AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Chapter Eleven
On Christmas Eve, Frederick spent time in the Robertsons’ kitchens for the second time in his life. Unlike his first visit, from his very first step into the room, he felt assured that he would know happiness there.
All twenty-two women and men in service at the London residence of the Robertsons gathered to begin their yuletide celebrations. Evergreen garlands graced the hearth and stretched around the pot racks. Clusters of ivy and holly ran along the large kitchen table. In a nod to the festivities, an unusually large number of tapers burned around the room, including amongst the evergreen leaves.
Frederick blinked in disbelief at the sight of the ever serious butler, Pulley, wearing a wreath of holly around his head, serving teacups full of negus to all. While Frederick rather enjoyed the taste of port, he limited himself to one cup of the hot Christmas drink lest it invite a megrim.
As he sipped the orange-and-cinnamon-spiced wine, he pretended to listen to Mrs. Taylor recounting her negotiations at the market for the goose that would be served tomorrow.
He nodded every so often as she spoke, but his eyes repeatedly strayed to Molly, her brown eyes soft and glowing tonight.Shedidn’t appear agitated in the slightest, and for that he was grateful, even if his own nerves were frayed.
When would be the proper time to propose marriage? In changing the plan, he’d thought only to hasten their betrothal, thinking it the best Christmas gift they could exchange. But he’d failed to take into account the lack of privacy during the gathering.
Mrs. Taylor was still talking, her cheeks unusually reddened.
Likely from her second cup of negus rather than the heat from the hearth.
Would she be inclined to consent to a few minutes of unchaperoned time? Perhaps if he explained in advance that it was for the honorable purpose of proposing marriage?
Yes, that’s what he’d do, he’d pull Mrs. Taylor aside and—
“Mr. Vogel,” the woman intoned, pulling him from his thoughts. “The time to carol is upon us. I don’t think Lady Clara would mind if we retired briefly to the music room for that purpose if you’d be willing to play the piano for us?”
He’d no sooner replied in the affirmative than she rapped a large spoon against the wooden table and made the announcement. She instructed everyone to pick up a taper and make their way upstairs.
Molly beamed when he offered his arm.
“Will you stand close to the piano,” he requested, “that I might hear your lovely voice?”
“You like the squeaks of a mouse?”
“I’ve heard you sing, Molly. Have you forgotten? It’s more angel than mouse.”
“A jest.” They climbed the stairs together. “I wish I could hear you sing tonight, but we’ll be graced by your playing.”
“You’ll hear me tonight—I’ll join in even as I play. You’ll hear me again tomorrow with my family. We enjoy singing together a great deal.” He smiled, knowing for certain that Molly’s mezzo-soprano voice would blend admirably. “Often it’s in German, but with time, you’ll learn the lyrics, and we sing in English, too.”
“Perhaps your nieces and nephews can assist me beforehand in learning some of the words.”
It was hope and joy as much as their feet that lifted them both to the ground floor and transported them to the music room. Frederick felt as though he was floating on a cloud of fortune and happiness.
Molly and her colleagues gathered close around the piano as he played, much like a family. It gladdened Frederick to find the instrument quite close to being in perfect tune still, though he couldn’t help but notice the B-flat major triad sounded slightly off.
Everyone save Thomas knew the words to all the carols, and when the boy would have slinked away, Molly took him by the hand and pulled him close. It was his first Christmas in the household, and by the looks of it, he sometimes didn’t know what to do with all the happiness.
I know how you feel, lad.
When they returned to the kitchens afterwards, Alvin called out. “Snapdragon!”
Frederick suppressed as best he could any hint of his disdain for the traditional Christmas Eve game and stayed by Molly’s side.
“Will you join them?” Mrs. Taylor asked him, indicating in the direction of the table. A maid was counting raisins to add to the large dish already filled with brandy.
“No, thank you.”
“You’ve more sense than all of them combined,” the housekeeper murmured. In a louder voice, she addressed the servants who’d gathered around the table. “I’ve unguent ready to apply to your burns, but expect no more than that and a touch of sympathy from me! There will be no modifications to your duties if you choose to play!”
“Yes, Mrs. Taylor,” they replied in a chorus.
