Cora jerked awake at the beeping of the alarm.

"Sorry," Robert mumbled into her hair before reaching back to slap the "off" button with his palm. "I forgot to turn it off last night." He nestled himself once more against her back, tightening his arms around her waist.

"It's okay, Robert. We probably shouldn't lie abed very late anyway," she said, but she made no move to get up, too comfortable within the circle of his embrace.

Soon she felt Robert nuzzling into her neck. "Mmmm, you smell wonderful. And different; what is it?"

Yawning, Cora slipped her arms down to cover his. "I used some of Momma's perfume last night, since I'm out of my favorite. She wanted me to see if I liked this. I'm hoping someone got me more of my perfume for Christmas though."

"Perhaps someone will get you some of this too. You smell luscious." Robert swept her hair away from her shoulders and started placing kisses above the fabric of her nightgown.

"And you still smell like cigars. Why didn't you shower before coming to bed? You know I hate when you smell like that."

"You have a problem with our male bonding?" he murmured lazily as he continued running his lips along her skin.

"No, I have a problem with our sheets stinking." She wriggled her shoulders. "I'm going to take a shower."

Robert clung to her. "No, don't get up yet," he whispered, resting his forehead on her back. "We can make up for last night."

Cora pried his arms from around her. "Maybe tonight, Robert. I don't want us to be late for breakfast, not with my parents here, and we both have to shower." She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed, stretching her arms up with another yawn.

Extending an arm over the spot where she'd just been lying beside him, he touched the small of her back. "We could shower together," he suggested, his voice hopeful.

She turned to look at him. "It'll be quicker if we don't." Standing, she shrugged and shook her head at him. "Perhaps tonight you'll come upstairs before I fall asleep. But right now I have to consider my parents."

Robert stared at her. Her tone was calm, but her words made him feel ashamed. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't realize how late Marmaduke and I were up talking."

"You're not in trouble, Robert. You did nothing wrong. I'm just in no mood for that this morning. Do you understand?" Her eyes were soft.

"I do." He nodded and sighed.

"Put the long face away, darling. We're fine." Leaning forward, she caressed his cheek and gave him a brief kiss before smiling at him and disappearing into the bathroom.

When he heard the shower running, Robert rolled onto his back and passed his hand over his forehead with another sigh. They weren't fine; lately things between them had been tense. He wasn't sure why, specifically, so he didn't know how to make it better. In the meantime, however, he felt keenly how she seemed to keep him at arm's length.

And he hated it.


Marmaduke tapped his knuckles upon the door of their room. When he heard no answer, he entered quietly. Rosamund had declined to come down to breakfast, pleading a headache. Now she perched upon the window seat, ostensibly reading a book. But the volume rested upon her crossed legs while she stared out the window, one hand on a page, the other coiling and uncoiling one of her red curls around her fingers absent-mindedly.

"Rosamund?" he approached her hesitantly. "Are you feeling better?"

Shaking herself slightly, Rosamund released the curl and looked up at him with a tiny smile. "Yes, the headache is gone."

He took her hand and sat in front of her on the window seat, his brow furrowed. "Are you hungry? Can I get someone to bring you anything?"

"Stop fussing, Marmaduke. I'm perfectly capable of getting something for myself if I need it." She regretted her somewhat severe tone as soon as she saw his reaction. So she tightened her fingers around his hand and smiled again. "But thank you."

Grazing the pads of his fingers over her cheek, he nodded. Then he sighed deeply, averting his eyes. "Darling, we have to talk about this some time. I need to, and I know you need to. And we need to tell the others."

"No. Not yet. I can't talk about it yet. Not even with you. Please, please, can we just drop it for now? I'd like to enjoy Christmas."

Marmaduke couldn't stand the pain in her voice. He knew they needed to talk – to really talk to one another – but he also didn't want to pressure her into speaking about it before she was ready. So much had changed in their lives, though, he was afraid that it would rip them apart if they didn't address it. And soon.

It was this fear that made him fasten his eyes on hers. "But I know you won't enjoy Christmas with this weighing on you – on us. Just consider that." He waited for her to nod once, then leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

Watching him stand and walk toward the closet, Rosamund drew her brows together. "What are you doing?"

Pulling his coat and scarf out of the closet and wrapping the scarf around his neck, he looked over at her. "We're walking into town. Your brother and father, Isidore and I. Someone – I name no names – still has shopping to do."

Rosamund rolled her eyes. "Robert, more than likely. Papa has Mama do all the shopping for Christmas, and Isidore strikes me as the type who gets everything done in October. I'd peg Martha as more likely to be scrambling to get 'a few more things' for everyone the week of Christmas."

He chuckled and shrugged his coat onto his shoulders. Then he walked back to the window seat, putting a hand on her shoulder and gazing down into her face, his expression more serious. "Is it alright that I go? You'll be okay?"

"You – you won't tell them, will you?" Her voice trembled.

"Not before you're ready, darling. Even if I think we should sooner rather than later."

"I know." She reached up and straightened his scarf. "Now, off with you."

Marmaduke cupped her chin. "You won't sit in here all day, will you?"

She gave a little shake of her head. "No, I'll go down in a little while." A slight smile crossed her lips. "I would be very selfish indeed to leave Martha and Mama both to Cora by herself."

"I'm not worried about you being selfish, Rosamund. I'm worried about you not at least trying to get some amusement out of Martha and Isidore's visit, to enjoy the holiday." Running his thumb over her jawline, he said softly, "So promise me you won't stay up here all alone?"

"I promise."

He left her with a tender kiss, hoping she'd deliver on her promise, hoping that time in the company of Cora and Martha – if not her mother – would brighten her spirits a bit.


"I have an idea," Martha announced suddenly. She'd been staring at three silent women for over ten minutes as they sipped coffee or tea after lunch, all of them avoiding the others' eyes. Now, all eyes met hers. She turned to Cora. "Do you remember how we used to make Christmas cookies, Cora? All of us?"

Cora grinned at the memory. "Harold and I would end up throwing flour at one another while you screeched at us to stop and Daddy sneaked more flour to us."

"Well, I thought that the cook wouldn't really need the kitchen right now, as lunch is over, yes? So let's go down there while the menfolk are out and make some. As a surprise for them. What do you think?" Martha glanced around at them hopefully.

"They were very good cookies. I didn't have anything planned for the afternoon besides finishing wrapping some gifts. But that can wait." Cora smiled at Rosamund. "Will you come with us?"

Rosamund hesitated, then, remembering her promise to her husband, shrugged. "Why not?"

"What about you, Violet?" Martha grinned at her.

"It sounds ridiculous," Violet snorted.

"'Bah, humbug,' to you too, Scrooge," Rosamund replied, putting down her tea cup and standing. "It's Christmas time, Mama. We can all use a bit of the ridiculous."

"It would be different if there were small children in the house for the holiday," Violet threw back.

Martha pursed her lips together and narrowed her eyes when she saw that both Cora and Rosamund looked as if Violet had struck them. Cora's mouth opened as she stared at her mother-in-law. Rosamund lowered her eyes to the table in front of her, her cheeks flushed. For several moments no one spoke, and it amazed Martha that Violet appeared unrepentant for her pointed remark.

Finally, Martha rose from the table and fixed Violet with a cold stare. "Well, there are enough people acting like children in this house anyway. Come along, girls. I still want to make the cookies. Isidore loves them even more than the children ever did." Martha waited until Cora and Rosamund had slipped past her and out the door toward the kitchen before shaking her head at Violet and following them.

She had realized at least one element to the strange dynamic she'd noticed the evening before.


Robert felt a tug on the elbow of his coat sleeve. "Hmm?" he grunted, not taking his eyes from the train sets and dolls in the shop window.

"I asked you if you'd gotten everything you needed," Isidore repeated, wondering at his son-in-law's sudden reverie.

"Oh, right," Robert muttered, tearing his eyes from the toys. He thought a moment, going over his list in his head, making mental check marks by the items he'd already gotten. Then he grinned. "Do you know what perfume Martha gave Cora to borrow last night? I wanted to get some for Cora. Although I already bought her favorite for her."

"Yes, I did happen to be in the room when Cora asked to borrow something." He smiled and gave Robert the name of it. "I hope you can find it here. If not, you can always order it from somewhere like London and tell her it's on the way."

"Well, that's not quite as fun as seeing her open it on Christmas day, is it?"

"No, it's not; I'll grant you that." Isidore looked down the street, then pointed to another shop. "Might that store carry perfumes?"

Robert nodded. "Yes, we can try there, Isidore." He glanced at his watch. "We still have time before we're to meet Papa and Marmaduke in the square."

As they began walking together, Isidore drew his brows together, remembering Robert's longing expression from earlier. "Robert? Is anything the matter? I mean, with you and Cora?" He'd been watching his son-in-law carefully all day, and, he had to admit, Martha had a point about there being something off.

Averting his eyes, Robert tightened his grip around the handles of the bags he carried and shook his head. "No, of course not. Why would anything be the matter?"

"That would be for you to tell me." Isidore cleared his throat. "But perhaps it's something you'd rather not share."

Robert looked at Isidore and shook his head again. "There's nothing to share."

The older man could sense sadness in the younger man's voice. But he simply nodded. "Well, if you ever need to talk…." He left it at that, holding the door to the shop open for him.

"Thanks, Isidore." Robert went into the shop, turning his mind toward finding the perfume for Cora.


"God, Martha, what happened earlier today? I've never seen this family so tense at dinner! And that's saying something." Isidore hung up his suit coat and started loosening his tie.

Martha, who had already gotten into bed, having come up long before he did, put her book aside and said, "What did I tell you? Something – or to be completely accurate, most likely quite a few somethings…. Anyway, there are things going on here, Issi. And I think it's causing a lot of pain."

Isidore sat to pull off his shoes and socks, shoving them beneath the chair before attacking his shirt buttons. "I agree, Martha. But something had to have happened today too – with the four of you."

"Come to bed, and I'll tell you about it." She turned out her bedside lamp and smiled at him, watching him get undressed.

After he'd finished undressing, Isidore slipped under the covers in his boxers and nestled up to Martha, dropping a kiss upon her shoulder. Turning into his embrace, Martha wrapped her arms around his waist and proceeded to tell him what had gone on that day. Isidore reciprocated with what he'd discerned from Robert.

"What do you think, Issi?" she asked, her expression filled with concern.

Isidore lifted a hand to tuck a strand of hair behind Martha's ear. "I think they need our help. Even if they don't realize it."

She nodded. "I agree. But how do we get them to?"

"We'll think of something, my dear. In the meantime, I am still wide awake, and I missed my wife today."

Martha smirked at him. "I wonder what that could mean," she said, her voice dripping sarcasm.

Grinning, he moved his hand down to pat her behind.

Chuckling, she pulled him even closer to her. "Yes, we'll think of something. Later." As Isidore ran his fingers along her thigh, dragging her nightgown up with them, Martha whispered, "Did you enjoy the cookies, Issi?"

Pausing a moment, Isidore drew back to look into her eyes. "Oh yes. I always enjoy your cookies."

Martha laughed while Isidore bent his head to kiss her neck, his mustache tickling her throat in a most agreeable manner.


When Patrick entered the bedroom, he saw Violet already curled up on the bed. Her soft breathing made him smile. He moved about the room as quietly as he could, undressing and putting on his pajamas. Going over to her side of the bed, he switched off Violet's bedside lamp as he bent down and kissed her cheek.

"Patrick?" she murmured, rubbing her eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's quite late, darling. Go back to sleep." He brushed a hand through her hair, smiling at her.

Violet looked up at him. "Did all of you stay up late?"

He shook his head and sat next to her. "No, Robert and Marmaduke went up hours ago. Isidore and I were the ones who stayed in the library talking late."

"What were you talking about?"

"Oh, just what has happened in the past few years since we'd seen one another. That sort of thing."

Taking his hand in hers, Violet lowered her lashes. "Might I ask you something, Patrick?"

Her suddenly serious tone took him by surprise. He pressed her hand. "Certainly, Violet. What is it?"

She lifted her eyes to meet his. "Are you bored with me?"

"My dear, where is this coming from?" he inquired, his eyebrows raised.

Violet sighed as she lowered her eyes again, her face flushing slightly.

"I see. It's because of Martha and Isidore being here, isn't it?" He cupped her cheek when she nodded, obviously regretting asking the question already. "Violet, look at me please." Once she had done so, he said, "Of course I'm not bored. I love you very much, and you are many things, but you've never been boring. Not to me." Grinning, he leaned down to kiss her on the mouth, a long, lingering kiss.

"I'm glad, Patrick," she replied with a smile once he'd ended the kiss.

"Let's get some sleep, darling, okay?"

Feeling a stab of disappointment, Violet nodded. "Yes. Yes, of course."

Patrick caressed her face once more before standing and moving around the bed to his side. Turning out the light, he climbed in beside her and got comfortable. "Goodnight, Violet."

"Goodnight, Patrick," she breathed, her brief elation at his response to her question having given way to a knot of fear in her stomach.