Lady Tarrant’s butler, Tweed, had obviously been waiting for them, for before Leo could run up the steps to ring the bell, he’d opened the door.
“Welcome, m’lords, m’ladies, Miss Zoë,” Tweed said, taking their coats, cloaks and hats and passing them to a footman. “Lord and Lady Tarrant, Lord and Lady Thornton and the young people await you in the second sitting room.” He turned to assist Lady Scattergood from her sedan chair, which had been brought right into the hall.
Izzy and Clarissa exchanged glances. “The second sitting room?” Izzy queried. “Not the front drawing room?” Which was the usual place to entertain guests.
“No, Lady Salcott, the second sitting room.” Tweed wasclearly enjoying himself. “This way, please.” They followed him down the hall, passing the closed double doors of the drawing room.
They entered the room to a burst of excitement. The adults rose to greet the new arrivals while the three small Tarrant girls simply rushed to hug the ladies.
“I’m sorry,” Lady Tarrant said, laughing, “but they’re beside themselves with anticipation and impatience.”
“Yes, because we want to see what it is!” Judy, the oldest, said.
Finally they were all seated again and the children set to play half-heartedly with a puzzle. Sherry was passed around and small crisp almond biscuits. The adults made polite conversation, but truth to tell, they were as impatient as the children, only better behaved.
A few minutes later Gerald and Lord Tarrant exchanged glances, Lucy nodded and the men rose and quietly left the room.
The remaining adults sipped sherry and made small talk, which nobody actually listened to, while the children openly watched the door with avid expressions.
Then Lord Tarrant stepped in again. “I’m turning off the lights,” he warned them. There was an excited murmur, then a hush as one by one he shut off the gas lights, leaving only the fire to light the room. The flames danced, throwing shadows and gilding their faces.
Lucy appeared in the doorway. “Now, I want you to hold hands—children hold hands with an adult—and come out into the hall.” They obeyed. Lina, the middle child, clutched Lady Tarrant’s hand while Debo, the youngest girl, held on to Clarissa’s and Judy clasped Zoë’s. Race held out his arm to escort old Lady Scattergood.
The hall was in relative darkness, too. Lucy gathered them to stand outside the double doors of the drawing room. “Now, everyone, close your eyes, and you must not open them until I say so or it will spoil the surprise.”
There were a few excited giggles from the children, but they scrunched their eyes firmly closed. Finally, the doors opened.
The scent hit Zoë first. A pine forest, fresh and sharp and clean. She breathed it in. Pine and beeswax. Perfect.
“You can look now,” Lucy said.
“Ohhhhhh.” It was a universal gasp of awe and surprise and pleasure, and for a moment nobody spoke.
“Oh my, that’s beautiful,” Clarissa breathed. “Look, Race, isn’t it lovely?”
“It’s magic,” Lina exclaimed.
“It’s a Christmas tree,” Lucy said, delighted with their reactions. “You know how when Gerald and I were first married, he was posted to Vienna? We spent several years there, and the Viennese—all the Austrians and Germans, actually—have this beautiful Christmas tradition, and we loved it so much, didn’t we, Gerald, that we decided to adopt it ourselves.”
They all gathered around to examine it.
A small fir tree had been placed in a solid red pot. The only light in the room came from dozens of slender candles clasped in tin holders that were wired to the branches. The tree glittered with shapes cut out in gold and silver paper that twirled gently on invisible threads, along with tiny parcels in bright colors, small painted wooden toys, gold-painted nuts, delicate crystal figurines, round glass baubles and small brown biscuits in various shapes tied on with narrow red ribbons.
“Those paper shapes are exquisite,” Clarissa commented, examining them closely. “Look, there’s a deer and that’s a wolf and a swan—”
“And a sailing ship and a drum and a basket—”
“And cats,” Debo said happily. “Lots of cats.”
“Zoë made them. She’s very clever, isn’t she?” Lucy said.
The children and several adults turned accusing gazeson her. “You knew about this, Zoë? And you didn’t say a word!”
She laughed. “And spoil the surprise? Of course not.”
“We bought the crystal ornaments, the glass baubles and the little wooden toys in Vienna. We put them on the tree every year,” Lucy explained. “But the biscuits are freshly baked—they’re ginger. And those brightly wrapped lumps with twisty ends are sweets. And the gold-painted nuts are real. You children can each take a nut, a sweet, and a biscuit every day for the twelve days of Christmas, starting tonight. Just tell Gerald or me which ones you choose and we’ll get it for you.”
“It looks a bit dangerous,” Leo said. “Won’t it catch alight?”
