Page 89 of One More Christmas at the Castle
Henry said he could still whip around the bedrooms and bathrooms on his own, seeing as there was only one extra guest, so once breakfast was cleared, I set to and started making my Christmas tree biscuits.
It felt as if I’d barely got going before Henry was back! Nancy had appeared and insisted on helping him, while Sabine was recording her session with Xan.
Nancy herself pushed open the baize door and asked, ‘May I come in? I don’t want to disturb you, if you’re busy.’
‘Of course – you’re welcome in the kitchen any time,’ I said, and she came in eagerly, as if not wanting to waste a moment of precious time.
‘Sabine has an appointment in Hexham this morning and I’ll drive her. That sports car of hers would be perishing cold, even with the hood up! But we’ll be back for lunch – I thought I’d better tell you. And now Lucy’s officially on holiday and a free agent, she’s going to spend the day in Wallstone with her friend Daphne, helping put up the church Nativity scene.’
‘That’s fine – thank you for letting me know.’
‘And thank you for helpingmewith my morning chores,’ Henry said.
‘I do love to be busy!’ She beamed impartially at us both, pink cheeks glowing and misty, blue-grey eyes shining, then turned and trotted off again.
‘I’ll get my coat and then bring her car round to the front,’ Henry said, though I thought he just wanted an excuse to drive it, because he seemed really taken with it.
‘You couldn’t put snowboards on top of a Beetle,’ I warned him. ‘It wouldn’t be practical for you.’
‘I’vedefinitelyseen one with a rack of surfboards on top,’ he protested. ‘And how did you know I was thinking of getting one?’
‘To me, you are entirely transparent.’
‘Not entirely, I sincerely hope – like a jellyfish with all my insides on display.’
‘What a horrid thought,’ I said as he went out, shrugging into his anorak.
But I expected he’d get one – and once we’d wound the business down, we wouldn’t need the big van any more. The end of an era.
I still wasn’t sure what I’d do with myself after that … but something new.
The star-shaped biscuits were cooling on racks, and I’d just taken out a tray of thick gingerbread pigs when Xan came in as if the smell of baking had summoned him, Plum at his heels.
‘Gingerbread!’ he said, heading for the biscuits like a homing pigeon, but I fended him off.
‘Those are for the tree, hands off! These gingerbread pigs are for you, though, so you can have one of those, if you want to.’
‘You made them specially for me? And are you insinuating I’m a pig?’ he said, but took one all the same.
‘I found the cutter and thought it was fun,’ I said. ‘I made them for you, really, but I thought perhaps they might amuse Mrs Powys and Nancy if I send some in with their afternoon tea tomorrow. There won’t be any tea today, because you’re having mulled wine and mince pies in the Great Hall, while the tree decorating is going on.’
‘I think they’d love the gingerbread pigs, which will take them right back to their childhoods,’ he said, then demonstrated that he hadn’t entirely left his yet, by taking a great bite of the one he was holding.
‘Oh, scrumptious!’ he said, when he could speak again. ‘I don’t suppose you’d entertain my proposal of marriage, any more than you did Hector’s?’
‘No,’ I said sedately. ‘Not when it’s cupboard love.’
Plum stared at the open box of bone biscuits on the counter and barked imperatively.
‘You, too,’ I told him.
‘If you’ve finished baking, there’s time to go and skate on the lake, if you fancy it?’ he suggested. ‘Unless you’re doing something really complicated for lunch?’
‘No, just eggs Benedict. Apparently it’s one of Nancy’s favourite dishes.’
‘Then why not come and try skating with me?’
I looked at him dubiously, remembering the one and only occasion on which I’d gone to an ice rink with friends and spent most of my time lying on my back, like a dying beetle.
