Page 2 of Twelve Drummers Drumming

Jemima was not so sure about that. Though Esther and Lucy were certainly not flirts, a terrible accusation for any young lady, heads would turn to follow those flame-colored tresses now they had been let loose in Bath society.

She alone had the coloring of her father, a light brown, seemingly washed out amongst the dazzling sight of her sisters.

Now they were a household of six daughters—something their father had failed to consider at the time of their births—it was all too easy to become lost in the noise.

It had mattered little when they were children. There was always someone shouting, someone who had scraped a knee, someone who was sobbing over their embroidery.

Now they were young ladies and had scandalized Society by permitting Caroline, Jemima, Arabella, and Esther to all be out together.

Gentlemen at clubs had shaken their heads, and ladies had tutted at Almack’s. At least, that was what Jemima had heard.

With so many ladies at home, the gossip was that Arthur Fitzroy was unable to keep his women in order…

Jemima’s eyes flickered around the room. The November evening was dark, but there were red candles with gold ribbons around them affixed all around the room where the family had gathered.

Advent Sunday, the day Christmas excitement truly began.

Holly and ivy had been placed around the room by Mrs. Castle, their housekeeper, ready for the festive season. Wreaths of the same were adorning all doors in their London home, and there was even a bunch of mistletoe hanging in the hallway for unsuspecting visitors, something Jemima certainly did not approve of.

Her father was still talking to the happy couple. “Oh, Walsingham, such wonderful news! Tell me, how precisely…”

Jemima sighed at she looked at them all. After waiting all day for his attention, she had only just started to speak with her father when the family had trooped in, led by Caroline, who apparently had news to share. Now the moment had passed.

Dr. Stuart Walsingham had seemingly forgotten to release her stepsister. She was clasped to his side, a gaggle of her sisters gathered around her.

“Oh, Caroline,” breathed Sophia, “it is too much to believe! You and Dr. Walsingham—engaged! Indeed, I cannot believe it!”

Sophia was the youngest of the family at only thirteen, and her wide eyes confirmed her disbelief. She, too, had the red hair that all of Selina’s children had inherited, and as Jemima looked around the room, the candlelight illuminated her sisters Caroline and Sophia until their hair gleamed burgundy.

Caroline beamed at Sophia and held out her left hand. On her finger sat a gold band with a large diamond, throwing sparkles of light around the room.

“My word,” Sophia said, reaching out and tilting her sister’s hand so the diamond glittered, “Dr. Walsingham has bought you an engagement ring! Only the very finest people are doing so you know, ’tis the height of fashion.”

Circles of light were flashing around the room as Caroline’s engagement ring sparkled, and Jemima blinked as it shone into her eyes.

When her vision returned, her gaze fell on her stepmother, blinking back tears. Caroline had always been Selina’s favorite. She appeared almost overcome with joy and pride as she gazed at her daughter.

Caroline had only laughter as her reply to the cries of joy from her family. Her face shone with happiness, and she turned her head to smile at the man she had promised to spend the rest of her life with.

On the other side of the room, nearer where Jemima was sitting, sat Arabella. Just a few years shy of Jemima’s twenty-one, Arabella had been present at almost all of the occasions when Caroline and Dr. Walsingham had met. Her discussion with her father was on the wedding and exactly who should be invited.

“The Coleridges, of course,” Arabella said seriously. Her face was generally serious, Jemima reminded herself, and it was not necessarily a sign of disapproval. However much Jemima might wish it. “And the Halls, we must not forget them.”

“I do not believe that we shall have the final say, you know,” said Sophia slowly with a smile from across the room. Sophia had a love of teasing and found Arabella a frequently unwitting victim. “Perhaps we shall have to ensure all the blacksmiths in town are in attendance, or station a large bear near the altar.”

Arabella stared wide-eyed at her sister until the laughter of Sophia and their father told her that she was once again subject to her sister’s ridicule. Ruffled, but unsurprised at her sister’s teasing, she smoothed down her gown and averted her gaze from her family’s laughter. Standing slowly, she moved over to sit beside Jemima.

“It is such a wonderful piece of news, is it not?” Arabella said gently.

Jemima smiled. “I know our parents are certainly pleased. I just wish that I could have brought them such happiness.”

“Fie, Jemima,” scolded Arabella softly as the rest of their family continued their laughter. “You know Papa is immensely proud of you, for many reasons.”

“Name one,” Jemima said dully. “Name just one, and I shall be satisfied. He is so ashamed of my pacifism that he has tried to make me promise not to attend any rallies!”

Arabella opened her mouth, hesitated, then closed it. She looked at her half-sister pityingly, something Jemima loathed. But what could she say? How to explain to her sisters just how…how alone she felt in this crowd?

“Do not ask me to name a particular time, or a particular place, that his pride in you has been demonstrated,” Arabella said quietly under the general hubbub of the room. “You know my memory does not serve me as well as yours, and I am sure—”

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