Amethyst (46 page)

"It's beautiful!"

"Wait till you see inside," Colin promised drolly. "Kendra quite outdoes herself this time of year." But he was smiling, clearly caught up in the Christmas spirit despite himself.

Indoors, the monotone, cream-hued stone hall was asplash with red and green. Winter foliage and red ribbon twisted around the gray handrail, marching up the stairs and across the balcony at the top. Hundreds of beeswax candles sat at intervals, waiting to be lit when darkness fell. Cloth of gold swagged lavishly between the columns, held in place with enormous red bows.

Amy paused on the threshold, aghast at the splendor, and Colin seized the opportunity to kiss her, reaching overhead to pull a berry off the mistletoe afterward.

"Ah, our bride and groom," Kendra called, coming down the stairs. "Thank God you've arrived. Our mistletoe's been sadly neglected this season."

"We can remedy that situation." Colin gave Amy another light kiss and removed another berry.

Moments later, the brothers appeared. They both had resounding kisses for Amy, and the mistletoe was relieved of two more berries. Then Kendra claimed a kiss from Colin, albeit a mite more brotherly, and another berry was plucked.

"That's more like it." Kendra grinned, looking up. "At this rate, it'll be bare before evening!"

"HEY, DOWN HERE!"

Amy looked down from the wall walk to see Kendra waving frantically and Jason and Ford toting a large saw between them. Colin laughed at the question in her eyes. "Come, love, we're going to cut the Yule Log," he said as he beckoned her to follow him down.

Spirits high, the five of them trudged outside the castle walls and into the bordering forest. Much good-natured arguing followed, as each claimed to have discovered the largest tree trunk. Teasing laughter pealed through the fragrant woods until Jason, as usual the peacemaker, swept off his cloak and shivered stoically while they used it as a crude measuring device.

Amy's tree was the winner. Her cheeks bright with the flush of victory, she watched the Chase men struggle manfully to cut it down. At last it fell, with a resounding crash and a great cheer from all. They cut a long chunk from the thickest part, which Amy eyed incredulously, considering they'd brought no cart or horse.

"How will we get it back to Cainewood?" she asked Jason.

"We'll manage." Beneath their cloaks, Jason and Ford both had lengths of rope coiled about their waists, which they unwound and tied around the colossal log, creating six long looped handles to pull it by. "Can you and Kendra handle the saw?"

"Of course, but must the log be so big?"

"Tradition says it will be a good year if we can keep it smoldering through Twelfth Night." Ford made a small grunt as he tugged a knot tight. "The bigger, the better."

"But that couldn't possibly fit in the fireplace."

Colin's laughter rang through the trees. "Don't be such a worrywart, love. We've done this a time or two."

"Hmmph." Tilting her nose in the air, she moved to help Kendra with the heavy saw. "You're the one who has to carry it, not me."

Kendra hurried Amy ahead while the men struggled behind. "Everything is all set," she whispered. "When it's time, a maid will come to your room and escort you to a chamber downstairs, where several footmen will be on hand to help."

"I cannot wait," Amy said with a conspiratorial smile. "Thank you so much."

"I cannot wait, either!"

Despite the frosty air, the men were covered with a thin sheen of sweat by the time they managed to haul the log to the front door. They needed the help of three additional men to lift it over the threshold and carry it into the great hall.

"Careful, the floor!" Kendra warned. "It's just been polished."

In fact, the servants were not quite finished: at the far end they were still spreading the milk that would dry to a high sheen. Amy gawked at the buzz of activity. From the planked floor to the intricate oak hammerbeam ceiling, the immense great hall swarmed with workers. Paintings were dusted, tapestries cleaned and rehung on the stone walls. Servants chatted excitedly as they brought in heavy, ancient trestle tables and set them with row after row of trenchers and cutlery.

"What's happening?" Amy asked, one eye on the men struggling to get the log into the enormous fireplace.

Kendra crossed her arms and tapped a foot disapprovingly. "Didn't Colin tell you about Christmas at Cainewood?"

"For God's sake, Kendra," Colin called across the chamber. "We've been wed but three weeks. Did you think we'd be spending our time talking about family traditions?"

Amy felt heat flush her face, but the others laughed until she was prompted to a smile. "Is there to be an entertainment tonight?"

"Tomorrow. All the castle retainers, tenants, and villagers will come for Christmas dinner, complete with gifts for everyone." Kendra waved a hand expansively. "Isn't it glorious? I love Christmas!"

Amy laughed. "I love Christmas, too. I missed it during the Commonwealth."

"May Cromwell roast in hell." Kendra wiped her tongue and spit. "That I should even say such an evil name. Eleven years with no Christmas… Look, Amy, it fit!" She clapped her hands.

The log snugged in the fireplace with room to spare. The brothers were remarkably well behaved, throwing nothing more than a few gloating glances in Amy's direction.

"You told me so!" she said for them with a giggle, and their answering laughter echoed in the cavernous hall.

"Food." Colin wiped his palms on his breeches. "After all that work, a man needs food."

"Christmas Eve supper awaits," Kendra announced.

In contrast to the great hall, the private family dining room seemed small and intimate, the air suffused with savory scents that made Amy's mouth water. Colin loaded her plate with clove-studded turkey, Yorkshire Christmas pie, artichoke bottoms and potatoes in pastry, spinach tart, and one of the new French rolls. Kendra started with a slice of almond cheesecake, a wedge of pumpkin pie, and an apple taffety tart.

"Kendra, Kendra." Jason heaved a good-natured sigh. "Pumpkin pie when there's Yorkshire pie on the table?" He spooned up a bite, the hearty crust filled with a mixture of turkey, goose, partridge, pigeon, hare and woodcock, all swimming in butter. "When will you grow up?"

"Buttered ale?" Kendra said sweetly, ignoring him as she poured a dipperful from the huge, ivy-garlanded wassail bowl that dominated the table. She floated a square of brown toast on top and handed the cup to Amy.

"Thank you." Amy sniffed deep of the hot ale, mulled with beaten eggs, sugar, spices and the pulp of roasted apples. When she took a sip, it warmed her to her very bones. "It's so lovely here," she said, thinking of Christmases past in the single room her family had used for cooking, eating, and socializing. "A different world. Look at the firelight dancing on the beveled windows."

"It doesn't hold a candle to the sparkling of your eyes." Colin reached for another roll. "Or the blush on your cheeks," he added with a laugh.

When everyone had crammed in the last possible bite, they all walked to the great hall with many competing groans of regretted gluttony. There they lit the Yule Log and sang the traditional Christmas carols, with Kendra accompanying on the harpsichord, which had been moved into the hall for the occasion.

The five of them were dwarfed by the enormous chamber, but warm and merry, clustered at one end with the fire burning cheerfully. When they ran out of songs, they opened their gifts.

Jason's serious face split into a smile when he saw his pearl cravat pin, and he put it on immediately. Kendra slipped the emerald ring on her finger and declared it her favorite piece of jewelry. Ford disappeared upstairs after opening his gift, returning with his new jeweled hatband adorning a fashionable wide-brimmed hat, which he wore the rest of the evening.

Amy couldn't have been more pleased.

Kendra's gift to Amy was a large assortment of shoes, stockings, ribbons, and nightgowns—the latter so sheer that Amy blushed when she unwrapped them. Colin made her stand up and display each one, finally declaring that he supposed she would be allowed to wear nightclothes after all, so long as she kept her selection limited to
these
.

His disarming smile and appraising gaze told her they wouldn't stay on for long.

Jason had wrapped up the history books Amy had left piled on the mosaic table in his library, and she clutched them to her chest in delight. Ford presented her with a selection of hard-milled scented soaps, floral bath oils, and French perfumes that had Colin wondering aloud at why such a gift would come from his
brother
—until Amy playfully punched him in the stomach. He doubled over, in laughter, not pain, and Amy couldn't remember when she'd had as much fun.

After everyone's gifts had been opened—a long proceeding, as each individual present was passed around and properly admired—Jason called for the plum porridge.

Amy groaned. "I cannot eat another bite."

"Oh, but you must have a serving." Kendra scooped a healthy dollop and plopped it in Amy's bowl. "Hidden within it are tokens that foretell of the year to come."

Colin's bowl held the first prize, a silver penny, predicting a fortune in the offing. "I've fortune enough for a lifetime already," he declared in a chivalrous tone, his gaze fastened on Amy.

The others laughed as Amy slowly turned red.

"Oh, no." Jason pulled a ring from his mouth, rolling his eyes as he licked it clean. "This should be Kendra's, surely."

They all laughed again.

"What does it mean?" Amy asked.

"It's a sign of marriage," Kendra explained. "Ah, the thimble!" She placed it on a fingertip, flashing an angelic smile. "A life of blessedness."

"When are you joining the convent?" Ford chortled.

She threw the thimble at his head, and obligingly he doubled over, moaning loud and long in a show of great pain.

"Well, so much for the tokens," Colin announced when Ford's act was over.

"Thank God." Amy set down her bowl.

"Aren't you going to finish it?"

She shook her head. "I've had enough," she said quietly. "I'm really not feeling too well." Kendra glanced up, and Amy threw her a surreptitious wink. "I think I should go to bed," she said to Colin.

He shot up at once and placed a hand on her forehead. "You're not feverish," he reported, visibly relieved. "But if you feel ill, then of course we must go to bed."

"But the games…" Ford protested.

"What games?" Amy asked innocently, finishing with a weak cough for effect.

"We always play games on Christmas Eve, charades and the like, until the wee hours." Grasping her hand, Colin pulled her up and put a protective arm around her. "But that was before one of us was married. Besides, your health is more important."

He started moving her toward the door.

"You must stay and play, Colin. It's only fatigue, I'm certain, and overeating and a bit too much buttered ale—though it was all delicious." Amy sighed prettily and placed a delicate hand on her abdomen.

Unfortunately, Colin proved to be overly solicitous. The best they could do was convince him to see her to bed and then return for the games.

He undressed her himself, pulled one of her new nightgowns over her head, then stood back to judge the effect.

He gave a low whistle. "Are you certain you're ill, love?"

"Quite certain." She forced another cough and clutched at her stomach. "Leave now, please, before I embarrass myself in front of you." She climbed into the bed, moaning softly to demonstrate her illness. "Could you put the chamber pot beside me before you go?"

"Sickness is nothing to be embarrassed about," he assured her. With a small thud, he deposited the chamber pot on the bedside table. "Are you sure you don't want me to stay?"

"I'm positively sure. Go enjoy the games." When he hesitated as though not quite convinced, she added, "If you'll but let me rest, Colin,
alone
, when you return in a few hours I'm certain to be feeling better."

"Well…"

"
Much
better," she repeated meaningfully.

She watched his eyes light up before she rolled away with a groan and pulled the covers over her head.