Merry Christmas!
Sorry for the long leave of absence, but thank you to all of those who have stuck it out and read this story!
Please Review! :)
Chapter 10: A Merry Little Christmas
Riverfoot Hall, Kent England December 24, 1843
"Run Kara!"
"Don't let him get away!"
"Faster"
"LEFT, LEFT!"
"EEEP!"
"Get out of the way Lucy!"
"He's headed for the door!"
"DIVE DIANA!"
The pig formally known as Doyle, but who would now and forever be referred to as Sausage in Waiting, made a break for freedom. Slipping and falling down the staircase in a mad dash. Managing to wriggle free of the petticoat and vest that the girls had struggled for the past half hour to put him in.
Following Doyle down the stairs came a barrage of little soldiers in skirts.
Despite their valiant efforts, Doyle made it to the landing first.
Kara slid down the banister. Diana, Barbara, Donna, Cassie, close on her heels. Lucy, who was in tears not wanting to touch that horrid pig again came last.
"GOT HIM!"
Skidding shoes on wood screeched as Kara dove for the pig.
Doyle had grown wise to her tactics and scurried to the open doorway.
The troop hit the landing as Doyle disappeared into the parlor.
They stood frozen.
"EEEEEEKKKKKK!"
The girls covered their ears as a high-pitched scream rang through the house.
Lucy squeaked, too petrified to cry.
Kara led the charge. Advancing into the pristine yellow room.
Mrs. Lane stood on top a dainty ottoman that swayed and groaned under the unwanted weight. She clawed at the air with one hand while the other hand raised her skirt so high in the air that it was an embarrassment.
Cowering on the floor, locked in Mrs. Lane's gaze, sprawled Doyle.
He'd had the added displeasure of being boxed on the ear with Mrs. Lane's fan.
The poor creature.
All he wanted was to escape from this nightmare and return to the safety of the barn.
"GET IT AWAY, GET IT AWAY! BEAST!" Mrs. Lane screamed.
Kara and Donna fell on him! Grabbing him around the middle and wrestling him down with their combined weight.
"Hurray! You did it!"
Cheered Cassie who had found the whole experience a delightful game.
Diana, Barbara, and even Lucy offered grateful applause.
The girls were too busy celebrating to notice that Mrs. Lane was still perched on the ottoman.
"Ahem,"
The little troop stopped cheering. Aunt Martha was watching them.
"Caroline?"
"He's for the Opera! He's the star!"
Kara took her hand off Doyle's back. The pig began to squirm again, and Kara hurriedly went back to helping Donna hold him down.
Hearing that the pig was an actor Oliver, who had been watching the scene from his chair, burst into laughter. Throwing himself back and causing his chair to teeter.
Ignoring Oliver Aunt Martha held out a hand to help Mrs. Lane down from her perch.
She refused to budge.
"Girls, take the pig back to the barn."
Aunt Martha tried to soothe Mrs. Lane who had begun to whimper.
A chorus of protest rose up from the group. Begging to keep Doyle inside. Declaring the whole production ruined without their main player.
Tears rolled down Oliver's face.
Mrs. Lane began to cry.
Doyle let out a loud SNORT that echoed across the room and vibrated in everyone's ears.
The snort was the final straw.
Mrs. Lane's skin blanched a deathly pale, her eyes rolled back, and her body began to crumble towards the ground.
Oliver jumped to his feet! Managing to catch the fainted woman before she hit the ground. Laying her on the settee. Aunt Martha began slapping Mrs. Lane's wrists to try and revive her.
Turning Martha spied the frozen group and Doyle watching with wide eyes.
"Out!"
The five leaped towards the exit. Cassie, Donna, and Kara pulling and pushing the squealing Doyle through the parlor doors.
Lucy stood rooted to the floor. Watching Mrs. Kent try to revive her mother while Oliver fanned her with a handkerchief.
Diana looked back.
Running back, she grabbed Lucy's arm.
"Come on!"
Pulling her out the door, kicking it closed behind them.
Oliver hollered for his wife as the door closed cutting off his words.
In the foyer, the stern eyes and crossed arms of Big Barda stopped them.
Doyle gave out a squeak as if to ask the giantess to save him from these ruffians in petticoats.
With one motion Barda bent down and hoisted Doyle up under her arm. Opening the front door she marched out into the snowy terrain and trudged towards the barn.
Donna strained and pushed. Closing the front door behind Barda. The rest looked on impressed by the maid's feet of strength.
The rapid tip taping of heeled shoes on the polished wood floor beat through the hall.
Dinah scurried towards the parlor. Her wide skirt swooshing as it brushed the floor.
Seeing the congregation still in the foyer she waved her hand at them like a flock of chickens.
"Make haste!"
Dinah opened the parlor door and slipped inside.
A loud moaning rang from behind the parlor door and they took to the stairs in a flurry to get away. With Lucy taking the lead.
An hour later, shut away in an upstairs sitting room, the six girls discussed what to do. Now that their main character had to be recast.
"Well, there is only one thing to do, Kara will have to play the pig." Barbara decided.
"What! I don't want to play a pig! I'm the Lady!"
"Yes, but now you have to be the pig as well."
Barbara obviously had no consideration of Kara's outrage.
"It technically is the same thing, Kara."
Lucy's mousy little tone was about to drive Kara to murder.
"Why don't you be the pig Barbara, if it is so important, or why don't you take it Lucy?" demanded Kara.
Panic crossed Lucy's face.
"B-But I'm the sorceress, right Diana?"
Lucy began to wring her hands and Kara rolled her eyes and groaned.
"I am sorry Kara but Barbara's right, it is too late now to assign everyone new parts and you have the least lines," said Diana.
"Besides, you're the shortest." Added Donna.
As she lounged in the window seat.
"No, I'm not! Cassie is half an inch shorter than me at least!"
"Perhaps, but I can't play the pig. I have to be Themis."
"And why is that?"
"Because I am the only one with blonde curls and Themis has blonde curls."
Cassie gave her head a little shake, causing her natural curls to bounce and jump about her head.
Kara watched her preen with absolute loathing.
"Themis could be a brunette." Said Donna.
Whose hair was light brown and straight as a pin. She didn't like the idea of Cassie being able to get what she wanted because of her looks.
"No, she couldn't! Haven't you ever seen the drawing of her in Aunt Alexa's book hmmm? She has blonde curls!"
"She has curls but you have no proof their blonde, the picture is a sketch in black ink! The artist didn't color in the hair."
"Which means it's blonde."
"Well if you get to be Themis because of that, then I want to be a tiger," said Barbara.
"What?"
"What's wrong with being a horse? You were fine with it when I wrote it?"
Diana wasn't sure she was on board with everyone taking creative license.
"Well if being blonde is grounds for being Themis, having red hair is grounds for being a tiger. Besides, it's more exotic."
"Ugh fine!"
Diana honestly didn't see the difference. So long as Barbara remembered to play her other roles according to the script.
With the question of the pig settled they started making sure they had everything ready for the performance. Rehearsing their lines one last time.
While they were discussing costuming Donna became bored. Turning her attention to the window.
"Look there's a carriage!"
The other girls fell over each other trying to get to the window. Pressing against the cold glass and almost crushing Donna in their excitement.
"It must be Clark and Lois!" cried Lucy.
"We have to tell Ma!"
Downstairs
"Clark! Welcome home!"
Mrs. Kent held out her arms to her son.
Clark bent down to hug his mother. She seemed smaller than before.
"Lois dear, Happy Christmas."
Martha hugged her daughter-in-law with the same affection she had shown her son. Beaming with pride at the pair.
"Come inside both of you."
"I'll help Desmond with the luggage Ma."
"Very good Clark, I'll send Oliver out to help you."
Martha and Lois made their way into the house as Clark began untying their trunk from the carriage.
Inside Martha sent Oliver out to help and went to give Cook the final headcount for dinner.
Meanwhile, Dinah, Lois, and Mrs. Lane settled in the parlor.
"I am so happy for you Lois, Clark must be thrilled."
Dinah motioned for Lois to sit next to her.
Lois beamed. A little smug, she sat next to the other woman. Completely drunk on her own triumph.
"It is a relief, especially after you made such a disaster of it last time."
Mrs. Lane scanned her daughter's form with a critical eye.
Lois's face blanched as she curled her fists.
Dinah took one of Lois's hands and gave it a little squeeze.
"Another mistake like that and your husband will have cause to look elsewhere."
Dinah gasped.
Lois jerked her hand free from Dinah's grasp.
Every fiber of her being burning with rage as the sting of her mother's words hummed in her ears.
Mrs. Lane watched her daughter expectantly. Waiting for the inevitable, Lois losing her temper….again.
I won't give you the satisfaction, you old crow.
Lois forced her clenched hands open.
Managing to arrange her expression into a picture of serenity.
Dinah watched her change in expression like she was seeing a dog walk on its hind legs. Mrs. Lane arched an eyebrow in skepticism.
Yet Lois hadn't quite won against her natural instincts.
"Thank you mother, for reminding me that I am nothing more than a broodmare."
Mrs. Lane's lips curled into a benevolent smile. A lesson she had been trying to teach for years had finally been learned.
"For a woman with no son position is always tenuous. You wouldn't want to end up like the Princeton girl, subservient to the charity of others."
Lois' mouth dropped open.
Dinah tried to regain her tongue and opened her mouth, but no words came out.
BANG!
The parlor door burst open and a blonde haired streak threw herself at Lois.
A passel of little girls followed. Bombarding Lois with questions and wishes of "Merry Christmas!"
Lucy paused once in the room and curtsy. Standing quietly a little away from the group with her hands folded.
After sustaining a hundred greetings and introductions Lois noticed her sister waiting in the corner.
Just as mousy as ever.
Lois mentally chastised herself.
She had made a mental promise to try and reach out to her younger sister during this visit.
With a bright, and a little forced, smile she turned to her sister.
"Hello, Lucy."
"Hello, Lois….Did you have a pleasant journey?"
Figures she couldn't come up with anything more interesting to say than that.
Again Lois checked herself.
Lucy's eyes darted back and forth between Lois and the floor.
When she spoke her soft voice grated in Lois' ears!
She wanted to shake the girl senseless! Maybe then she'd gained some gumption.
Lois sighed. Maybe sibling closeness wasn't meant for them.
"It was fine, thank you."
Lucy nodded, looking at her hands.
"Was London co—"
"Lulu! Run and fetch me my fan, and for heaven's sake! Stand up, straight child!"
Mrs. Lane cut off her youngest daughter.
Lucy's face flushed pink as she left the room.
Dinah bit her lip. Lois rolled her eyes as Lucy did her mother's bidding. The other children watched her go with sympathy, but Diana's blood boiled as she looked at Mrs. Lane's entitled face.
With two strides she crossed the rug and stood above the hateful woman who sat in a chair.
"Here," Diana said and dropped her own fan into Mrs. Lane's lap.
Lois tried to stifle a laugh that turned into a snort. Her mother's face glowed a deep beet red.
The door opened and Oliver sauntered in.
"Well, are we all getting along in here?"
7:00 o'clock that evening
Diana laid her head back against the tub's rim. Closing her eyes, listening to the peaceful sound of the fire crackling in the hearth.
She loved this time of day.
Every evening at 7:00 o'clock, while the rest of the household was preparing for dinner she took a bath.
A luxury which disturbed her to discover was not conventional among the English.
The flabbergasted servants didn't understand why she expected to bathe every day! Even Aunt Martha found her request extravagant.
Dear it really isn't necessary to bathe oneself every day. The use of a good soap and clean cloth is quite enough to keep one's face and privacies hygienic. And the burden it puts on those below you is strenuous. At least bathe in the kitchen so the water can be poured directly into the tub. Then no one will have to carry it all the way upstairs. It will surely cool by the time it reaches you.
It may have been childish to do so, but, Diana completely ignored her Aunt. Continuing to take her daily bath in her room.
The servants they began to see her as a spoiled Princess accustom to getting her way. Not entirely untrue. They could not understand why she insisted on continuing such a foreign custom. In their eyes, it was unnecessary and only increased their workload.
In an act of defiance, the housekeeper took the maids complaints to the Dowager Countess. Imploring her to make her niece stop burdening the servants with her whims.
Deciding that an ultimatum may be the best Aunt Martha said Diana could have her bath. However, the servants weren't required to fill the tub in her room.
No water, no bath! Unless Diana wished to fill it herself.
This arrangement pleased the servants. They were certain that once the Princess had to do her own work she would give up. It was also satisfactory to Aunt Martha. Who believed Diana was unaware that she was taking advantage of those below her station. It also kept her from the unpleasant task of having to deny her outright.
As for Diana, she didn't think about the trouble she was causing. She couldn't stand the idea of going without a daily bath. How was one supposed to remain clean?
Coming from a land where hot winds blew and sand stretched on for miles a bath was an almost sacred thing.
Diana sighed.
The harem baths had tiled walls decorated with bright colors and jewels. Carved basins of smooth marble sat into the floor, filled sparkling clear water. Steam filled the space bringing the scent of oils and perfumes, refreshing the skin after the dry desert sun. Soft laughter echoed off the tile as women relaxed and talked. Servants walked on silent feet massaging shoulders and combing hair with sandalwood combs.
It was a ritual, and she couldn't let it die. Even if this tin bowl was all she had.
But she would not bathe in the kitchen!
She could accept that this precious time was not accompanied by the scents of lavender and incense. But she was not willing to accept the stench of boiling meat and overcooked vegetables. Servants chopping and hauling all around. NO! The kitchen would never do.
In the end, the stalemate failed.
Because of Big Barda.
When everyone else had refused to Barda pumped the water from the yard. Barda heated it over the fire in a copper kettle, and Barda climbed the endless stairs to pour it into the tub. Never saying a word.
She took on the burden as if it had always been hers. Diana got her bath and never knew the battle she had started.
With Barda doing all the heavy lifting the others resentment towards Diana evaporated. Her requests had annoyed them, but they disliked the unsociable Big Barda more. They enjoyed seeing her do the extra work, even if no one had asked her to.
The door opened. Diana left her dreams of bathhouses and opened her eyes to see Barda waiting with a large sheet.
After drying off Barda helped her dress for dinner.
Diana still wasn't thrilled with how much clothing she had to wear. That corset was a menace! Nor how long it took to get ready, but she did enjoy the finished product.
Turning from side to side she inspected her new gown.
White satin, off the shoulder neckline, and delicate little sleeves of silk organza. Embroidered with little leaves in silver thread on the organza overskirt. The crowning glory, a red silk flower trimmed with green ribbon and glass holly berries on the bodice. There was a similar construction of silk ivy and false berries pinned right above her hip.
Diana lifted her skirts to view her matching slippers and stockinged legs. She felt a little guilty at having received a new gown when Kara hadn't and had to wear one of her Sunday dresses. Diana had grown so much since coming to live at the Kent's that none of the clothes Lois had ordered fit her anymore. So, there was little choice but to buy her a new wardrobe and donate the old to the poor.
At least, the poor needn't worry about receiving used items. I hardly had time to wear all of them.
"Sit down," said Barda
Diana looked to see the maid motioning for her to take her seat in front of the vanity.
Diana smiled.
"Just a minute Big—Uh I mean Barda."
Diana rushed over to the chest at the foot of her bed and pulled something out. Hiding it behind her back.
With a smile so wide, it made her cheeks hurt she rushed back over to the maid and thrust out her hand announcing…
"MERRY CHRISTMAS BARDA!"
The giantess looked down at the open palm and took the handkerchief.
She turned the plain piece of white cloth over in her hand to see a large, and rather crooked, B embroidered on it.
She looked up from the handkerchief at the girl who still seemed about ready to burst with excitement.
"It's a Christmas present," Diana explained. "Kara said that at Christmas we are supposed to give gifts, so I made you this."
Barda nodded her head.
"It will be good for dusting."
Diana supposed, for Barda, it was a thank you.
Reached into her pocket Barda produced a small box. It had a small square of cream-colored parchment tied with a red ribbon.
"This came for you. Now sit down."
The initial excitement that Barda had also gotten her a present died. Obeying Diana took a seat.
The maid pulled the brush through her raven locks as Diana untied the ribbon and unfolded the paper.
It turned out to be a note written in small uniform letters that were so neat they almost looked printed.
Dear Lady Diana,
I am sorry that I cannot accept your generous invitation to Christmas Eve dinner. Which unfortunately means I will also be unable to attend the debut of your first Opera. Though I am sure it will be a resounding success and I have all the faith in the world in your skills as a playwright. It was beyond kind of you to think of an old man during your holiday festivities. But I am afraid circumstances do not allow me to be away from my duties on this Christmastide. Though I do wish you, dearest Lady, the happiest of Christmases and look forward to your visit come Boxing Day.
Many Happy Returns of the Season,
Alfred Pennyworth, Butler, Wayne Castle Kent, England.
Postscript,
I have sent along a present that I hope you will cherish, as I have these many years. It was given to me by a great Lady who very much resembled yourself, whom I believe would have wished it to be passed on to you.
Diana opened the box and smiled.
A delicate chain bracelet made of linked gold circles was inside. A gold pendant hung from it with a swooping and elegant D engraved into one side of its surface.
With a squeal, Diana fastened the clasp around her wrist and watched the lamp-light dance across the polished gold.
She delighted in her present.
What luck that it has my initial on it.
Barda sat down the brush and reached for the fine-toothed-comb.
"When is Vanessa coming to do my hair?"
Diana asked as she continued to inspect her present.
"I am doing your hair tonight,"
Barda began to section bits of mane with the comb.
Diana's head shot up.
"What? B-But!"
"Don't jerk."
Barda reached for some pins.
Diana closed her eyes, sure that soon her scalp would have bald spots from Barda's iron paws.
Watching through the cracked door crouched Lucy. Smiling she watched Barda create the curled Grecian style Diana preferred.
Lucy was the one who had taught the awkward ogress her new skills.
Her own hair was always quaffed with the utmost and she was the only one allowed to fix her mother's hair. Mrs. Lane didn't trust the hired girl who was their only servant.
Pleased with her prodigy's progress Lucy slipped away to finish getting ready for supper.
7:45 Christmas Eve, Riverfoot Hall.
The table groaned with the weight of Christmas delicacies. Roast potatoes, gravy, puddings, bread, vegetables, and sweets! Pies, tarts, biscuits, jellies! As well as fragrant soups and broths filled the whole house with mouth-watering aromas, and at its center was the Christmas goose.
Donna, Cassie, and Kara peered at the sumptuous feast with wide hungry eyes. They waited painfully for the others to come downstairs until cook drove them from the dining room. They had to wait for their dinner in the hall.
Finally, the last guest made it downstairs and they could all enter the dining room.
While Clark carved the goose and the rest laughed and toasted. Diana took a look around the table at everyone in their finery enjoying the festivities.
Mrs. Lane's dress had large billowing sleeves that she was battling to keep from sliding into her soup. Next to her sat Lucy. Who looked angelic in her flouncy pink dress with frothy ribbon bows that matched the pair in her hair, which she'd curled in long ringlets in the front and a low bun in the back smoothed with pomade.
Quite a different picture from Kara who sat next to her in a brown dress. Kara's stick-straight blonde hair was threatening to escape its braids. Also, gravy was dribbling down her pinafore.
Next to Kara sat Cassie and Donna who were matching in their simple dresses of red and green tartan. On the other side was Lois. She looked stunning in a mauve gown that was the latest fashion. It had a multi-tiered skirt and brought out the purple in her eyes.
At the head of the table was Clark. He had chosen a coat of royal blue that matched his eyes. Which were on full display as he had not worn his eyeglasses to the meal.
Clark raised a toast to the joys of the previous years and the expectations of those to follow.
Oliver whispered in his wife's ear and laughed as she blushed. Dinah smiled and adjusted his collar before reprimanding him for making jokes during Clark's speech.
Diana turned her attention to Colonel Lane, who was sitting next to her. He ignored everyone and ate with a ferocity that showed he was not a man given to genteel mannerisms.
Commissioner and Mrs. Gordon were also present. Sitting on either side of Barbara. Mrs. Gordon was enjoying a pleasant conversation with Aunt Martha. The Commissioner was trying to get Barbara to hand over the book she had snuck into dinner.
As they all laughed and ate, breathing in the familiarity of each other's company, Diana listened.
Story after story went around the table. Times gone by and shared memories. A joint history that she was not a part of.
Diana tried to keep busy wondering about the significance of everything from the food to the origins of the holiday. Oliver had tried to explain it to her but she became lost after he said something about a virgin giving birth. It was all so confusing.
"Diana!"
Diana blinked in surprise and shut out her muddled thoughts.
"What Donna?"
"Did your Aunt say if we could use the old dress Vanessa found?"
Diana smiled and nodded.
"Yes, she just said we have to be careful with it."
Donna beamed from across the table.
"This is going to be the best Opera ever!"
Dinner finished and the adults made their way to the parlor where a row of chairs was set in front of a homemade stage. Complete with a rung-up curtain that had been borrowed from an upstairs bedroom.
Taking their seats, the audience awaited the performance.
A swarm of yellow curls poked out from behind the curtain and nodded. Dinah made her way to the piano which they'd pushed to the right of the "stage" and played a few introductory cords.
The head disappeared and Barbara came thru the curtain, careful to keep it closed behind her. She wore a billowy nightdress and held a "scroll" made of discarded newspaper.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, I, Melpomene, Muse of Drama, welcome you. The tale you are about to see is one of great struggle and perils. Where love to the tested and good must sacrifice for the better of all. Without further Au due. I present for your enjoyment the premiere production of, The Knights Pig!"
The audience clapped. Barbara bowed and scurried off stage, the curtain drew, and the scene began.
Dinah began playing a light classical piece in the background.
The lady, Kara wearing one of Ma's embroidered silk shawls, danced onto center stage. Miming a walk through the woods she paused to pick flowers.
Next came the dashing Knight! Played by Diana, because she was the tallest. Wearing a pair of Clark's old trousers with her hair tucked beneath a cap and a mustache painted over her upper lip. She carried a "sword" made from the handle of an old parasol.
Alternating between speaking and singing, the Knight introduced himself to the Lady and vowed to love her for all eternity.
After a bought of shyness, Kara forgetting some of her lines, the Lady confessed her love for the Knight. Offering him a phantom rose as a symbol of her devotion.
Thunder cracked! Pots banged by Vanessa in the background. The two lovers clung to one another in fear.
Out of the woods came the dread enchantress, Circe! Played to great effect by Donna in an old sheet pinned together with one of Dinah's brooches.
Circe scoffed at the pair! Calling love an imaginary game of fools!
The Knight drew his sword to face the goddess.
With a cackle, Circe produced a wand, which was actually a leg she had pried off a stool when no one was looking and cast a spell on the lady.
Reaching a climax of high notes, Dinah changed the music to one of foreboding crescendos and sharps.
With a wave of her wand, Circe cast her magic, a handful of flour, and disappeared back into the woods with a sinister laugh.
Coughing and sputtering the Lady transformed! And with a loud snort became a piglet.
NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! The Knight mourned his lost Lady. Vowing to the moon and stars to not rest until he had saved her from this unfortunate fate. Meanwhile, the Pig, took off running into the woods, dropping her false nose in the process.
A ripple of laughter came from the audience.
Now on a quest, the Knight searched for the pig, but to no avail. Dinah played a sad tune. The hero spoke-sang of his determination and plan to enlist the kindly sorceress who lived nearby.
Right on cue, the sorceress appeared! Played by Lucy in a paper crown. Which she insisted a sorceress would wear since she could conjure anything. She also carried a vase which stood in for a crystal ball.
In a mix of gibberish and Arabic, which Diana had taught her, and a few words were spoken backward, the sorceress cast her spell. Searching for the little piggy with her magic. But the spell failed, and the Knight turned away in sorrow and fell to his knees in despair.
Somewhere in the audience, there came a shushing sound as another spectator blew his nose.
"Fear not oh brave Knight!" Declared the Sorceress. "Another plan I have will return you to your lady love."
Spirits lifted the Knight raised his head and begged the Sorceress to reveal what he must do to save his love.
"Deep in the Underworld, where Hades reigns and dread Persephone rules. There is the one who will know where this trickster and outcast of the gods will hide. Then you may find her and win back the life of the one you love." The sorceress decreed, forgetting to sing her lines as Dinah had changed tunes again.
"But how will I find this informant, oh kindly Sorceress?" the Knight implored.
"I will travel with you and safeguard you from harm."
And so, they set off. Climbing imaginary mountains and valleys before coming to the bank of the river Styx. Which was a blanket strung between two chairs.
There the heroes met Themis. Played by Cassie in an empire wasted gold ball gown that they had found in the attic. Holding high her scales of judgment, which were actually cooking scales borrowed from the kitchen.
Unfortunately, Themis's costume was too big. So, she kept having to set down her scales so she could hold up her sleeves.
"Here comes your informant brave heroes, be sure to not look at her directly." Themis directed as the heroes tied blindfolds over their eyes.
Across the river came Medusa, the terror of men, or rather Barbara in a paper-mâché hat of snakes.
Singing with flare Medusa told the heroes that Circe was hiding on her island. Warning that a test of true love awaited them there.
After paying the boatman, Donna, with a bag over her head, the heroes left the underworld for Circe's secret island.
Arriving they battled Circe's slaves. Those former heroes whom Circe had transformed into animals. Really it was Cassie and Barbara throwing cushions at them, but Barbara made a point of roaring so the audience would know she was a tiger.
Finally having defeated her captives Circe appeared. The Knight asked what he must do to save his Lady.
With a cruel smile, Circe told him.
"Prove your love for her! Never in all the years, I have wandered have I found true love in the heart of a man. Prove to me that you have this rare thing and I will return to you the one you love true."
Dinah began playing an emotional aria on the piano.
The Knight sang of his love! Sang of how his separation from her had taken the color from his life and now he wept tears of blue. Longing for nothing other than her.
At the end of the song, silence fell.
Even the piano ceased to play.
They hadn't known what a beautiful voice Diana had.
Remembering the play, Circe raised her hands and pronounced the payment fair. The curse is broken!
With a cheer, the audience clapped as the pig, now once again Kara dressed as the lady, ran across the stage and the lovers reunited.
The Audience stood and applauded while the cast took a bow.
"Bravo! Well done girls!" cheered Aunt Martha.
Even Mrs. Lane seemed to have enjoyed the performance. Though the spectators had viewed it as more of a comedy than the tragedy Diana had intended.
Excited energy palpable the players disbanded. Running around the room accepting praise from their elders.
"It really was very well done Diana, and I must admit you would make an inspiring hero."
Clark smiled at his cousin and Diana beamed while she wiped the last remnants of the mustache from her face.
"Truly a worthy advisory for any opponent."
The room fell silent.
Diana turned to the doorway.
A tall man with jet black hair and dark blue eyes stared back, his mouth turning into a kind smile.
"Bruce!"
Diana ran, throwing her arms around his neck.
"You came back."
"I told you I'd always come back, Princess."
"At long last, the prodigal has returned!" Cheered Oliver as he sauntered over.
Diana released Bruce and Oliver gave him a hearty slap on the back.
Everyone began to file in. Offering wishes of "Happy Christmas" and questions on his travels.
"Will you stay for parlor games? And there is still plenty of food left I could have cook fix you a plate." Offered Martha.
"No, thank you Lady Kent, but I must be on my way. I only wished to stop by and wish you all a happy holiday."
Martha hesitated.
"Bruce dear, you know that you're always welcome in our home."
"I know, thank you Lady Kent."
Stretching on tiptoe she hugged him.
Bruce stooped and returned the embrace with his free arm.
Releasing her grip Martha let him go and walked from the room.
The rest began to disperse. Either busy tearing down the production or changing out of costumes. Except for Colonel Lane, who was on the hunt for a good glass of brandy.
When nearly everyone had left Clark walked over to Bruce.
"Where have you been?" Clark asked, glancing at Dinah, Oliver, and Diana who were busy putting chairs back.
"Your message said we needed to talk. Then I didn't hear anything for weeks. What were you doing?"
Bruce's smile disappeared as he watched the others work.
"Later Clark."
"Is it something to do with Diana? If it involves my family, I have a right to know."
"I said later, Clark. We'll talk tomorrow. Right now, I have somewhere I need to be."
Bruce walked past his friend.
"Diana, this is for you."
Bruce held out a brown paper package.
Diana's eyes sparkled as she took the gift and ripped away the brown paper.
It was a book, bound in royal blue with gold writing that flourished across the cover in a familiar script.
"A thousand and one nights?"
Diana looked up at Bruce, who was much more on eye level then when he left.
"It's in Arabic, so you don't forget."
Another smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.
Tears welled in her eyes as she hugged the book to her chest.
"Thank you, Bruce. Thank you so much."
Midnight Christmas, Road to Gotham.
Bruce put his horse in the stable and began the long walk up to the castle. Pulling his collar up against the wind that howled in his ears.
Cresting the hill, fighting back against the snow and wind he crossed under the ancient gate. Putting out a hand he followed the stone wall into the courtyard.
Behind the thick fortress walls, the wind no longer whistled in his ears allowing him to raise his head.
In the parlor window, a Christmas tree decorated with a dozen red candles glowed in the darkness. In the soft light, he saw the figure of a man sitting patiently in a straight-back-chair. Just as he did each evening Bruce was away. Making sure he would be there to welcome him home.
"Merry Christmas Alfred."
December 25th Queens Abbey, East Sussex England, 1843.
The younger woman curtsied respectfully. Keeping her eyes down and hands folded behind her back as she waited to be spoken to.
"Francis has decided that you will be allowed to accept Sabastian's invitation this year. You will be leaving first thing in the morning when the stage passes through."
Her head shot up so quickly she almost forgot to conceal her excitement behind a penitent face.
"Thank you, Aunt Hortense."
The elder continued to eye her through narrowed eyes.
"Your Uncle expects you to behave yourself appropriately. If we hear one word of misconduct you will be sent back at once. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Aunt Hortense."
The woman nodded, seemingly satisfied, for the time being.
"There is a reception, your cousins have been invited to attend."
Again, her head shot up, but she forgot to conceal her excitement.
"May I go?"
"Quiet! Vanity, it's always vanity with you, isn't it? Just like her."
The young woman bowed her head, so her Aunt wouldn't see the hatred in her eyes.
Taking the gesture as one of penitence Hortense smiled.
"It is an informal affair, a private gathering. Your Uncle has deemed it acceptable for you to attend. With the understanding that you will be in the company of your cousins. Try to be observant of their exemplary behavior and feminine sweetness."
Not very likely, she thought. Continuing to study her shoes.
"Here, Eliza has sent this for you to wear."
Aunt Hortense held out a gown. She accepted with trembling hands. But once she held it up her heart sank.
"I can't wear this."
"And why on earth not?" The suspicious edge returned.
"It's too big! It will swallow me and it's so old. I can't go to a party wearing this, I'll be a laughingstock!"
"For the day of the Lord of hosts shall be upon every one that is proud and lofty, and upon every one that is lifted up; and he shall be brought low. Do not forget the sin of pride that caused the fall of Absalom. You should pray for forgiveness."
"Yes, Aunt Hortense….But this dress won't fit."
The older woman was out of patience.
"Make yourself productive for once Lina and put your skills to good use."
Not waiting for another lecture the girl curtsied and fled with the dress.
Later, in the safety of her small bedchamber, she held it up to the firelight. Her previous excitement drained from her body.
She remembered this dress. Eliza had worn it when she was seventeen, which had been almost seven years ago!
It was of a heavy fabric, dark blue with black lace, puffed sleeves, and an odd pattern of pleating down the bodice. It did not suit her coloring at all. At least not in her opinion, for whatever that mattered.
But, even beyond its fashionable blunders, it was also impractical. Eliza was a buxom girl and far more robust than herself. She wouldn't be able to fill out that dress in a million years.
"What am I going to do?"
Make yourself productive for once. Aunt Hortense's voice burned in her ears.
A smile crept across her face. Maybe the old hag was right, surprisingly. She could still put this dress to good use.
Scrambling under the bed she pulled out her sewing basket and sat on the edge of the creaking Tudor bed. Digging her nails into the seams, feeling the building tension and sudden release of ripping thread, she began to deconstruct it.
This is, in fact, a fine idea! I'll completely unstitch it, there is a good length of cloth here and a variety of embellishments. I can create a new dress, all to my own design.
Reaching into the basket she removed a folded piece of yellowed paper.
She had limited knowledge of the current fashion, and few opportunities to add to it. This was her sole piece of information about the stylish outside world. A page she had managed to tear out of one of Hannah's magazines. When they had last visited London three years ago. Using it as her guide she could make a new dress and trust her instincts to make up for any changes that had occurred.
Her smile grew as she added to the pile of buttons and imagined her new gown.
"It may be a cast-off, but when I am threw no one will ever remember Eliza Randle's hand-me-down. All anyone will ever see is me."