Page 99 of One More Christmas at the Castle
‘We can buttry, darling, though of course, I can’t answer for what’s going on in Xan’s head!’
Somewhat shaken by this conversation, I retired to the kitchen to make a start on tonight’s main course.
But for once, I found it hard to concentrate on my cooking, because the conversation with Henry had disturbed me so much – not to mention forcing me to admit to myself that, at some point and without realizing it, I’d slipped from friendship into love with Xan …
I suppose it was hardly surprising that I should fall in love with him, but I couldn’t believe that he felt the same way about me …
With an effort, I finally managed to focus my mind back on the job in hand: you can’t make arouxwithout giving it your full attention.
Luckily, Henry had finished his green-fingered magic well before dinner and called me in to admire his creations.
The cloakroom was festooned with long ropes of greenery, looped over the coat hooks or laid out along the pasting table, while the Mistletoe Bough leaned against one wall, like an overgrown and bushy wreath.
‘Good, aren’t they?’ he said with immodest – but perfectly justified – pride. ‘And I’ve had alovelyidea: why don’t we put them up later, when the ladies have retired to bed? Xan can help us.’
‘That’s a really nice idea,’ I agreed. ‘I’ll ask Xan in a bit, when he comes in to feed Plum – but meanwhile, you’d better close the door, hadn’t you?’
‘True,’ he said, coming out and shutting the door behind him. ‘I don’t want Plum cocking his leg against my Mistletoe Bough!’
And so it was that very late that evening, when the house had sunk into quietness, we emerged from the staff sitting room, where we’d been whiling away the time by watching a dark Christmas movie calledKrampus, and sneaked into the Great Hall.
The two men held the ends of long ropes of foliage betweenthem, like hairy green sea serpents, while I had the Mistletoe Bough hung around my neck and carried a box of smaller swags and garlands.
We had to make a couple of trips before everything was assembled on the tiled floor, including the stepladders.
Plum pattered to and fro with us, in an interested but puzzled manner, before finally flopping on to the end of a rug and watching from there.
Fortunately, despite Henry’s fears, he’d showed no signs of cocking his leg against anything, even when I leaned the Bough against the table.
Creeping upstairs like burglars, carrying their rustling burden, Henry and Xan attached the long garlanded ropes to the banisters up the first two flights of stairs, though I could only see the lower end of the top one, where it turned.
When they came down, Henry handed me a box of red velvet bows on wire picks.
‘Here, you pin one of those at the bottom of each swag, all the way up the stairs, while we start on the rest.’
I’m not very artistic, but even I could manage that, and then I watched Henry as he added a few more finishing touches to his arrangements along the mantelpieces before, finally, adorning the copper and brass diving helmets with small wreaths of gilded bay leaves.
‘I wondered what those were for,’ I whispered, though the tower was so solidly built that I don’t suppose Mrs Powys or Nancy would have been woken if we’d shouted.
‘Just the Mistletoe Bough to attach now, and we’re done,’ Xan said, looking up at the cartwheel-sized wooden light fitting that hung from the centre of the ceiling.
‘There are hooks underneath it – Mrs Powys was right. I’veput cord loops all the way round the top of the Bough, so it’s just a question of looping them on.’
I thought it would probably be a lot trickier than he made it sound! And there were a few heart-stopping moments when Henry held the ladder, while Xan struggled to attach the wreath, but at last it was done and the bunces of mistletoe hung down from it, like strange herbs drying on a rack.
‘It lookssobaronial and medieval in here now, doesn’t it?’ said Henry. ‘I expect the Lord of Misrule to prance in at any moment with a bladder on a stick, and smite us all.’
‘Perhaps one of the guests might oblige,’ I suggested with a grin.
‘It’s some time since I’ve seen the Mellings, or Lucy’s brother, Nigel, but I can’t quite see any of them in the role,’ Xan said gravely. ‘I seem to remember Dominic Melling was a bit of a joker when he was a boy, but he’s a dentist now, so I should think he’s put all that behind him.’
‘I don’t think we want any misrule anyway,’ I said, looking up at the circle of greenery above me. ‘Just peace and harmony.’
‘I am the Christmas Fairy, and your wish shall be granted!’ said Henry, striking a pose, then kissed me under the Bough.
‘There, we’ve christened it – happy Christmas, darling!’
‘Happy Christmas, Henry,’ I said.
