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It began snowingduring Thursday’s candlelight tour. Cara hadn’t even realized it had started snowing until she passed one of the large windows with the view of the illuminated gardens and park, and saw the thick white flakes falling on the other side of the glass. Others noticed the snow, too, with several guests joining her at the enormous arched window, watching the snow come down, turning everything a stunning white. One gentleman joked that if it snowed any harder, they’d all be spending the night. Another man missed the joke and said no, he wouldn’t stay the night. He’d rather just get on the road soon. Others didn’t seem to care, and no one but the one man without a sense of humor left early, or rushed the tour, or even rushed through the champagne at the end.
If anything, there was a great deal of laughter and celebration when they all returned to the largest reception room, which the Sherbournes referred to as the Green Salon, with the enormous tree with gold, silver, and crystal ornaments, a pair of majestic carved angels on the mantel, and the glittering chandeliers dimmed to better enjoy the champagne by candlelight. Cara and Mr. Trimble were there to welcome everyone with a glass of champagne, and the guests were chattering happily with each other, waiting for the last glass to be passed, and the first toast to be made, before drinking.
Uncle Frederick entered the room, slowly, stiffly, and after Alec welcomed everyone back from the tour, and said he hoped they had enjoyed themselves, he introduced his uncle, asking if Frederick would like to say a few words. Frederick spoke forfour or five minutes, mostly about the Sherbournes long history in Derbyshire, a history that went back about six hundred years, and how throughout the centuries, the Sherbournes had valued their close relationship with Bakewell, and then he wrapped up, and wished everyone a happy Christmas.
The guests applauded politely. Alec lifted his glass in a toast, and for the next fifteen or twenty minutes, the group talked and drank, a few returning for a refill on the champagne, and then without any nudging, amid a flurry of voices and goodbyes, the guests were bundling up and heading out, laughter ringing as they stepped out into the snowy night.
Cara stood just behind Alec at the door, aware that she was not the host, but cognizant that he might need someone available to assist should a guest forget a hat or something else and required accompanying back into the Green Salon.
But no guest returned, and the great door finally shut, and Cara exhaled with relief. She was tired, but pleased that, as far as she knew, no one had gotten lost, no one had taken a fall, and nothing had been broken. In her mind, that was a win.
She’d also been a little anxious about the champagne part, wondering if she’d manage opening all those bottles of champagne, but Mr. Trimble’s timely return had saved her there, and he’d obviously served the champagne, too, because he was wonderful and knew exactly what to do.
“I think that went very well,” Cara said, feeling the pinch of her heels and longing to be in flats, or even better, bare feet. “What do you think, Alec?”
“I agree. And the snow helped us,” he said. “Sometimes people want to linger, but not tonight. Everyone was ready to leave at seven on the dot.” He glanced at her as he began gathering empty flutes. “Still glad your friends didn’t show?”
“They’re not my friends, and I didn’t want them here. I hadn’t seen Chet since August and now two times in four days?I hope we’re done bumping into each other. I don’t need him spoiling my holiday cheer.” Cara gathered a handful of glasses, added them to the tray. “Will the snow be an issue for people getting home tonight?”
“Not now, but in the morning it could be a problem. Our country roads are fine with a light layer of snow, but traction will become an issue with a lot of snow, coupled with the freezing temperatures tonight which will coat everything with a layer of ice.” He lifted the tray and Cara went in front of him, down the corridor, opening the door leading to the kitchen.
In the back of the house, the dogs barked and from the kitchen window Cara could see Mr. Trimble outside, making sure all the cars made their way safely from Langley’s parking area.
“I can’t free the dogs until all the glasses are picked up,” Alec said.
“Let’s get the rest of them and then I’ll see what I can figure out for dinner.”
They returned to the Green Salon, filling up the remaining trays and as they carried them into the kitchen, Mr. Trimble entered through the mudroom door, carrying four large white paper bags of fragrant food.
“Dinner,” Mr. Trimble said. “It’s just arrived.”
Cara glanced at Alec.
Alec shook his head. “But I didn’t order anything,” he said.
“No,” Mr. Trimble answered. “Mr. Sherbourne, your uncle, did. He said you always like butter chicken, curry, and naan, so we had some delivered. Where would you like to eat?”
“I’m happy eating here,” Alec said. “And I’m starving. But where is Uncle Frederick?”
Cara frowned. “The last time I saw him was just after the toast in the Green Room. Maybe he’s gone to his room? I can go look for him,” she offered.
“No need,” Frederick said gruffly, carefully making his way into the kitchen. “I was just blowing out some candles. Didn’t think Langley needed a fire.”
“Thank you, Uncle Frederick,” Alec said. “That was very good of you.”
“You’re not the only Sherbourne to have grown up here.”
“You are correct, sir,” Alec said, smiling.
Mr. Trimble had drawn out the different white boxes from the paper bags and lined them up. “I’ll go walk through the house and turn off lights and bank the fires,” he said. “And then I’m heading home to join Mrs. Trimble before she gets herself worked up. She’s not a fan of the snow, and is afraid the power might go out.”
“Will it go out?” Cara asked, curious more than alarmed.
“Depends on how long it snows, and how heavy it is.” Mr. Trimble pointed to a paper bag he hadn’t unpacked. “And that one is mine and Mrs. Trimble’s. Curry, pakora, and paneer—so no bright ideas.”
Cara, Alec, and Uncle Frederick ate dinner around the island counter in the kitchen, with the three dogs in front of the fireplace at the far end. It was such a comfortable kitchen for one so large, with its own cozy sitting area near the hearth.
After he was done eating, Uncle Frederick said good night. He was tired from the long day and after a brief nod of his head, went to his room for the night.
