Achilles was true to his word and mustered up some Yuletide joy in the days leading up to Christmas. He even helped me rummage through the spare room where he had a few decorations stored. That part gave him some sadness. He told me about his wife and son and how they had died of fever in 1755. Most of their possessions were packed away in the room. I tried not to go through much, wanting to respect his privacy. Achilles went through the majority of the boxes, often pulling out an old dress or toy and staring at them for a few moments before returning them and moving on.

"I'm sorry," I told him. "I didn't want you to have to go through all this stuff."

He chuckled. "It's alright, Faith. Some of the memories are painful, but most of them are pleasant." He pushed a box toward me after inspecting it's contents. "I'm sure Abigail wouldn't want all of this to go to waste."

I looked in the box and noticed it was full of garland, red bows and wreaths. I pulled out a dried vine tied with a ribbon and held it up.

"Mistletoe," I mused.

Achilles smiled. "Abigail used to hang that everywhere during the holiday season."

"That's sweet," I said, smiling. "She sounds like an amazing woman."

"She was," he admitted with a sad, proud tone in his voice.

Achilles composed himself and stood up. "That reminds me," he said. "I have something for you. When you've finished in here, see me in the study."

I nodded and began to tidy up the boxes. I wondered what Achilles would give me. I sort of hoped it was pay for my works so far. I know I hadn't done much, but I intended to give Lance the money I owe him whether he wanted it or not. That would be easier to do if I actually had money. I'd have to have Connor help me count it, but at least I wouldn't feel like I owed anyone other than the men I shared a house with.

I carried the box to the downstairs hallway and met Achilles in the study. He handed me a book, thin and leather bound. I studied it and flipped through the pages. It was a collection of recipes, all hand written.

"It belonged to my wife," he said. "Feel free to play loose with the recipes. They never turned out quite right when Abigail made them. Cooking was never her forte. You seem to have a talent for it, though."

I felt a wave of emotion at the compliment. I hugged him and he let out an embarrassed, "Oh."

"Thank you, Achilles."

"You're welcome," he said , easing out of my embrace. "Now, finish with what you were doing and clean up this mess."

I looked around the study. I'd had the idea of organizing the books and papers Achilles had stored while moving the furniture to make room for the tree. So far I had made more of a mess than I had cleaned up. The surfaces were cluttered and there were stacks of documents piled on the floor.

I smiled at him and nodded. I watched him leave the room, limping on his bad leg.

Connor came back from hunting and looked about the house with bewildered confusion. I had finished with all the decorating. The tree was trimmed and garland hung along the banister. Wreaths were on both of the doors, inside and out. Bows hung in all the windows I could reach. Mistletoe was in all the doorways, as well as in the middle of the hall at the front door. I might have went a little overboard, but I was only using what Abigail had left behind. I felt it right to put it all up in her absence.

I went to the hallway to greet him as he came through the front door. "What do you think?" I asked. "It's pretty festive, huh?"

Connor looked at me with a discernible expression. It hadn't been what I was expecting. "It is...nice," he said.

I sighed. I had hoped he would take a bit more of an interest when he noticed the amount of work I'd put into making the place look Christmasy. "I guess it doesn't really mean much to you, does it?"

He shook his head apologetically. "But I doubt any of my people's rituals would mean much to you."

"Probably not," I agreed.

I happened to glance up and noticed that Connor was standing directly beneath the mistletoe. Since he wasn't familiar with the custom, I felt he deserved some insight. "You might not want to stand there."

Connor frowned at me. I gestured to the vine above his head. He looked up. "What is that?"

"Mistletoe," I told him. "It's a holiday tradition that anyone who stands under it is required to receive a kiss."

Connor looked at me, as though trying to determine the truth of the custom. "I do not understand," he said. "What is the purpose of such a tradition?"

I laughed and shook my head at his ignorance. I wasn't really clear on the origin of the practice myself. I could have just made something up to appease him, but I didn't see the point. "It doesn't matter," I told him. "Just take at least one step in any direction so I don't have to kiss you."

His cheeks became red and he hastily stepped back, moving from beneath the mistletoe. "Sorry," he muttered, looking at the ground.

"That's the only warning I'm giving you," I said. "Be careful where you stand from now on."

Connor met my eyes and I noted a flicker of defiance in his. It made me wonder if he would test me just to see if I was bluffing. I remembered how Achilles complained about his rebelliousness sometimes, but I'd never witnessed it before. Other than the few silent sneers he cast at his mentor, Connor followed orders like a well trained dog. Until that moment, I had never considered that he might be one to push boundaries for no other reason than to see if they would move. That look he gave me, thought. It made doubt everything I thought I knew about him.

"Of course," he said.

Connor walked by me, eyeing me with that same challenging stare. He pulled the candlestick that revealed the entrance to the basement and went downstairs, shutting the door behind him.

I went back to the kitchen and to finish supper, wondering about what secrets he had hidden.