I couldn't help but be happy to be back in Southampton, if only because Scotland had already been cold enough in November. Our Scottish Christmas had been wonderful, but it would be a nice change. Not to mention that Lights had received leave for Christmas and had flatly refused Will's offer of joining us up in Edinburgh.

He had insisted that we should all celebrate Christmas together, and that none of his brood were mad enough to deal with the weather like those damn Scotsmen. Not to mention that it wouldn't be good for the young ones to travel in the cold, the last thing any of us wanted was for them to take sick.

So, it would be a relatively mild Christmas, even though there was still snow on the ground. Rigel had been enjoying it, even refusing to come in so that he could roll around in the great white piles that had overtaken the yard. Rowan's garden was dormant, although he was already drawing up plans for the spring planting. They were tacked up next to his plans for Mikhail's gardens, he had been taking trips over to the country house Mikhail had found to begin laying things out.

I had not remarked on the fact that Kate often joined him on those trips, or that she often came back with flowers in her hair and Rowan with red marks on the unscarred side of his face.

If the two of them were growing closer, I would only wish them the best. Rowan deserved someone to love him, and Kate deserved a better life than rushing from one job to the next. Mikhail clearly wanted Rowan to come be his gardener when I had no further need for him as my driver, and Rowan had spoken last week of how there was a lovely little cottage on the property.

It was good to see him making plans for the future.

I was also planning my future, and hoped that Will would be glad when I gave him his present. It had turned out that the lawyer I had hired to help find more properties for my charity homes had come across a listing in Southampton that would allow us to have a larger home. If I could trust Father about having a family of my own in the future, then we would need more space.

I had wrapped up the deed to the new property and placed it under the tree, already flush with presents. Most were for the Lightoller children, Sylvie, Lights and even a few for Rowan, Kate and Mr. Collins. Of course there was more presents for Will than just the deed, including a promise that I would wear that scandalous lingerie on an occasion of his choosing. I had hired a cook to oversee cooking Christmas dinner to allow Sylvie and I more time with our husbands.

In fact, I was spending time with Sylvie's husband right now.

Lights had come over to discuss possibly finding Rigel another mate, given how popular his puppies with Nana had proven. The whole discussion had made me blush, and it had only been through the intervention of several glasses of whiskey that I had been able to get through it. Lights had also imbibed, growing ever more jolly as he did so. Eventually the conversation had wandered away from dog breeding into his family, and the man was nothing but smiles. "Sylvie, she says she wants another baby, and so do I, but we're split on what we want."

I raised a brow, "I take it she wants a girl?"

"No, I do." He snorted, "She wants another boy, mainly because then I would be more in charge of raising him." He attempted to stand, stumbling slightly. "Damn, you must have brought out the good stuff, usually a few glasses don't have me unsteady like this."

I swirled the bottle, "Compliments of my mother, she sent over an entire case."

"Well, give me a bottle." He yawned, "I'm sure Sylvie will like it."

I went briefly to the kitchen, coming back with the requested bottle. "Perhaps it will lead to you two having that next baby."

He snorted, "I can assure you, I don't need whiskey to help with that." I sent him home, Rowan grumbling about driving drunk sailors around, but thought nothing of it. After all, Will was due to arrive in a few days, and I wanted to ensure the house was clean and ready. It was a bit of a doing, Rigel tended to leave hair everywhere he went. I dusted and swept, made shortbread and did everything I could to have the place perfect for the day Will arrived.

I had expected him early, he usually tried to get the first train available, but the day stretched on. The afternoon moved sluggishly along, and I was beginning to get worried. Usually if Will was delayed he would send a wire, but nothing had arrived. I did my best to keep from fretting, but was in the process of pulling out a coat to head down to the train station when I heard the front door open. A brief thought of an intruder flashed through my mind, but Rigel was happily whining at whoever had come in.

Thinking of who he usually greeted like that, I flew down the stairs.

Will was doing his best to stand upright in the doorway, although he weaved a bit as he stepped through, throwing his bag down. Lights followed him in, a wide smile on his face. "Look Will, there she is."

"Yes," He slurred, his eyes roaming over me. "My beautiful wife."

I narrowed my eyes at Lights, who I had no doubt had gotten my husband stinking drunk and delayed him coming home. "Will, let's sit you down before you fall over."

He was quite glad to have me get closer to him, leaning heavily on me and not so subtly running his hands over me. "Lights, what did you do?"

"Sylvie insisted after you sent me back to her in that state." He chuckled, already stepping outside. "Enjoy tonight, we'll be by for Christmas dinner!"

I couldn't even give him a smart reply as Will had begun kissing at my neck, and there was very little I could focus on besides his hand running up under my skirt.

Penelope was not expecting a very festive Christmas. Jellicoe had been made First Sea Lord last month and had been insistent on eradicating the U-boats that prowled the shipping lanes, which had meant more work for her father. She couldn't count the number of days that her father had stumbled home late, barely ate, then left early in the morning leaving nothing but a dirty coffee pot for her to clean.

If he could barely remember to eat, then it was unlikely he would remember the holiday.

Penelope had come to terms with that, their Christmases hadn't been very happy since the death of her mother when she was young. Usually it was simply a quiet dinner and a few gifts exchanged. If they were lucky one of the other professors would invite them to their party, but Penelope didn't expect any invitations this year. Ever since her father had taken up his intelligence work, they hadn't come calling much. Father would certainly have his work cut out renewing acquaintances when he returned to Cambridge.

When she answered the door, she had only been expecting a message for her father, and was surprised to be presented with a prettily wrapped box and a bouquet of red roses and holly. The man lifted his hat, holding them out. "Compliments of Mr. Vanderbilt, miss."

Penelope took them, "Thank you."

"I'll be back, same time tomorrow." The man nodded, then left. Penelope attended to the flowers first, placing them in a vase with some water to preserve them. Then she opened the box, raising a brow when she drew out a delicate gold bracelet. A charm dangled from it, a tree with a small bird roosting in it. There wasn't even a card in the box, but Penelope would have known who had sent it even if the man hadn't said.

She also wasn't surprised when more flowers accompanied the next package, a much smaller box. Two golden doves now fluttered alongside the pear tree, and Penelope couldn't help but smile as the charms grew over the days. French hens, calling birds, gold rings, swans, geese, every verse of the song but one was hanging from her wrist when she flew to the door when the knocking sounded. She hoped Oscar was there, a golden drummer charm in his hand.

But when she opened the door, it was the same man. However he held a much larger box, coming inside briefly to set it down before pausing in the entryway and holding out an envelope. "Mr. Vanderbilt asked me to bring him your reply." Penelope took it, tearing it open. Oscar's handwriting was elegant as ever, scrawled over the fine paper.

My Dearest Pen,

I hope this festive season finds you well. Will you and your father please join me for Christmas dinner? I would be ever so glad to see you again, I have missed you something terribly. Please, if you do, wear what I've sent. I bought it with you in mind.

Waiting on pins and needles,

Oscar

She folded the letter back up, closing her eyes. "Please tell Mr. Vanderbilt I would be glad to join him. He can expect my father and I to visit on Christmas."

The man grinned, "He'll be glad to hear that, miss. Poor lad's been worried he would upset you with all this, I'll let him know." It was only once he was gone that Penelope turned to the large box, untying the ribbon that held it shut. It was a dress box, and she gasped when she drew back the tissue paper. Resting on a bed of velvet was a golden drummer, but it was the velvet the drew her eye.

The dress was beautiful, far too beautiful for her. A deep, rich emerald velvet, golden thread embroidered in vines and flowers over the skirt and she knew it would fit her perfectly. She was correct, and the feel of the dress made her want to sigh as it settled over her skin. When her father returned home, she was still marveling over it, her complete charm bracelet the perfect accompaniment to it.

"Penelope, where are you?" He called out, and she reluctantly left her mirror. He looked her up and down as she stood at the top of the stairs. "Where did that come from? And what have you done to your hair?"

She reached up, touching where she had pinned her curls up. She had been trying to find a style that would flatter her for Christmas dinner. "Oscar sent it, we're going to join him for Christmas. As for my hair, I was just trying something out of a magazine, you don't need to worry about me cutting it, I've told you I don't like those bobs."

Nigel frowned, "It's not appropriate for him to send you clothes."

"Father," She almost growled, "We're going, and I'm wearing this."

"I'm your father, I should have some say in what goes on."

"Father, I'm going regardless of what you say. You're welcome to join, or I'm sure one of Oscar's servants would be glad to act as our chaperone."

"Fine, we'll go. But if you think I won't have words for him." Her father stalked off towards the parlor, "I'm going to need whiskey to get through this."

Despite Will's urging that we were going to be busy enough hosting the Lightollers on Christmas Day, I still insisted that we hold a small gathering on Christmas Eve. Only a few people were invited, Mr. Collins and his wife, Rowan, and Kate. It made for a peaceful night, much needed since I knew the next day would be chaotic. Mrs. Collins was amused when I brought out a copy of A Christmas Carol, but she was game to read it with us. Rowan particularly enjoyed it, as he enjoyed the simple meal Kate had made for us. Kate blushed under his compliments, batting her eyelashes.

Will didn't make a comment when Rowan offered to walk her home, after what we had done during our engagement I had no doubt he was unwilling to play the hypocrite.

Once our guests had left, Rigel had curled up by the fire, and Will was sipping on a whiskey, I moved to the tree and pulled out his gift. He cocked a smile at me as I held it out to him. "Aren't we supposed to do this tomorrow?"

"It's just one." I chuckled, waving the envelope in front of him. "Of course, if you don't want it."

He snatched it from my hand, "Of course I want it, but come here." He grabbed my hand, drawing me to sit in his lap. "Ah, much better."

I wriggled myself against him, earning a squeeze as he tore it open. "I hope you like it."

He snorted, and pulled the deed from the envelope. I could see him reading it, and I felt his hands go stiff when he finally understood. "Ana, you didn't."

"I did." I grinned, standing. "Now, do you want to go see it?" He followed me in a trance, although he was aware enough to help me with my coat. It wasn't far, but it was rather chilly out. I had the keys to the new house in my pocket, and quickly had the door unlocked. I stepped back to let Will walk in, I had already seen it.

He stared at the mirror of our little house, "You bought the house next door."

"When we have a family of our own, we will need more space." I reached out to touch the shared wall between the homes. "I thought you might like this better than buying an entirely new house. We can have some work done, Rowan already said he'd take out the fence between the two yards."

Will ran a hand through his hair, "When I saw it was a deed, I thought you had finally found a Scottish estate."

"I'm going to see some over the summer." I admitted, "I will try and arrange for you to come with, of course."

"Nothing could keep me from it." Will came over, wrapping me in his arms. "You have no idea how happy I am to be here with you."

I squeezed him back, "I'll consult you when it comes time to make changes, I don't want to ruin it for you."

"Well, for starters, we can get rid of this wall." He chuckled, "A much larger parlor would be well appreciated."

"We have plenty of time to discuss it." I grinned, then yawned. "But we should get to bed. We'll need plenty of rest to deal with the Lightollers tomorrow." It turned out that sleeping was far from Will's mind, something I should have realized after he drank half a bottle of whiskey. In the end we slept late the next morning and were barely presentable by the time Lights was on the step, wife, children and dog in hand.

He handed Nana to me, "Now, no unsupervised time with Rigel for her. She needs a break before we have more puppies." I nodded, ensuring that Nana would have constant supervision during their time here. The new yard was already coming in handy, it seemed. The boys were immediately headed for the tree, dragging their sisters along and talking about how Uncle Will and Aunt Anna gave the best presents.

Will leaned over to Sylvie, giving her a hug. "I'm afraid the presents are just from Aunt Anna this year, I've been a might busy."

I snorted, "He's lying, he brought something for each of them down from Scotland. I hope you all enjoy tartan."

"Just what we need." Lights sighed, seeing how Roger was already trying to peek into one package. "Well, we may as well start." All of us settled into chairs, the children put in charge of passing out the presents. The boys were thrilled to have new adventure books and toy soldiers, the girls seemed glad to have new clothes that were bedecked with lace and ribbon, and Lights groaned when he unwrapped a tartan blanket. "You have got to be joking."

Sylvie grinned, her new tartan scarf in her hands. "Oh come now, they're lovely."

"And there is one more," I smirked, pulling out an envelope from my pocket. "From all of us, including my mother."

Lights grabbed it, "Oh, what now?" He pulled out the contents, brows furrowed. "Blueprints?"

I shared a glance with a confused Will, "Yes, for your new cabin. In Vermont."

"I can't afford that." He held the blueprints back out, "It's very kind of you to have these drawn up for us, but I don't think it's possible."

I raised a brow, "Oh Lights, come now. You know what I mean."

Will leaned closer, "It's already built?"

"Almost finished," I giggled, seeing Lights face go red. "Mother wanted to do something with all that property up there. She's building this one, a place for herself, one for Liz and James, and I have no doubt the other Vanderbilts will be shortly supplied with their own cabins." I took his hand, whispering to him. "She's also expanding ours, she expects grandchildren when the war is over."

Lights was almost purple now, "Anastasia, you cannot, this is, it's too much."

"Charles," I shot back. "You usually enjoy spending time with us and enjoying being pampered on our dime, is it so bad that we want to be closer to you after all this? You two, and the children, have been such a godsend during the war. I don't know if I could have endured being over here for this long if not for you."

Sylvie even blushed at that. "Anastasia, you know we love you and the children do too, but that doesn't come with any expectations."

"She knows." Will shook his head, giving me a smile. "She, and her mother, just have a tendency to go overboard with presents. Besides, it will give us all something to look forward to after this whole bloody thing is done. A long, restful summer in Vermont and Newport. Doesn't that sound wonderful?"

Lights pursed his lips, "I suppose."

"Oh Lights," I couldn't help but laugh. "If you're reacting this way to a cabin, I can't wait to show you the estates I'm looking at in Scotland. It would be good for the children to have some place in the country to run around in. Don't you think?"

Penelope did her best to ignore her father as they arrived at Oscar's. He hadn't been pleased when she had come down in the dress Oscar had sent her, the charm bracelet on her hand and her hair twisted up. She had wanted to wear her mother's necklace, but hadn't been able to find it before they had to leave.

Her father glared at Oscar as he opened the door, only relaxing when Oscar immediately pressed a drink into his hand. "Hot buttered rum, Professor, I certainly hope you like it." He turned to Penelope, presenting her with a glass. "And punch, although if you'd like something else I can go grab it."

She took a sip of the punch, enjoying the smooth taste that hid the strength of the drink. "This is fine."

"Well, I hope tonight will be more than fine." Oscar grinned, turning to a table in the entryway. "In fact, I hope it will be wonderful."

He turned to her, his hands heaped with wreathes of holly. She almost froze when he lifted one, settling it over her hair. A gentle hand turned her toward a mirror, and she couldn't help but smile. Oscar had donned a wreath as well, and the two of them looked like figures out of a Christmas card. She brought a hand up to cover her smile, "I look ridiculous."

"You look beautiful." Oscar whispered, doing his best to not draw her father's attention. "Thank you for wearing the dress, it suits you so well."

She blushed, "You had best charm Father, he was furious you sent it."

"I have plenty of rum and brandy." He snorted, and then spoke up. "Nigel, I certainly hope you've brought an appetite."

"I always do when we visit." Her father was already glancing towards the dining room. "I hope I won't be disappointed."

Oscar kept his hand at the small of her back as he led them into the dining room, "Well, I can certainly say we will be dining on the largest turkey in Britain this year."

Penelope glanced over, trying not to focus on his slight touch that send wonderful chills up her spine. "However did you manage that?"

He blushed, "My, ah, friend in Southampton. Her mother was kind enough to ship it to her and she forwarded it to me."

She fought down the frown that threatened to show on her face. "Did you invite her to dinner?"

"Penelope," He stopped, letting her father keep walking. "That's done, I wrote her because I wanted to throw you a wonderful Christmas and I couldn't find any main course worthy of you. You can read the letters if you like, she even wishes you a Merry Christmas."

"That was kind of her." Penelope looked down, "I don't mean to be a shrew."

"You're not." He started leading her again, now holding her hand. "Now, let's put that behind us. I want to see if you can guess the theme I was aiming for." He led her to the chair to his right, helping her sit before taking his own chair. She looked around the room, trying to ascertain the meaning behind the decorations.

Boughs of evergreen and holly were strung throughout the room, so much that it gave the impression of being in a winter forest. She could even spot sprigs of mistletoe sprinkled throughout, small white dots that drew the eye. For once the fireplace in the dining room had been cleaned out and lit, a massive log burning merrily and warming the air. A deep red silk tablecloth covered the mahogany table, which was straining under the weight of the food that had been laid out.

Oscar had not lied, the turkey that took pride of place was indeed massive and the scent emanating from the roasted, golden skinned bird was making her mouth water. It was surrounded by a dozen different pies and tarts, a salad spilling over its silver bowl, a crystal punch bowl that was no doubt the source of her drink, and even more wreaths of evergreen and holly. She was still trying to piece together a theme as Oscar stood to carve, placing the choicest portion on her plate. Her father didn't even attempt conversation, far too focused on his plate.

Oscar leaned over, a fresh cup of punch for her in his hands. "Well, have you figured it out?"

She hastily swallowed her mouthful of turkey, coughing a little. "I haven't. I don't suppose you'd be willing to give me a clue?"

He pursed his lips, rolling his eyes in an amused expression. "Well, I suppose. I'm trying to emulate a Christmas from four hundred years ago."

That gave her pause, "A Tudor Christmas?"

"I thought you might like it." He looked back to his plate, although he did glance to her out of the side of his eye.

She reached over, gently touching his hand. "I love it." That made him all smiles, and he was back to his usual charming self. Her father took another helping of turkey, then another, and after they all had eaten enough food that it was difficult to move, they slowly retired to the parlor.

Oscar set a glass of brandy down in front of her father, a cigar beside it. "Nigel, would you mind if I spoke to Penelope privately?"

Her father's eyes were barely open. "Be quick."

Oscar gave her a smile, waving for her to follow him. She did so, delighted when he lead her up one floor and into a library. She couldn't tear her eyes from the shelves once he turned up the lights, so many leatherbound books and shining wooden desks. She looked over her shoulder at Oscar, who stood gazing at her. "Oscar, I didn't get a chance to thank you for the bracelet."

He dipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out a small velvet box. "Well, then I suppose I should give you this, that way you can get all your 'thank yous' done at once."

She took it, letting her fingers linger on his. For its small size, the box was heavy and when she opened it, she almost forgot to breathe. Resting against the black velvet was a shining emerald, surrounded by pearls and when she pulled it out, a thin golden chain trailed behind it. The matching earrings only merited a brief glance, for she knew this chain. "My mother's necklace."

"I asked your father for it." Oscar stepped closer, "I hope you don't mind, you can always pull the pendant off to wear it plain."

"It's lovely." She ran her hands over the smooth, cold stone. Oscar reached for it, his question unsaid. "Oh, of course."

He gently strung it around her neck, his fingers lingering on her shoulders as she put the earrings on. There was only one small mirror in the library, and he turned them both towards it. She saw his gaze soften as he took her in, his fingers tightening for a moment. "So beautiful."

Her own fingers came up to brush against the pendant, resting just above her breast. "Is this supposed to earn my forgiveness?"

"No, this is." He reached into his pocket, pulling out a folded envelope. Penelope opened it, pulling the letter out and reading, her heart skipping a beat.

Miss Featherstone,

Thanks to a very generous anonymous donation, we are prepared to fund the resumption of your research. Please contact me in the new year in order for us to arrange your travel, room, board and supplies. Following your expeditions, we anticipate your graduation will speedily follow.

Professor Butler

"This was you, the donation." She whispered, the paper almost shaking in her hands as she turned around. "You convinced him."

Oscar brushed his fingers over her cheek, "He's a stubborn old cuss, but he eventually came around after I pulled out my checkbook." He felt the tears on her cheeks, "Oh, Pen, don't cry. I thought you'd be happy."

She sniffed, trying to tamp down her emotions. "I am! It's, it's just, I've wanted to keep working on my research for so long, and he's always put me off."

"I wanted you to be able to do what you love." He drew her closer, wrapping his arms around her. "You deserve to be able to do that."

Penelope drew in a shuddering breath, "Oscar, I forgive you."

"You do?"

"Yes," She looked up to him, smiling. "I do, and thank you for this, and the jewelry, and tonight. It's been perfect." He didn't reply, simply leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. She sighed into it, leaning into him as he pulled her even tighter. It felt good to be held again, to have him close to her.

To feel wanted.

She wouldn't press him about reading his letters with Anastasia, she wouldn't listen in to his calls. He had respected that she needed time to forgive him, she would respect that he would keep to his word and nothing untoward would happen again. She gently pulled back from the kiss, brushing her fingers through his hair. "My father will be getting anxious."

Oscar sighed at her touch, his eyes closed. "Your father ate three helpings of dinner, two glasses of rum and I left him with brandy and a cigar. I doubt he'll wake up for a few days." He opened his eyes, a clear, warm brown that made her want to kiss him again. "We have a little more time."

She wrapped her arms tighter around him, drawing him back in. "Nothing beyond kisses."

"As my lady says," He grinned, and Penelope let herself melt.