Three chattering females entered the hall. The oldest called out exuberantly, “Verlaine, you rascal, what’s this about a wife?”
“Aunt Fanny!” Anthony exclaimed, giving her a big hug. Turning to the younger women, he said, “And these dazzling creatures must be my cousins Rebecca and Louisa.”
Both girls giggled, and Louisa hugged Anthony. When he emerged from her embrace, he said, “You already know my wife. She was Emma Stone, you know.”
His Aunt Fanny, actually a first cousin once removed, said in a booming voice, “Of course I remember little Emma. Not that you’re so little now.” Her gaze went over the subject of the discussion. “Pure Vaughn,” she pronounced. “Has Verlaine got you with child yet, girl?”
As Emma turned scarlet, Anthony recalled that Fanny had always been an earthy sort. Putting one arm around his wife’s shoulders, he said firmly, “Behave yourself, Aunt Fanny. We haven’t been married even a fortnight yet.”
Fanny shook her head with regret. “You should have waited and had the wedding here. Always good to have another reason to celebrate.”
The duchess intervened, saying, “We’ve never lacked for celebration, Fanny. Now let me take these young people to their room so they can freshen up.” She whisked Anthony and Emma up the sweeping stairs.
As they climbed, she said with a mischievous smile, “You’re the last to arrive. The house is packed to the rafters. As newlyweds, I’m sure you won’t mind sharing a bedroom.”
Anthony darted a look at Emma. She looked startled, and rather alarmed. That was something they’d both overlooked. With the house full, married couples were required to share quarters. Since many of them were used to having separate rooms, there were always good-natured complaints about the crowding.
They had to climb three flights of steps to reach their room. There were no less than four stops to greet other Vaughns who were coming and going along the halls and stairs. Anthony was better remembered, not only because he’d already reached adulthood on his last visits, but because he’d always been outgoing. But Emma was greeted warmly, too. The exuberant welcomes created the holiday spirit she remembered so well. Though not every member of the family loved every other member, for the next fortnight, there was goodwill enough for all.
When they reached their assigned chamber the duchess said, “Because so many guests have just arrived today, dinner will not be formal.” She smiled. “Not much changes here, you know. Tomorrow will be a formal dinner, the night after is Christmas Eve and the service in the chapel. And so it will go until the Twelfth Night ball.”
“The events might not change, but the people do,” Emma observed. “This will be my first time dining with the adults rather than at the children’s table.”
“Why, so it is. You were still in the schoolroom the last time you came for Christmas.” The duchess’s expression became grave. “Such a terrible thing, your parents’ deaths. Maman and I were sorry that you would not come to us afterward. But you obviously decided wisely, for you are blooming now.” She turned to leave. “I mustn’t keep you talking. It isn’t much more than half an hour until we dine. You remember the bell, I’m sure.”
“Who could forget it?” Anthony said feelingly. He took the duchess’s hands. “Thank you for having us here, Aunt Amelia.”
“The pleasure is mine. Family is the touchstone of life. We’re fortunate that Harley is large enough to hold so many Vaughns. I think of us as traveling through time together. There are constant changes—births, marriages, deaths—yet as a family, we are whole and healthy.” With a last smile, the duchess left.
When they were alone, Emma removed her bonnet, saying, “As a child I wished that the towers were round, not square, but this is still one of the nicest rooms in Harley.”
“We must have received it because of our status as newlyweds,” Anthony replied. With typical Harley efficiency, their baggage had already been delivered. While he and Emma had socialized, her maid and his man had done the unpacking and vanished again. The mechanics of life always flowed smoothly here.
As Anthony removed his cloak, he added, “I’m sorry you don’t have a private room. Shall I have a dressing screen brought up?”
Emma made a face. “Everyone in the household would know, and since we’re just wed, speculation would be rampant. We’ll manage well enough.”
She went to the window, where a Christmas candle burned inside a special fixture designed to protect against fire. Every afternoon during the holiday season, a servant came around to clean the fixture and put in another candle that was designed to burn until dawn in a custom that was at least 300 years old. Musingly Emma said, “I like being so high. When I was little, I would climb out on the roof and scamper around.”
“In December?” His brows arched with surprise. “You were an intrepid little thing. Roof walking can be dangerous, especially when it’s icy.”
“I only went out during mild weather, and I stopped entirely when my mother found out and made me promise not to do it again.” Gazing out at the dark landscape, she said dreamily, “I used to imagine flying off the roof and soaring over the hills.”
Anthony had an unsettling image of her lying broken and lifeless in the wintry courtyard far below, her dark hair fanned about her and a glaze of ice crystals on her face. “I’m heartily glad that you never actually tried to fly!”
“I’ve always had a firm grasp on the difference between dreams and reality. At least, I did as a child.” She turned back toward the room. “I’d forgotten how women always flutter around you. Do you ever tire of it?”
He almost passed the comment off with a light reply. But the subject was one that should not be dismissed. “I suppose women like me because I like them. I’m not particularly flirtatious, you know.”
She sighed. “I know. Just as flowers cannot help attracting honeybees, you can’t help attracting females.”
He’d always been grateful for that quality, but he understood that Emma might be less than enthused by the effects. “I can’t stop them from buzzing, but you are my wife, Emma,” he said seriously. “My one and only.”
She nodded and spoke no more on the subject, but he sensed a certain sadness in her. He hoped that she wasn’t beginning to regret her hasty marriage. He would have to try harder to make sure that she didn’t.
A raucous bell clamored through the building. Even with a closed door between them and the source of the sound, it made a shocking amount of noise. Emma jumped and Anthony winced. “The fifteen minute bell. Since it will take us easily five minutes to walk to the salon, that gives us only ten minutes to get ready.”
Emma frowned and went to the wardrobe. “Though the duchess said this wouldn’t be formal, I’ll feel better if I put on something fresh.” She took out a green gown. “Heaven only knows where Becky is. Could you help me with this, please?”