Page 47 of Finding Harmony (Trade Wind 2)

Chapter Twelve

Martin Vogel’s home was brimming with Christmas cheer, the scents of pine and baked gingerbread…and noise.

Lots of noise.

Molly sat in a chair off to the side of the parlor, happily cuddling one-month-old Albert as he slept through the cacophony around them. The babe’s four siblings, four of his five cousins, andOnkelFrederick all kneeled on the carpet around the spinning top, the children shouting and squealing.

Little Herbert, a seven-year-old with the eyes of a sage, had taken the discarded wrapping paper from the refurbished toy and sat alone on the stairs, smoothing out all the crinkles.

Martin had moved the room’s low table, settee, and chairs to make room for the spinning contest, turns rotating amongst the children by age. Even one-year-old Harriet had wanted to take part, though her contribution had consisted essentially of throwing the green-and-blue striped wooden top at Frederick’s shin.

Mary, Walter’s wife, sat down next to Molly, smiling down at her sleeping nephew. After their Christmas lunch feast, Martin’s wife Eliza was resting upstairs.

Molly was surprised but grateful that Mary made no commentaries on having babes, not even as she looked warmly upon how she held this newborn so tenderly. Frederick’s family had immediately offered their wholehearted congratulations on their betrothal, welcoming Molly into the fold.

With time, however, would they wonder why Molly never landed in the family way?

Mary looked meaningfully from where her husband Walter sat with Martin on the settee to Frederick on the carpet.

“Three brothers. Three different but good men.”

Molly nodded, smiling philosophically. All three shared similar coloring but there ended the similarities. Martin, the oldest and tallest, was lanky and moved energetically. Walter had kind eyes, laughed often, had an unhurried air, and ate and drank with enthusiasm. He shifted on the settee now, holding his ample belly.

“Ursula, their mother, used to say that three very different storks delivered her sons.” She laughed quietly. “I believe five different storks have visited my home!” After glancing over at the stairway, she tilted her head. “Perhaps Frederick and my Herbert were carried in the beak of the same stork.”

Molly smiled, glad to hear the warm tone with which Mary spoke. “I greatly enjoyed meeting your Herbert. He kindly helped me with the lyrics to ‘Alle’…”

“‘Alle Jahre wieder.’ That’s his favorite. I also heard him explaining how a piano works. In detail. You were quite patient with him, and I thank you.”

“Oh! He’s adelight. Perhaps one day he’ll apprentice with his uncle.” Molly looked to Frederick now, who had moved to sit on the edge of the carpet.

He’d removed his coat but still looked well turned out for Christmas in the claret-colored waistcoat he’d worn to the concert, and his white stand-up collar and cravat were as crisp as when they’d arrived.

“Perhaps he will. Hmm. Have a look at Frederick’s eyes now.”

Molly squinted. Though he’d scooted only a few feet from the children, his gaze looked distant. “Is it a megrim?”

“Not yet, but he’s at risk. He’s reached his limit—his sponge is soaked.” When Molly turned to her with a frown, Mary smiled and explained. “Ursula taught me that. When his megrims started as a boy, she’d soak a sponge with cool water and vinegar for his head. One day, she realizedhewas a sponge in a world of stones. He absorbs a great deal more from his surroundings and becomes too full.”

“Oh!Yes, that is Frederick.”

“Herbert, too. Look at him now.”

The wrapping paper lay abandoned on a stair next to the boy, who sat with his hands over his ears, eyes squeezed shut.

The babe in Molly’s arms went rigid for a moment, his face twisting as he cried out. Then just as suddenly, he slackened, his expression peaceful again as he slept on.

“Let me take Albert, lest he soil your pretty gown. And please take no offense, for I wish you could stay longer, but it might be best for Frederick to leave soon.”

Molly almost blushed at the reminder of her fancy style of dress. Frederick had expressed one more Christmas wish—that she wear her concert gown.

After transferring the babe to Mary, Molly tugged her practical shawl tighter around her. If anyone else thought it odd to pair such a gown with something so plain, they didn’t show it.

Within minutes, she and Frederick were on their way. He’d nodded gratefully when she tentatively suggested they take their leave, and his family had been both understanding and wholly unsurprised by his departure.

“That was a rather long visit,” he admitted once they were outside. It was a short walk from Martin’s small residential street to a thoroughfare where they could hail a hansom cab. “My habit is to visit for an hour and fifteen minutes. Longer on Christmas, of course.”

“An hour and fifteen minutes, that’s very precise.”

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