Page 14 of The Twelve Days of Christmas

STAVE IV.

Mistletoe Gambol

F OUR C OLLY B IRDS

As Monsieur de Fortgibu predicted, more snow had fallen, and to such a degree that the four servants who had volunteered to collect the foliage to decorate Wakely Hall were required to bundle themselves up in an array of scarves and cloaks to accommodate it.

Indeed, four inches of snow had descended from the winter sky at a gentle yet steady pace from the hour of twilight, and while the countryside of Merrywake looked glorious in the stark morning sunshine (for the fields were a twinkling blanket of white and the trees wore their sparkling boughs with aplomb) the terrain was troublesome to navigate.

Only a half-hour had passed since leaving Wakely, but already the quartet had been obliged to manoeuvre down a slippery ha-ha and a frozen riverbank, no mean feat for the member of the party who had been prevailed upon to push the wheelbarrow.

Still, the path was clear enough now they had found their bearings, and, as the servants crunched towards Wakely Forest, the housemaid Prudence Brown turned to her companions and made a point of expressing her admiration for the snowy poplar trees in the distance.

‘How affecting they look,’ she sighed wistfully. ‘Pretty as a painting! And see there – does it not look like they wear little pom-poms?’

Ralph Hornby, Viscount Pépin’s valet, squinted at the poplars from beneath his leather cap. Upon seeing said pom-poms his dark eyes lit with pleasure, and puffing up his chest he exclaimed:

‘That’s mistletoe! Shall we add some sprigs to the collection?

I’m sure it would go down splendidly back at the hall.

Imagine all those tons gambolling about the night of the ball, seeking out some dark nook with a Pépin sister!

And I’m sure we can slip a sprig belowstairs – seems a shame to let them have all the fun. ’

‘Oh yes,’ breathed Molly Hart, who looked up at Ralph with admiration. ‘What fun we could all have if given half the chance!’

Ralph laughed, Molly preened. Prudence gave another little sigh.

‘You know Mrs Wilson will not let us have mistletoe in the house,’ she said. ‘She’d throw it on the fire.’

Molly – as if affronted by such a suggestion – swung the empty basket she was carrying like a mallet.

‘I’m sure we could find a little cranny in the pantry. Mrs Wilson never goes in there, does she? Mrs Denby won’t allow it.’

‘She’d find it anyway, I’m sure,’ came the desolate reply, ‘and into the fire it would undoubtedly go.’

‘That, my dear Mol,’ said Ralph, flinging a long arm about her slight shoulders, ‘is because old bracket-face has never been kissed, and wishes no one else to have the pleasure. I’d wager my shiny new sixpence on it.

And what a tragedy that is, to have never experienced the wildly exhilarating feeling of a good kiss! ’

Such a declaration succeeded in making both Molly and Prudence giggle, but William Moss – who had paused from his task of pushing the cumbersome wheelbarrow through the white slew without assistance (a fact perceived by him most pointedly) – narrowed his eyes at Ralph’s back.

‘Not everyone kisses their way about Merrywake like you do, Hornby, and it will serve you to remember we are in impressionable company.’

With a long whistle Ralph released Prudence’s shoulders and spun about to address him.

‘What ho, Will! Such prudishness. I would have you know I only kiss ladies who wish to be kissed.’

At this Molly looked at Ralph with an expression that gave no doubt as to her wishes, but his attentions were firmly planted on William, a smirk playing about his handsome face which William answered with a deep frown.

‘But do they realise you have no mind to kiss them honestly?’ he countered. ‘I dare say you have no inclination of setting your cap at anyone, despite all your flirtations. I’d be wary if I were you, Mol.’

Ralph rolled his eyes and Molly, with a faint air of injury, tugged at the lace of her Christmas box shawl.

Prudence – with an uncertain look upon her face – pushed ahead towards Wakely Forest and those delightful pom-pommed poplars.

William, however, watched the ambling trio crunch through the snow ahead of him, and shook his dark head.

Ralph Hornby had held the position of valet for some years before William arrived at Wakely Hall.

The son of a butcher, William had no taste for the cruel barbarism of that trade, and as soon as circumstance allowed him the opportunity he left his home town to forge his own way in the world.

That is to say, William prevailed upon the Pépins for a position, and Mrs Wilson’s speedy acceptance of his application ( Wakely is in dire need of an under-gardener ) made him rather more sympathetic to her, and therefore less willing to hear invectives of the kind Ralph Hornby chose to impart.

That, and William really did disapprove of the valet’s cavalier treatment of Wakely Hall’s maids.

It had always been so. William observed early after his arrival at the hall that many of Wakely’s serving women were half in love with Ralph, and in truth this knowledge was most vexing for William.

It was not that he himself wished for the attentions of the fairer sex; no, it was more that he found the valet’s behaviour so disagreeable.

Having grown up with three younger sisters, he knew how he would feel if their hearts were toyed with in so rakish a manner. That, and the fact that he—

His thoughts were interrupted by a tinkling, feminine laugh.

William looked up. Ahead, Ralph had linked arms with both Prudence and Molly, chattering blithely away.

Oh, yes, he was a charmer, that one. William raised his head to the sky, and in doing so marked the mistletoe suspended from the branches of those ever-nearing poplar trees.

What, he wondered, did a kiss even feel like?

Was it wildly exhilarating, as Ralph claimed?

William tried to imagine such a circumstance: the closeness of two bodies pressed against each other, the shared experience of warm breath upon one’s lips.

Were lips soft to the touch when kissing?

Or were they hardened in passion? William’s imagination was not ripe for the task.

He had seen his parents kiss, of course.

So too his sister on her betrothal to the local blacksmith.

But such kisses were always so polite, devoid of the desire he had imagined romantic kisses to hold.

And did kisses differ between those shared by male and female, as opposed to those shared between—

William shook his head. These were thoughts he must not think.

Somewhere, a blackbird sang. He raised his head to find it, eventually spying the colly perched on a holly branch on the outskirts of Wakely Forest. William called for the others to stop.

‘We can start here,’ he said when they joined him.

From the wheelbarrow he pulled out a pair of long-handled shears and passed them to Ralph, who looked at them with a faint expression of disgust.

‘What’s the matter?’ William asked. ‘Too much like hard work for you?’

‘Of course not,’ replied Ralph, with a tone of affront. ‘But I am here for advisory purposes only.’

‘Advisory purposes?’

Ralph raised his chiselled chin. ‘Usually it is Mr Cobb who collects the foliage, so I suppose you can be forgiven for not knowing my role in this endeavour, but I never pick the stuff. The viscount has trusted me to oversee the placement of the Christmas garlands for years now and never once have I been required to get my hands dirty. Tell him, Mol. You know what’s what around here. ’

‘It’s true,’ said Molly with a toss of her dark head. ‘Ralph’s talents are far more suited to the application of decoration than to outside work. Valets are above such things.’

To this William stared, keeping his countenance as neutral as he was able to under the circumstances.

Mr Cobb, Wakely’s gardener, currently indisposed with a cold, had not disclosed this information to him when he collected the wheelbarrow from the gatekeeper’s cottage earlier that morning, but if he had William was sure he would have had some choice words to say about the matter.

As upper servants, Molly’s and Ralph’s tasks were nothing to those of the lowers such as him and Prudence, but until that moment William had not fully comprehended the hierarchy which existed between them, and it left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

Suppressing a deep sigh, he placed the shears against the sharp leaves of the holly bush, then removed a pair of clippers from the woollen confines of his double-breasted work coat and handed them to Prudence.

‘There’s some decent-looking firs a little way in.

Cut a few sprigs, won’t you? The stems aren’t very thick lower down, ’twill be easy enough,’ and as Prudence nodded (thankfully) readily enough, William turned to the upper housemaid.

‘See if you can’t seek out some pine cones.

Enough to fill that basket. If you can bear to get your hands dirty, that is. ’

His tone had been deliberately derogatory, and William was satisfied to see that Molly marked it. However, the housemaid simply glanced pointedly at Ralph and said in a manner that set William’s teeth on edge:

‘I’d rather stay here and help Ralph advise. Prudence can scavenge for pine cones, can’t you, Prue?’

William ground his teeth.

‘I won’t argue with Hornby, if that is the way of things, but you volunteered to come along, and if it wasn’t to help us then I can only assume it was to shirk your duties back at the house.

I wonder what Mrs Wilson might say to that when I tell her all you did was stand about making cow-eyes at the valet? ’

At this, Molly paled and turned imploringly to said valet, whose mouth twisted in a wry grin.

‘Better do as he says, Mol.’