve thought about spending the rest of your life with us, have you?”
His silence was the answer.
“That’s enough for me right now,” Perdita replied softly.
“How?” he rumbled. “How can right now be enough?”
She let out a sigh, winding her hand with his. “You do like to plan, don’t you?”
“It’s what I’ve done my entire life.”
“Stop planning,” she said. “Where has it got you?”
He grimaced in the darkness. “You make a fair point,” he said.
“That note in your voice? We must remedy it.”
“What note?” he growled.
“The bitter one,” she stated.
“And how would you do that?”
She leaned into him, aching for him. Aching for all his sorrow to vanish. Aching for him to feel the love she knew they’d soon have together. “By giving yourself something sweet,” she replied.
And with that, out of her skirt pocket from its hidden slit, she pulled a small package of chocolates. “I did hear that you are a fan of chocolate. They are sheer perfection.”
“I confess, I thought you meant something else.”
“Ah! Of course, you are starting to think like a Briarwood,” she replied, smiling.
“Perdita,” he started to protest. But the moment he opened his mouth, she popped a chocolate in.
His brows drew together. He was perplexed and frustrated, not because it was unpleasant, but because what was happening to him was too blissful.
He let out a delicious groan.
“That’s it,” she said. And then she set her hands upon his shoulders, pulled herself up, and urged, “Kiss me. I want a little bit of chocolate too.”
“You are going to be the death of me.”
“No,” she whispered. “I’m going to be the life of you.”
Perdita did not wait another moment. She wound her fingers into his hair, pulled his head down toward her own, and kissed him. It was only a moment before his hands were winding into her own hair, and he was kissing her. His tongue tasted of chocolate. The sweet and bitter notes were the perfect mix of them.
It was a union that was always meant to be. Didn’t he understand that sweet and sweet would never go together? No. One needed the contrast to make this life worthwhile. You needed the contrast to make anything good.
And, somehow, she would make him see that.
She had to do it before it was too late. Surely, he would see it before the snow stopped. Until then, she would have to distract him with just how wonderful life could be.