1886

Friday, November 27th

Thomas grinned as home came into sight, not because he particularly wanted to return, but because Lucille was there. The only consistent thing about the mansion was its deteriorating three storeys of blue-grey brick and stone. Otherwise it was a mishmash of styles from mid-17th Century Baroque to 18th Century Palladian up until the early 19th Century Gothic Revival when the constant renovations had finally stopped due to lack of money.

Finlay glanced back at him with milky blue-eyes, "Young master Thomas, do you still have Mistress Lucille's gift with you ? Oh my." The silvery hair ruffled as the snowflake laced wind gusted plucking the hat from the old man's head.

With a laugh he reached up to catch the bowler hat and laid it beside him on the cart's back bench. It was rather fortunate that his Christmas gift for Lucille had finally arrived. He had started fearing that it would only arrive when they were long since snowed in. Impulsively, he reached into the right side pocket of his waist coat for the little dark walnut box. In his left pocket was the cloak broach for Finlay's wife, Amelia, that he would gift when the man left them for the winter. "Yes, I still have it as I also have your hat. I'll save returning your hat until we stop, no, old thing ?"

Styx the cart horse whinnied as they passed beneath Allerdale Hall's gates alerting Finlay that they would have to stop soon. Finlay turned his attention back to the dark red path. "I am much obliged, young master Thomas, much obliged indeed."

A few minutes later, Finlay had pulled up before the grey stone steps. He stepped out of the cart and returned Finlay's hat before he clasped the man's shoulder murmuring, "Finlay, take my trunk up to my room will you ?"

Finlay nodded and smiled slightly, "Of course, Sir Thomas. Let me say again how glad I am to have you home."

"I'm glad to see you again, dear Finlay." He ascended the three steps to open the dark double doors, the great hall with its walls of cobalt plaster and dark oak grand staircase was still as he remembered it. The library's marble fireplace was burning brightly, Lucille would be sat on the far left side of the room at her grand piano, she was playing a Chopin of some kind. While he might've been wrong he thought that he recognized it as Nocturne No. 2 in E-Flat Major, Op. 9 as his sort-of mate, Anthony Halsey, back at boarding school had liked playing it.

Quietly, he entered the library trying to sneak up behind Lucille. Her onyx hair was loose about her shoulders, straight as a pin and near blending with it was the sapphire of her dress and greatly contrasting was the ivory of her skin as her fingers flowed over the similar keys. The music slowly faded away and she turned, he helped her to her feet.

Lucille smiled faintly, asking, "Did you truly think I would not notice you, Thomas ?"

"I had hoped that I might be a slight surprise at least."

She hugged him tightly, briefly laying her head on his shoulder, "Your home, your home at last. Hmm, what do you have in your pocket Thomas ?" Her hand moved to his chest, sliding toward the pocket of his waistcoat.

He slid his hand over hers, moving up to grasp her wrist. Gently, sternly, Thomas admonished, "Ah-ah, Christmas, Christmas, then I promise you can have it."

It was unbecoming, but also undoubtedly adorable when she pouted at him in return. Of course, it wasn't a surprise at all as she leaned up pressing kisses against his lips. "I can hardly believe that my little brother turned out so handsome."

"It is only three weeks dear sister buttering me up is not going to work."

Lucille's free hand caressed his inner thigh as she turned him around, "Oh ? Are we sure ?"

Discordant notes from the piano when he tried to steady himself against the bench. His heartbeat suddenly coursing uncomfortably in his veins, "Ah, yes, hn, w-we are. Umph, mm, Lucille."

Friday, December 4th

The snow was already up to their calves as Thomas put a hand on Finlay's arm. "One more moment, I have something to give you."

Finlay shook his head, "No, no, Sir Thomas. I cannot, Sir Michael, my contract."

He pulled out Amelia's gift, his lips briefly thinning. Once again Papa was trying to ruin something for him, even dead the man refused to stop. So his tone came out more forceful than he meant for it to. "You work for me now, Finlay, me, not my father !" His tone softened and he pressed the small, square box into the wrinkled hands. "You said that Amelia needed a new broach for her cloak, so I bought her one in repayment for your many years of impeccable service. For understanding me, for finding the value in me that he refused, take it, Finlay, please."

A moment's hesitation before the old man smiled, accepting the box. "Thank you, young master Thomas. Say, whatever does it look like ?"

"It is a geranium made of ruby and pink quartz, the pin is hidden beneath the emerald leaf."

"It sounds wondrous, I am sure she will appreciate it very much. Have a merry Christmas, Sir Thomas, and God bless."

With a faint smile of his own, he watched Finlay climb onto the driver's seat. "Yourself and Amelia as well and Godspeed, dear Finlay, until spring."

Finlay doffed his hat, "I certainly look forward to returning to service, sir, if God be willing."

Sunlight gleaming off the snow made him squint as Finlay turned Styx and set off down the road. Only when the elder man had disappeared from sight did he close Allerdale Hall's gates.

Saturday, December 25th

Lucille's gift lay on the chair's arm as she returned to their bedroom with a box of her own. He had turned the chairs slightly toward each other and now she stopped before him, her tailored nightgown fluttering.

She put down his gift, murmuring, "Are you finally going to give me my gift, little brother ?" The house breathed and the fire flared causing the shadows to accentuate Lucille's soft curves. How exactly he had managed to resist until now he didn't know, but he did know that he had surprised himself with the doing.

Amusedly he picked up the box standing as he answered, "Of course, dear sister. I know that you didn't like Mama's earrings for the bustle dress, so I had a jeweler in London re-cut them then bind them with silver instead of gold." He presented the box and opened it; sat on the white satin pillow were the now tear-shaped sapphire drop earrings.

Soft almost childish giggles of delight as Lucille threw her arms around him. "Thank you, Thomas, thank you. Oh this really is lovely, ha ha, Mama would have hated it !"

He pressed a kiss against each of her earlobes after he'd reinserted the earrings. As he pulled away to lay the box down he thought she looked gorgeous, chiaroscuro as a few strands of hair framed her face. The sapphires glinted too then and they matched her eyes near perfectly.

Lucille picked up his box again, it was of only slightly bigger proportions and polished oak. She opened it to reveal a silver hunter-cased pocket watch laid on a black pillow.

Unsurprisingly he heard himself exclaim, "That's not Papa's !"

A faint smile, "I know, I saved up the money and sent off for it while you were away. Now, I want to see it on you."

Hardly two minutes went by before she had pulled the waistcoat on for him, threaded the pocket watch's chain through and everything. That was when she smoothed the emerald fabric primly before saying, "We can try using Grandpapa's camera that you modified, if it works we can document the occasion."

Then he found himself being towed out of the bedroom and down a few halls to the spare room where he'd put the near ancient camera. He hadn't really modified it that much. Just lengthened the cords and wires, fiddled with the lens a bit, and improved the powder solution. All so that the camera would, hopefully, work better in the hall's woefully under-lit rooms. What with the modifications it actually surprised him that the camera did not catch fire as he had half-feared it would. They ended up getting quite a nice photograph out of it really, himself and Lucille arm-in-arm, smiling. It was the only Christmas in their life in which he actually remembered having fun.