“I didn’t did dat!” #3
“Merry Green Yule, Mr. Grimm,” Eugenia said and offered him a bottle of sparkling wine which sported the sort of price tag which wouldn’t make a steel heiress bat an eye, but which made Nigel perform a double-take.
“Is Mrs. Witch about? I am so hoping for a reading before the party gets started. I simply must know if I’m to take the train to Iskaran or travel by riverboat.
Sutton prefers the train, while Mr. Bellamy here says riverboat, but what does he know, the old bean? ”
“Very little, I’m sure,” the good-natured old bean smiled.
“Luna is in the kitchen,” Nigel said. “She should be back shortly. I’ll just go pop the kettle on.”
He started for the back passage, but the shop bells tinkled again, and he paused to call out a greeting to Mrs. Whimsley, a vision of billowy purple which clashed rather horribly with all the green-and-red seasonal décor.
She was followed closely by the street fiddler, who quietly took up residence in the corner by the Winter’s Heart Tree and began scraping out a tune almost at once.
The shop filled up swiftly from there. Too swiftly, truth be told.
There shouldn’t, by rights, be enough room for all of these guests, particularly not once the Countess Claudine d’Ackerley, her husband, and their brood of six little ones arrived, each carrying a toy horse in their chubby hands.
But Nigel had long ago worked subtle magic on the shop—Green Magic, not sorcery.
Just enough to add a little expansion of reality here, a little warping of essential modalities there.
Nothing anyone would notice, and certainly nothing that would concern the SSSD.
But it created space where there should be none, and no one ended up either crowded or overheated.
Mrs. Goddard appeared with spice cake in hand and no sign of Tobias, thank the Green Mother.
The boy had made good on his promise to go up north and work with his elder brother, and hadn’t been seen in Ballycastle for an age.
Mrs. Goddard had kept herself quite cheerfully occupied, embroidering smocks and baby bonnets for Nigel and Luna’s little brood, and didn’t seem to miss him too badly.
Luna appeared from the back of the shop at last, Baby Tea in her arms, and began greeting all her Silly Young Things.
The dancing began soon after. Suella brought her portable, and the street fiddler seemed to take this as a personal challenge.
The blend of live and thaumatic music certainly made for a merry noise.
It was all quite festive and more than a little chaotic.
“Lunaloo!” Bryony Braithwait’s voice burst upon the scene, and a vision of magenta curls bustled her way through the crowd, dragging a stoutish man by the suspender strap behind her.
“Hullo, Bryony! Hullo, JoeJoe!” Luna saluted her former roommate with a sideways hug, keeping the baby angled so she couldn’t grab at dangling earrings or brightly-colored locks. “Merry Green Yule!”
“Merry is right!” Bryony declared and flashed her ring finger, where something large and gaudy glittered. “Or should I say, marry? Would you believe it? JoeJoe popped the question at last!”
“Oh, Bryony!” Luna hugged her again, squeezing tightly. “I’m so happy for you!”
“I know, I shall be quite an old married woman like yourself by this time next year. But tonight, I mean to dance!” So saying, Bryony grabbed her fellow and dragged him to the dance floor, declaring, “Let’s show these fools how it’s done!
” She then proceeded to do just that, with or without JoeJoe’s help.
He mostly stood by and admired while his fiancée did her thing.
Which she did. With tremendous enthusiasm.
Nigel rather wished she might save some of that enthusiasm for after the children had gone to bed, but, well, that was Bryony for you.
He reached his wife at last through the throng.
She’d taken up residence behind the counter for a little breathing space, and he joined her there.
First claiming the baby from her arms, he then slipped a hand around her waist and drew her to him.
Luna rested her head on his shoulder and sighed happily. “No Uncle Fabian tonight?” she queried.
Nigel shook his head. “He’s off to the Phrigidos Isles again, like he does every Green Yule. Seems he just can’t get enough of that whale blubber after all.”
She giggled. And his heart turned over and burst into a cloud of bubbles. Like it always did when she giggled like that.
“And no Ward the Wardsman?” Nigel observed after a little while, noting another absence in the throng.
“Edwina is taking him home to meet her folks for the holiday,” Luna replied promptly.
“Poor Edwina’s folks.”
“Oh, stop!” Luna smacked him in the shoulder. “Ward is a perfectly respectable man. Do you know he made captain recently? He’s much better than the chaps Edwina usually strings along. I think they’ll be very happy.”
Nigel suspected they probably would be. For about two more months.
He wouldn’t bet on it lasting much longer than that.
Ward never did seem to find anyone who could make him settle down.
As far as Nigel knew, he’d not been serious about a girl since proposing to Luna seven years go.
But then, how could Ward be expected to recover from such a loss?
Nigel’s arm tightened a little more firmly around his wife. She looked up at him, one eyebrow lifting. “What are you smirking about?”
“I’m not smirking.”
“You most definitely are.”
“I’ve never smirked in my life.”
“Then what is that smug expression I see wreathing your handsome face?”
“The glow of seasonal goodwill?”
She nestled her head back against his shoulder. “You’re smirking.”
He was. But he didn’t really care. And he certainly didn’t plan to stop.
They watched the party for a little while, smiling and nodding and calling out occasional greetings. “Where are the children?” Luna asked after a bit.
Nigel pointed out Loni, who sat with the aunties at their table, Debbie still perched on her head. She appeared to be sipping milk from a sherry glass.