52
It was late one evening near the beginning of December. Victoria had been up late the past few evenings working on both a birthday gift for Catherine as well as Christmas gifts for everyone. Embroidered handkerchiefs. A table runner. Thick socks. Mittens upon mittens upon mittens. A lot of work, but she did enjoy it. Tonight she was feeling warm and cheery and just a touch loopy with fatigue. She set a half-done pair of mittens in her workbasket next to her rocker and rubbed her eyes.
"There, is this straight?" Victor asked from across the room. He was standing across the room with his arms stretched above his head, holding a garland studded with dried oranges in place above the big window.
Victoria stood, considered, and then said, "Yes, it looks straight to me."
"Wonderful. Could you pass me a pin?"
A box of drawing pins sat on the windowseat. Victoria crossed the room, handed him a pin, and then laid a hand on his back as he found a spot to place it.
"Another might do," he said, "If you don't mind."
She handed him another pin. As he fixed it, she idly caressed his back. It was a moonless night and the sky pressed black against the window. Victoria leaned gently against Victor, snuggling in under his upstretched arm. Again she stroked his back with her palm. Was it the warmth of the room? The cozy and loving feeling of the impending holidays? How kindly and fastidiously he was helping to decorate? Her fatigue? Something was lowering her inhibitions and making her feel extraordinarily affectionate.
She let her hand drift downward and very gently cupped his backside.
Slowly he turned to look down at her sideways, a small grin on his face, and said, "I beg your pardon, madam."
"Sir?" she asked innocently.
"Are you looking for something?" he asked her as he gave the string of greenery one last adjustment.
"I've found it, thank you," she said, caressing his bottom.
"I say," he remarked, a suppressed laugh in his voice. "I do say, madam."
"It looks quite nice," she remarked, looking up at the garland. She and the children had made it themselves and it had come out charmingly.
"The greenery?" he asked, at last lowering his arms and putting them around her. "Or my…?"
"Both," she told him. And, because she was that queer mix of exhausted and festive, she gave his bottom a squeeze.
53
Victor slipped into bed as quietly as he could. Victoria was on her side, her back to him, snuggled underneath the blankets. It was terribly cold in the bedroom. He wished he hadn't stayed up quite so late. The hot water bottles at the foot of the bed were cool, as were the sheets on his side of the bed. He shivered, even in his winter-weight pajamas.
Victoria, though, was very warm. Heat radiated from her, warming up the blankets and sheets near her. Carefully, not wanting to wake her up, he spooned himself against her back and slid an arm about her.
Ah, bliss. Like hugging a person-sized hot water bottle. So soft and warm and inviting. He cuddled up and held her close, letting his hand rest lightly between her bosoms. Another lovely and warm spot. Victor buried his face in her hair, all soft and clean and loosely braided. She always smelled so nice. Like flowers. And that smell that was just her.
I'm lucky to have you, he thought sleepily. Not only because she warmed the bed so nicely, of course. A hundred reasons. But her warmth, figurative and literal, was high on the list.
The blankets rustled as Victoria reached and held his hand, giving his fingers an affectionate good-night squeeze. He felt her sigh, just once, before her breathing became deep and regular again. He returned the finger-squeeze, gently, before he drifted off to sleep.
54
"It looks so empty," Victoria said as she surveyed the nursery. Victor stood at her side, little Mary in his arms and Anne holding onto his leg.
"It's roomy," Victor said. "It was getting very crowded."
Victoria sighed as she looked around again. She'd forgotten that the room they'd used as the nursery was easily the biggest bedroom. With all four girls in it, their beds and books and belongings and that enormous wardrobe and the table for food and lessons, plus Mary's cot...It had grown chaotic, yes. But also so cozy and full of life!
Now there was Anne's little bed by the window and Mary's cot by the door to Victor and Victoria's room. The enormous wardrobe was still there, as was the large table. Lessons and some meals would still happen in here, after all. But Catherine and Lydia had of course taken all of their things with them. The big room was left looking sparse. Bereft, almost.
"It was time," Victor reminded her gently. "Liddie and Catherine are growing up, they're too old for the nursery."
Indeed, the older girls had been thrilled at the prospect of their own proper bedrooms. They'd not even bickered over who should get which one, as they had been secretly coveting the rooms they'd picked for ages. Oh, how happy they'd been as they moved their possessions out, not giving the nursery even one backward glance.
"It might be lonely," Anne remarked quietly. Her sisters hadn't given her a backward glance, either. "Without all of us together."
Victor squeezed her shoulder. "Ah, but your sisters are just across the hall," he said. He gave Mary a little bounce, and she giggled. "And you'll still have Mary!"
Anne looked at her little sister, who smiled sweetly back before reaching to grab at the large bow in Anne's hair.
"Have this," Mary said, yanking. "Mine."
"Mary!" Victoria cried, prying her chubby fist loose. Anne was wincing. Quickly Anne untied the bow and handed the ribbon to her sister.
"She may have it," Anne said morosely. "Excuse me." And she went back into the nursery, selected a book from a depleted shelf, and sat upon her bed with it. Victoria and Victor shared a look. Poor little Anne.
"Mary, you are a tiny brute sometimes," Victor scolded mildly, taking away the ribbon and putting it in his pocket.
Mary, unperturbed, wrapped her arms about Victor's neck and nuzzled into his cheek. Victor shook his head.
"All right, I've finished!" Catherine called from across the hall. They turned to see her standing flushed and happy in the doorway of her new bedroom. It was the third-largest, with a window that got a lot of sun and a cheerful print of roses on the wallpaper. "It's all arranged, come look, it's beautiful!"
"Just a minute, I'm finishing up, see mine next!" came Lydia's voice through the door to the smallest room. It was, depending on one's view, either unfortunately or conveniently between the back staircase and the bathroom. Lydia had picked it mostly because she liked the ivy on the wallpaper and the built-in shelves by the tiny window.
"May I also come look?" Anne asked from her bed.
Catherine grinned. "Of course!" she said grandly. "You are always welcome to come visit! See where I've put my pictures, and the new curtains!"
A little smile blossomed on Anne's face as she hopped off her bed and out of the nursery. Catherine took her arm and led her sister into the other room. Mary squirmed to be let down, so Victor set her on the floor to toddle after the big girls.
"New rooms, and soon a new governess," Victoria said in a low voice, listening to Catherine's happy chatter. She'd hired a lovely and bright young woman who had applied to her advertisement, and she'd begin teaching the children next week, in the new year. "Oh, this is happening so quickly, isn't it?"
Victor put an arm around her and drew her close, resting his cheek on her head for a moment. "It is," he agreed.
"Mary, no! Don't touch that!" Catherine cried in alarm. Something fell with a thud and Mary squealed. "Mother! Mother, help!"
Victoria sighed again, much more deeply this time, in exhaustion rather than wistfulness. She started across the hall with Victor close on her heels.
"Mary can't grow up fast enough, as far as I'm concerned," he said in a low voice, echoing her thoughts nearly to the word.