Author's Note: I've had this story written for quite a while, ever since I did the William and Nell story. I'd really like some concrit on this one, because I don't think it turned out all that well. Thanks.

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Carolers

They'd only been married for about a month, but Maudeline was pretty sure that she had Finis figured out. He wasn't the most complicated of people, after all. He did care a lot about social standing and family background, she'd give him that much. Otherwise, he had few other redeeming qualities. As far as she could tell, his interests ran toward counting money and toying about with his gun collection. And that was about it.

Maudeline had actually met Finis for the very first time the day they'd gotten married. At the altar, actually. Shrewdly, Maudeline had guessed that the reason behind that was to avoid having either one of them knowing exactly what they were in for. Oh, Maudeline knew that she wasn't exactly the most beautiful woman who'd ever lived. But, in her own humble opinion, she was one of the smartest. And there was no denying that she was well bred, too. It was just too bad that her only equal status-wise--meaning the only man suitable for marriage--looked like the illegitimate child of a troll and a frog (although, if one had ever seen the elder Lord and Lady Everglot, that assessment wouldn't seem too far off the mark). Maudeline knew that the only thing that had kept either Finis or herself from running screaming from the altar was that they were duty-bound to make a good match. It really wasn't up to either of them. And Maudeline had never been much for fairy-tale romances anyway--she hadn't envisioned a Prince Charming for herself. Which was lucky, as she would have been sorely disappointed.

So, both Maudeline and Finis had made the best of what was going to be a life-long bad situation. She liked to console herself with the knowledge that it could have been a lot worse. The two of them mostly kept out of each other's way, seeing one another at mealtimes. And, of course, sometimes at bedtime, but the less Maudeline dwelled on that the better.

Today was one of the days that she and Finis had actually been in the same room together for more than a couple of hours. There was only a week or so until Christmas. Neither of them were feeling particularly cheery, but they'd been receiving guests all day anyway. Now they were in the drawing room as the early dusk started to fall--Maudeline in a chair near the fireplace, and Finis standing at the large window that looked out onto the square.

"Emil! Fetch me musket!" Finis suddenly cried, staring out into the dusk. What he was looking at, Maudeline hadn't a clue. Still, I should probably say something before the idiot does something idiotic, she thought.

"You should ring for servants, not shout for them," Maudeline said, slightly irritated. One would think a member of the Everglot family would know better. When a harumph was his only response, she sighed. "What is it now?" she asked disinterestedly, setting her teacup aside. Finis turned from the window and replied,

"You can't hear that?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, then, grumbling, turned back to look out into the square. Maudeline listened, hearing only the crackle of the fire.

"Well?" Finis asked impatiently, turning around again. "Don't you hear that?"

"All I can hear is you asking me if I hear that," Maudeline replied, matching his tone. For a moment they just regarded one another with narrowed eyes.

"Carolers!" Finis finally said, pointing out the window. Maudeline listened closely, tilting her head a bit. She had to strain to hear it, but now that Finis had called attention to them, she could hear the carolers out in the square. And she couldn't help wincing a little--the singing was terribly off-key. Wherever do they find women so lacking in propriety that they'd make such public spectacles of themselves? Maudeline wondered. She shook her head before picking up some embroidery she'd set aside earlier.

"Yes, I hear them," she replied. "But why are you calling for your musket? You don't even know how to shoot it." Much to her satisfaction, she saw Finis's upper lip give a little twitch.

"Besides, even if you did know how to use it, if you used it on carolers, you'd be arrested," Maudeline pointed out, using her best sardonic tone of voice. "And I will not suffer the mortification of having a husband in prison, thank you very much." Finis merely harrumphed again and took one last look out the window.

"All that noise at this time of the evening," he grumbled, making his way over to the chair opposite Maudeline's and taking a seat. Picking up his cold cup of tea and eyeing it, he added, "Ringing bells, singing off-key, disturbing the peace...I can't abide carolers."

"Nor can I," Maudeline said. Then she paused, repeating what she'd just said to herself. Did I just...agree with him? she thought. She looked up to see Finis, staring at her in that wide-eyed way that made him look even more like a toad. He looked as surprised as she felt.

The silence that followed was somewhat awkward. Maudeline felt as though they were sitting there measuring one another up, as they held one another's gaze. She was sure that her expression matched his in stoniness. Finally Finis lowered his eyes back to his teacup and rather noisily cleared his throat.

"I don't care for the holidays in general," he said. "Lots of fuss and bother and relatives invading one's home...No, I don't care for it." Maudeline nodded, then paused for a moment, staring tight-lipped down at her sewing.

"What I can't stand is having to buy gifts for relatives I barely know," she finally said. "Most of them don't appreciate it anyway, so why bother?"

"People, in general, are thankless and ill-bred," Finis agreed.

"Most definitely," Maudeline said, giving up the pretense of sewing. She set her embroidery hoop down in her lap and looked into the fire instead. Glancing over every once in a while, she noticed that Finis was staring into the fire as well. And he, too, was taking little glances at her.

"I don't like Christmas trees all that much, either," he said finally, taking a pointed look at the towering tree that stood in the corner of the drawing room. "Pine needles all over the place."

"Always checking to make sure the thing doesn't go up in flames from the candles," Maudeline added. After a moment, she said, "Sending cards is a terrible bother, as well."

"And there's never anywhere to put the ones you get from other people," Finis said.

"The whole thing makes no sense," Maudeline replied resolutely, Finis nodding his agreement. Another silence followed. This one, though, felt almost...companionable. How very unsettling, Maudeline thought to herself.

Before she could think about it for too much longer, though, Finis said, "You know what else I don't like?" Maudeline shook her head, assuming that her expression was enough to tell him that she didn't really care, either. Either he didn't catch it or chose to ignore it, because he continued, "I don't like those little children charities send about to beg for donations."

"Children should be kept out of the way, not sent out from door to door to collect money," Maudeline replied. "Besides, collecting for charity is just a polite name for begging, anyway." Again, Finis nodded.

It suddenly occurred to Maudeline that they were having the longest conversation they'd ever had--and they were actually conversing about something, not just saying the usual "where is the maid with the tea?" or "what's the matter with you today?" that had become daily fare for them over the past month. Odd, what forced proximity to a person will do to you, Maudeline thought.

"What I truly detest, I suppose you could say," Finis said, straightening his watch fob, "Is the entire Christmas season. All of it," he added, waving a hand. Thrusting his thumbs under his lapels, he turned to the fire again. Finding herself feeling relatively charitable, Maudeline decided not to point out that he'd pretty much said that already. Instead, she said,

"I detest it, too."

Both of them nodded, almost in unison. Maudeline went back to her embroidery. She hated sewing, too, and wasn't very good at it, but...what else was there to do? After a while she had the distinct sense of being watched. She looked up and saw Finis staring at her with what could only be described as a squinty sort of look.

Glaring slightly, Maudeline asked, "Did you want something? What are you staring at me for?" Her words seemed to knock Finis back to earth. Clearing his throat, he took his watch out of his pocket and opened it, keeping his eyes on the watch's face instead of hers.

"I don't know," Finis replied in a low grumble, raising his eyebrows a little. "Just occurred to me that we hate the same things."

"And?" Maudeline asked in return. But Finis only shrugged instead of saying anything more, for which she was very glad. If there was one thing Maudeline absolutely couldn't stand, it was feelings of any sort--especially when people talked about them; and she was positive that Finis had been heading in just that direction. And it wasn't as though feelings mattered all that much anyway. So what was the use of discussing them?

Finis seemed to sense what she was thinking. He snapped his watch shut and returned it to his pocket before getting up. After straightening his waistcoat a bit, he looked up at her.

"I'm going to the study," he announced, as though Maudeline cared. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon," he added in a voice dripping with sarcasm as he walked over to the door that led to the hall.

"You're very welcome," she replied, matching his sarcasm note for note. "And do have fun with your guns," she added, smirking slightly when she heard him grumble in response. She didn't bother turning to watch him leave, but she did hear the door swing shut behind him.

The carolers outside were even louder now. Why was it that evening air seemed to carry noise so easily? Maudeline hated noise. Especially off-key noise. She didn't care all that much for music, either. Irritated, she put her embroidery down and stood up, feeling driven out of her own drawing room.

It would be dinner soon. She decided that she might as well go inform Finis, just to make sure he didn't accidentally shoot himself before the first course was served. That was not the sort of thing she wanted to see (or supervise the cleaning of) right before a meal. Besides, there was an even better reason for going to tell him that dinnertime was approaching.

Maudeline knew Finis hated being disturbed while he was in the study.