ˈbrəT͟Hərˌho͝od: the condition/quality of being a brother
Time passed subjectively for Lilly, in that inexplicably paradoxical manner of being slowed down for some durations, yet sped up during others.
Upon Lady Samantha's insistence, Lilly found a substantial amount of her time spent at Battlewood, from Mama bringing her along for frequent visits. To her surprise, she realised that she looked forward to these visits a bit more each time, with hours spent exploring the manor alongside the youngest member of the Ambrose family. On rainy days, the expansive house served as the stage for the theatrical expeditions played out from their imaginations– one day a vacation island of paradise in France and another the perilous, wooded jungles of South America.
Much to Lilly's dismay, she learnt that she could not call her new friend by her favourite nickname without him kicking up a fuss every time, causing her to give up further attempts after a while. However, after much cajoling on her part, she was able to convince Rick to play with the dolls that she had brought with her during each visit. She discovered that when he was a toddler, Lady Samantha allowed him to play with them but once he had grown older, his father had been against it and forbid him from doing so. Lilly could see that Rick secretly desired to do so again, despite his adamant denials and refusals due to propriety and filial duties dictating him otherwise.
Lady Samantha had walked in on them one time, much to her horror, while they were having a tea party with Lilly's dolls. But upon seeing the innocent happiness radiated from both of them, her soft mother's heart did not have to the strength to prohibit her son again for the second time. She allowed them to do as they pleased– on the sole condition that the entire affair was kept a secret from his father.
Afterwards, Lilly could not help but to wonder what kind of person Rick's father and Lady Samantha's husband was.
She soon received the answer to her question during her next visit.
She and Rick had been completely engrossed in a game of tick– their own altered version where one person had to hide and reach an assigned safe location before the other found and chased them. Lilly had found him hiding in a shadowy alcove and an intense hunt ensued.
She sprinted after him down a corridor that eventually led up a long flight of stairs. Barely registering the dark wood panelling and paintings that that lined the unfamiliar hallway, she cornered Rick at the end of a corridor.
"You– can't– escape. Give– up." She wheezed out, beaming triumphantly.
She hunched over as rivulets of sweat travelled down the sides of her face, with strands of dishevelled hair sticking out of the once-neat, shoulder-length plait her mother had braided that morning.
"Never." He huffed in response, using his sleeve to wipe away the beads of perspiration from his forehead.
Lilly knew it was only a matter of time before he lost this round. There was nowhere for him to run– he was trapped between her and a hard place. The hard place consisting of a wall behind a propped bust of a scowling man, expressing its distaste at them both.
"What is going on here?" A sharp voice spoke somewhere beyond Lilly's line of vision.
Rick looked up past her and immediately straightened, all traces of amusement vanished from his blanched face.
Following his lead, she turned around to face the person behind her and instinctively stiffened.
In front of them stood a much older and taller man, clad in a bespoke black tailcoat with matching trousers, his embroidered waistcoat stretched over a slightly protruding stomach. His faintly greying hair made his chiselled features and all-too familiar sea-coloured eyes appear even more stark.
Lilly found it rather easy to deduce which parent Rick resembled the most.
"Well? I am waiting for an answer." The Marquess Ambrose's censured and impatient expression was a breathing imitation of the portraits surrounding him.
"It is nothing, Father. We were just playing."
"'We'? And who might you be?" He directed his stare to Lilly, cold eyes assessing her tiny figure.
His presence commanded authority, that distinctive aura affiliated solely with aristocrats. It took every ounce of Lilly's energy to remain still and not flee from the estate screaming.
"My name is Lillian Linton, Your Lordship." She curtsied and her knees trembled as she did so, a sight that did not escape the Marquess's notice.
"I see. Welcome to Battlewood Hall, Miss Linton. I believe I have met your mother before but not you until now. Consider my house yours for the duration of your stay." Despite his words, the infinitesimal incline of his head and wintry tone expressed the amount of hospitality he was truly willing to extend to her.
He turned around and started walking away but at the last moment, paused and turned his head slightly, towards the direction of his son.
"Remember what I have repeatedly informed you about this floor. Especially the rules in regard to privacy and disturbance here."
He then marched off into one of the rooms, closing the door behind him with a resolute click that echoed throughout the hallway.
A hush permeated throughout the air for what felt like an immeasurable amount of time for Lilly. Neither she nor the boy next to her dared to even risk breathing as they wordlessly backtracked the way they came, out of the hallway and down the stairs.
It was only when their feet touched the ground floor that Rick ventured the notion to open his mouth and speak.
"Sorry about that. Sometimes he can be a bit…" His voice trailed off.
"Yeah, I saw." Lilly interjected. She chewed on her trembling lip. "Can we go outside now?"
He nodded, gently leading her by the hand.
They headed out to the back of the manor and passed the rest of the day competing who could chuck pebbles the farthest.
The next three years passed by in batches– weeks were counted down until their next meeting, months were spent planning events, and seasons determined their activities: with snowballs thrown at each other in the winter and mud balls in the summer.
For this particular day, however, Lilly was excited for an unprecedented event. Instead of visiting Battlewood, the Ambroses were visiting her and her family at their estate. Her father had decided to host a grand celebration for Christmas, with her best friend and his family among the dozens of invited guests. It was the first time she would be seeing him after over half a year, due to a rather special circumstance.
Lilly tapped her foot against the snow-covered ground impatiently, standing with her parents and sisters at the top of the portico outside their country manor, receiving the arriving guests. Half an hour in and the urge to groan grew ever steadily each time a stranger emphasised just– "How much you have grown!"– since their last visit.
But with her parents nearby, all she could do was bob her head with a painted smile in a manner reminiscent to her mother's collection of nodding-head figures.
About two hours later, she sighed loudly, still waiting outside. All of the invited guests were in attendance, settled comfortably inside in the warm drawing room.
Well, almost. All but one of the invited parties.
Lilly rubbed her gloved hands together, her numb, reddened nose feeling like it was about to fall off at any given moment. Relenting, she opened her mouth to ask if she could head inside when she heard a rumbling noise that grew louder by the second.
In the distance, a carriage pulled into the courtyard past the open gates and Lilly's face lit up, recognising the family crest painted on the door. She felt eyes on her and turned to her mother who was looking at her with a knowing smile.
The carriage pulled up in front of the manor's entrance. The Linton family's butler stepped forward to open the door and out stepped three figures of varying statures. A moment later followed two maids dressed in livery, one that she immediately recognised as the scowling nanny that had scolded her and Rick on numerous occasions during her visits. They all ascended the stairs and Mrs Linton stepped forward.
"Your Lordship, Your Ladyship, My Lord." She curtsied, smiling at them. "I'm glad to see that you are able to attend for the festivities, especially after the recent events at your home." She nodded to the wrapped bundle in Lady Samantha's arms. "I trust that your journey here was well?"
"As well as it could have been, our apologies for the delay." Lady Samantha responded warmly while the Marquess inclined his head.
Mrs Linton turned slightly back towards her husband and children. "Allow me to introduce the rest of my family, although I believe you all are well-acquainted with one of them already." Her lips turned even more upwards as she glanced at the second youngest Ambrose.
The introductions commenced and when Mrs Linton finished, Lady Samantha spoke up. "It is lovely to finally meet you all and my friend here has said many wonderful things about each of you. Permit me to introduce the newest addition to our family."
She looked down adoringly as she cradled the small bundle in her arms and it shifted, a tiny arm reaching out, then withdrawing from the cold air.
"This is Adaira Louise Jannet Melanie Georgette Ambrose, but Adaira will do just fine."
Lilly stepped towards her, frowning. "Why does she have so many middle names?
"Taken from both sides of the family." Lady Samantha winked at her conspiratorially.
Behind them, someone cleared their throat and Lilly turned around to see Papa looking at her pointedly.
"Lilly, I'm sure that the Marquess and his family do not want to remain standing out in the cold. Let's join the rest of the guests inside, shall we?"
Everyone headed inside, with the servants beginning to collect their protective winter attire after they crossed the threshold.
After she handed her coat and gloves off, Lilly lingered behind by Lady Samantha's side as she tried to get a closer look at the youngest Ambrose member.
"Wow she's so tiny! And her curls are so cute– and, oh! She just opened her eyes!"
Indeed she had. Sea-coloured orbs met a pair of chestnut ones, blinking sleepily before she gurgled and smiled up at her.
Lilly just looked at Lady Samantha with a mixture of elation and awe.
"She likes you." Lady Samantha encouraged.
Turning to Rick, Lilly exclaimed, "Oh, this is all so exciting! You have a baby sister now."
"Not really." He pulled a face. "All she does is eat, cry or poop. Not much excitement from that."
"Rick! Be nice." Lady Samantha admonished.
Adaira turned her head towards the sound of her brother's voice, squirming and reaching her arm out.
"What does she want?" Lilly questioned.
"This." Sighing, he took out a small silver rattle from his pocket and gave it to his sister. She greedily grasped it, shaking it with vigour before shoving the end of it into her mouth.
Lilly just looked at him smugly and he rolled his eyes.
"She is going to end up spoilt." He muttered.
As if you're making things any better. She barely refrained from retorting aloud, knowing his parents were within earshot.
Lady Samantha temporarily transferred Adaira over to her other servant, a young nursemaid, while her coat was collected by a waiting servant and then took her daughter back in her arms.
Once both families had been relieved of their outdoor attire, they passed through the tinsel and floral wreath-laden hallways, heading over to the dining room to join the already escorted guests.
Several minutes later, Adaira had drifted back to sleep again and just in time too, for they had reached their destination.
Lilly's father stepped towards the centre of the spacious, brightly lit area and cleared his throat loudly, drawing the eyes of every person present on him.
The entire room fell silent.
"My Lords, Ladies and Gentlemen," He addressed his guests. "I want to extend my deepest thanks to you all for accepting our invitation to celebrate the Christmas season with me and my family on this festive Christmas Eve. Dinner shall be served soon and afterwards, the festivities will commence in the ballroom."
He offered his arm to his wife, leading her to her seat. The rest of the guests followed suit, taking their assigned seats as indicated from the silk printed cards laid out on the expansive, lined tables.
To Lilly's pleasant surprise, she found that she was seated in between Ella and Rick, with his mother and father assigned on the opposite side of him. The nanny and the nursemaid that had travelled along stood close by behind them and the nursemaid stepped forward, with her arms outstretched towards Lady Samantha.
Lady Samantha gently transferred her sleeping daughter to her, covertly prying the rattle from Adaira's tiny fingers. With relief given to her aching arms, a soft sigh escaped the tired mother as she settled into the wooden, maroon-cushioned chair.
While waiting for the food to be served, Lilly took the time to take in her surroundings; her breath catching as she appreciated how much splendour the place had been transformed for the season.
The dining room truly shone, the sparkling crystals from the mistletoe-adorned glass chandeliers casting a soft glow as far as the eye could see– from the regal paintings on the patterned wallpaper and matching velvet curtains, all the way to the decorated foliage of holly and laurel scattered throughout on the embroidered tablecloth. The fireplace crackled in the background, the Yule log and hazel twigs providing a steady source of hearty warmth to both the senses and soul.
The highlight of the room however, was the towering tree in the corner, its looming presence clearly intended to demand admiration. Taking influence from Queen Charlotte's example, it was bedecked from base to the very top with an assortment of ribbons, paper flowers, pine cones, beads and shimmering glass ornaments. Painted dolls congregated around the wrapped gifts at the bottom of the tree, accompanied by wax figurines of rosy-cheeked cherubs.
Lilly was pulled out of her sightseeing when the aroma of roasted venison permeated her nostrils. She turned to see that the footmen were carting out delectable-looking selections on sizable silver platters. Her mouth watered when she spotted some of the delicacies: stuffed goose, turkey over gravy, mince pies and capon, along with various assortments of soups, cheeses and fruits.
The next hour passed as wonderfully as it could for a famished eight year old. Lilly ate to her heart's content, her stomach stuffed with her favourite foods from the Christmas feast. However, she decided that she still had room for a bit more once she spotted the pudding, just freshly flamed, being brought out. The concoction of spices, especially the cinnamon and clove, combined with the fruity, brandy-tinged scent was a siren's call luring her to indulge.
Thus, she did.
"A miner!"
Rick shook his head. Grabbing at the air under his chin, he puffed his chest out.
"Uhhh, a frigate bird?" Lilly asked.
He gave her an odd look and shook his head once more. He pointed to her then the fireplace behind him.
"Krampus?" She tried again.
He smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead, letting out an aggravated sigh.
"Ooh, I know." Ella chimed in. "Father Christmas?"
"Yes!" Rick turned to her with a relieved grin. His eyes narrowed back at Lilly. "You're terrible at this game considering that you suggested it."
"I am not!" Lilly insisted, refusing to admit that she had never played acted charades before– only having heard about it in passing from her twin sisters. "You're the one who can't gesticulate properly here."
"How so? Just how is putting things in a sack a miner and grabbing a beard a frigate bird? And why Krampus? I was pointing to the hanging stockings!"
"I thought you were digging then doing a frigate bird's mating dance! And it looked like you were pointing to the fire from here." She irritatedly countered. "Excuse me for not being able to read your mind."
Rick merely rolled his eyes.
As they quarrelled, Lady Samantha watched them in amusement from the sofa while Adaira slept, snuggled against her chest. The five of them were settled in a sitting room down the hall from the ballroom after the feast, with the children too young to participate in the festivities and Lady Samantha voluntarily opting out to look after them, with assistance from her two staff members. Meanwhile, Lilly's sisters had retired with their invited friends to the other sitting rooms, most likely gossipping about the latest events in society and playing their own parlour games.
After several rounds of charades where unsurprisingly, no one could guess correctly when it was Lilly's turn, the three of them had moved onto a more collaborative activity. They were currently sprawled out on the woollen rug, preoccupied with forming different shapes using wooden tangram blocks.
However, this activity was not much of an improvement either as Lilly and Rick were currently stuck arguing on how to form a cyclist while a tired Ella just looked at them warily.
"No, no, no. That small triangle goes to the left of those two big ones."
"No, it should be to the right."
"But it's supposed to be a foot in front of the bicycle's back wheel!"
"It should still be behind the wheel, not in front!"
"That makes no sense at all! No one rides a bike with one foot sticking out in the air."
Someone softly coughed from the entrance, interrupting their argument. Everyone turned to look at another maid that had entered the room.
She curtsied, blushing. "My apologies for interrupting. My Lady has sent me here to escort Miss Ella to her room as she says it is now her bedtime."
"But it's not fair!" Ella protested, blue eyes flashing indignantly. "I was having so much fun. Why is it only me?"
"Because you're the youngest, dear sister," Lilly calmly explained, "so you need more rest. Go sleep. Sweet dreams, Ella."
Grumbling, Ella rose to her feet.
"Goodnight, Lill. Farewell, Your Ladyship, My Lord." She curtsied to both Lady Samantha and her son, then exited the room with the maid in tow.
Lilly and Rick were about to resume their prior discussion when a loud wail pierced the room. They turned to Lady Samantha, currently holding a very awake and very angry Adaira, whose face had turned red from screaming as tears began to stream down her face.
Lady Samantha sighed. "Someone's hungry. Stay here, I will be right back."
Rising from the sofa, she went to the door and with the nursemaid in tow, approached the Linton family maid standing outside the room on duty.
"Would you be able to show me to another room currently not in use?"
The maid nodded. "Of course, My Lady."
They headed down the hall in the opposite direction of the ballroom, walking off in a hurried pace considering Adaira's screams had escalated to ear-deafening levels.
With silence settling in the room, laughter and the springy, lively tones of the quadrille from the ballroom drifted over to Lilly's ears. Unable to resist, she got up and strode off.
"What are you doing?" Rick hissed as Lilly went out into the hall. "Mother said to stay here."
"Then you stay here." Lilly retorted. "If she returns before I do, then tell her I went to the powder room."
She turned to the Ambrose family's nanny in the room and the two stared at each other wordlessly for several moments, Lilly's defiant glare persistent as the nanny's eyes narrowed. After what seemed like an eternity, the nanny harrumphed, breaking her stare in the grudging knowledge that she had no control over the young girl's actions. Unless she run the risk of tarnishing her employer's reputation through blatant disregard for the rules of hospitality towards the host's family.
Lilly smirked gleefully as she took off in pursuit, following the music. Her feet deposited her a few paces away from the main entrance of the ballroom. Lurking in the darker corners of the hallway to avoid being seen, she leaned forward to have a closer look.
Inside the dazzlingly lit ballroom, people celebrated the night away. Small groups of people socialised animatedly around the periphery of the vast room, deeply engrossed in what appeared to be fascinating topics of conversation. Others seemed to preoccupy themselves with the refreshments at the tables, clearly not sated after their recent meal. But a majority of guests were spinning gracefully under the massive, twinkling chandeliers in time to the quartet playing near them, their shoes gliding along on the panelled dark wood floor in time to the music.
Mesmerised, all Lilly could do was stare– something that was seemingly and quickly becoming a pastime as of late.
"Quite a sight, isn't it?" A voice said right at her ear.
She jumped, about to scream aloud had she not recognised who had joined her.
Turning to Rick, she glared. "What happened to 'Mother said to stay here'?" She mimicked his earlier words, her voice an eerie replica of his.
"Well, I remembered there was something I forgot to do earlier, so I followed you." He simply answered.
"How were you able to slip past your nanny?" She squinted at him suspiciously.
"I have my ways." His mouth held an impish tilt.
Her eyebrow rose, but she instead chose to address his earlier words. "What did you forget?"
"To give you this." Reaching into the pocket of his trousers, he pulled out a wrapped package, the entirety of it fitting into his outstretched hand.
"A present? For me?"
He nodded and Lilly could not help but to object. "But I didn't get you anything."
"That's quite all right. Here, please take it. I would be hurt if you didn't."
"Well…if you insist." She conceded, tentatively accepting the present. "May I open it?"
He nodded again.
She did and gasped, the dim lighting from the hallway glinting on a tiny, nearly golden figurine.
She turned the yellow piggy, examining it in greater detail for a silent minute. She finally raised her widened eyes to his, her mouth slightly ajar.
"You remembered." She gripped the figurine tighter as she whispered, referring to her very first words to him where she had embarrassingly exclaimed her love for yellow piggies.
One side of his mouth quirked up. "Of course. You also used to mention them often on our pretend adventures back then."
She smiled, recalling how numerous ones would somehow involve the fearless Emperor Napoleon and his loyal comrades. She tucked the figurine and its packaging safely away within the deep pocket of her dress.
"Thank you." She stepped forward and threw her arms around him. "I love it."
He froze, but then his arms slowly wrapped around her, returning her embrace. It had been far too long since they had last seen each other.
The music from the ballroom slowed to a waltz and they both pulled away.
"You know…" His eyes glinted mischievously. "Just because only the adults are dancing doesn't mean that we can't either."
"What do you mean?" Lilly was confused.
He stepped back, bowing deeply to her. Holding his hand out, he mockingly deepened his voice and said:
"Miss Linton, will you grant me the honour of this dance?"
She stared at him, then caught on, fluttering her eyelashes dramatically. She curtsied and took his hand.
"Why, of course, My Lord." She graciously accepted in an equally ridiculous falsetto.
Naturally, they were both rather clumsy at it. A pair of single-legged storks hopping around would have passed more for a waltz than their attempt. Especially as they kept trampling on the other person's feet and awkwardly crashing into one another multiple times. But after a while, they seemed to grasp a semblance of rhythm, supporting each other and moving to their own made-up steps matching the tune's tempo.
He whirled her around with a flourish and giddy with happiness, she laughed. He joined in too, and for those few moments, they both were blissfully lost in their own enchanted world. The music slowly faded as the dance came to an end, the final notes resounding in the air.
They let go, identical grins on their faces and cheeks flushed with excitement.
"Merry Christmas, Rick."
"Merry Christmas, Lilly."
A historical tidbit for anyone interested: from my research, the origin of the phrase "Merry Christmas" is rather murky, having been recorded as far back to the year 1534, where Bishop John Fisher sent a letter to Thomas Cromwell, wishing him a "mery Christmas". The phrase was often used during the holiday season and became heavily mainstreamed in 1843, with the first commercial Christmas card printed with the greeting "A Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to You". The same year, Charles Dickens also used the phrase in one of his prominent works, A Christmas Carol.
However around the same time, the word "merry" started to be associated with a more negative connotation, by referring to noisy jolliness and even slight intoxication. The phrase was questioned for its morality, from suspicion by Methodist churchmen seeking to promote sobriety in Victorian society during the Temperance movement. Ergo, the phrase "Happy Christmas" was also used in lieu, evidenced by the closing salutation in Clement Clarke Moore's 1823 poem, "The Night Before Christmas". In more modern times this substitute became widely used in the U.K., after Queen Elizabeth II would wish her subjects a "Happy Christmas" in her annual Christmas broadcasts.