Christmas Delights Read Free Page B

“Anyone from the neighborhood?”
    “The earl’s family, of course, the Gills. He has two sisters, his mother, and an aunt, I believe. A family called Dickondell,” Victoria said.
    Rose glanced up from her apple dumpling. “It’s a large family.”
    “Ah. I only knew the name. Are you acquainted?”
    “Yes. They are related to Hatbrook’s family.”
    Victoria nodded. “My father will be coming. Honestly, I’m not sure who else. Are there Dickondell men who might marry some of the earl’s sisters?”
    Rose smiled. “There are definitely Dickondell men. Three sons, two of marriageable age. This is the Earl of Bullen? Why have I never met him?”
    “I know the answer to that,” Matilda said. “He’s a scientific man, like Lewis. Awkward in company. He came to call with his mother and sisters once, shortly after we’d moved here. Barely spoke a word.”
    “I don’t think he did speak,” her mother said. “Lady Bullen is a forceful personality. How do you know the family, Lady Allen-Hill?”
    “Connections of my late husband. Second cousins, perhaps? They all came to the wedding, and Lady Barbara, one of the earl’s sisters, has become my frequent correspondent.” Victoria passed the rest of her dumpling to Penelope after limiting herself to two bites.
    “It sounds like a great deal of fun,” Rose said. “The masquerade ball is tomorrow. We’re all attending.”
    “Goodness, I’d forgotten about that,” Victoria said. Her trunk had been sent on ahead.
    “Would you like to stay until tomorrow and go in with all of us?” Lady Redcake asked.
    “I think it would be best if I settle Penelope in now,” Victoria said. “If a carriage can be spared.” The Redcakes were all very pleasant, but this was a house full of women, not the kind of holiday she had in mind.
    Lady Redcake nodded and called a footman to make arrangements. An hour later, Victoria and Penelope were on their way.
    Snow dusted everything but the centers of the roads, giving the landscape a frosted appearance. Icicles pointed their teeth down from eaves and branches. The carriage would have been intolerable if not for a robust collection of hot bricks and lap robes.
    “It does look like Christmas. I was afraid it wouldn’t in the south,” Penelope said.
    “Christmas should be an internal feeling. That way it doesn’t matter where you are. A feeling of innocent joy.” A time, perhaps, of relief from the strict propriety of daily life.
    “You sound like such a mother, Victoria.”
    She was startled by Penelope’s comment. Did she really? Fascinating, when all her thoughts were of the possibility of illicit pleasure. Victoria stared out of the window, her hands anchoring her to the seat as the wheels occasionally slid on patches of ice. Her cousin huddled under the thickest robe.
    Up ahead, she could see a shadowy patch on the snow: a large bush perhaps, or a fallen tree. But then, as the carriage rattled closer, she saw some kind of strange, wheeled machine.
    Two figures bent over it. One stood, then, blowing on his ungloved hands. She could see wide palms, long fingers. The cap he wore gusted off his head as wind rushed through a stand of alders, revealing a thick shock of blond hair, the same shade as Rose Redcake’s. He wore heavy clothes but gave the impression of solid strength and broad shoulders. The other figure was reed thin and tall, dressed similarly. A youth.
    As the carriage drew alongside, the man turned and waved his arms over his head.
    Did he need a rescue? Where had the horses gone? Only then did she notice the smoke curling up from the carriage: slow, sickly gray, and heavy. Maybe it was one of the new horseless carriages she’d read about in a magazine.
    She tapped the roof of the carriage to make it stop, but it was slowing already. Penelope got to her knees on the cushion as Victoria opened a window and peered out.
    The man didn’t come to talk to her, though she could hear voices. He was speaking to the