Between courses of the spectacular meal, nature calls. I rise from the table. “Ummm…”
Michael points out of the room. “Down the hall and on the left. I’ll show you. Heading that way myself.”
In the bathroom, “Michael, am I missing something? Elizabeth and I are here today at James’ invitation, but Charlotte seemed uncomfortable at first. At least until he made it completely clear to her what his intentions were.”
The blond man shuffles on his feet.
“Is it me?” I say. “Have I done something to offend?”
“No,” he says quickly, zipping up. “It’s not you.”
“What then?”
He rubs at his forehead. “The fact is…. that our relationship with Charlotte has had its ups and downs. And some of the downs were very down.”
The sound of laughter echoes down the hall. He glances toward the dining room. “Look,” he says. “I’m happy to have this conversation with you sometime. But not today, eh?”
“I understand. But you’re sure everything is alright with Charlotte?”
“The way she’s been knocking turkey back? Yes, she’s fine. Have fun.” He grins and winks.
*****
The pudding is a spectacular experience. James brings it in, dressed with holly and resplendent on its silver tray.
“Homemade?” I ask.
“Of course.”
He places it in the centre of the table, takes the brandy bottle as though to pour it over, then offers it to Charlotte. “Would you like to light up?”
She grins, glugging the bottle over the pudding. Michael chuckles. “Hey, take it easy, Charlotte. We all need to be able to stand upright afterwards.”
James offers her a lighted taper. Taper in one hand, bottle in the other, she applies both to the pudding….
With a wooomph, yellow flame leaps upwards, spreads across the ceiling in a starburst, then drops back down again to burn sedately over the pudding with a pale blue glow. The air is scented with alcohol, apples, cinnamon and nutmeg, and just a touch of caramel.
James gives her a look and her head drops. “Sorry, Master.” But he is suppressing a smile, and so is she.
Michael’s voice is dry. “Better get that ceiling repainted hadn’t I, then….”
*****
“Another brandy, Richard?” James offers the bottle towards my glass.
“Later perhaps.”
Not too much alcohol….
James' eyes lift to mine and he cocks a brow in question. I reply with the smallest of nods.
Charlotte is huddled with Elizabeth, deep in conversation, discussing the pendant James gave her….
“…. they’re extinct now but there used to be thousands of different species. They all had this chambered shell structure.” She holds it up to the light, pointing out some detail. “You can see it there if you look closely….”
I rise, then meet Michael’s eye. He smiles, nods and I head-point him to Elizabeth.
As he stands, the women become aware of us. Michael offers his hand to Elizabeth and I offer mine to Charlotte. They exchange glances, both colouring a little, then rise together.
As each accepts the offered hand, James waits in the background, watching the scene unfold. Michael and Elizabeth walk ahead of us, exiting the dining room. James strolls by my side as we move along the hall towards the door to the basement.
I try to keep my voice low enough for Charlotte not to pick up my words. Nonetheless, her lips quirk as I say to James, “Is it me, or is Michael walking a little awkwardly?”
James' eyes slide side-long to mine. “He had a frustrating morning. I think Beth will be getting the benefit of that frustration.”
I can sympathise with that…
*****
In James’ playroom, he’s gone to a lot of trouble to make it welcoming. The large open hearth at one end blazes, casting a flickering golden light over otherwise dark stonework. The fire has clearly been burning for some hours, but just as obviously, there is some other heating in the background and the temperature is more than comfortable.
Candles gleam from sconces scattered around the chamber, adding their dancing light to the warm glow from the fire.
Michael stands to one side, lips curving as Elizabeth turns to face me. She too is smiling. There is nothing in her of the confusion and uncertainty of the first time we did this.
Does she want him?
Her eyes, the green of the sea, are wide-pupiled. Her skin is sheening, and her breathing quickens….
Yes, she wants him….
I kiss her on the lips then murmur, “Happy Christmas, my Love”.
My hands on her shoulders, I steer her around, turning her to face her blond, blue-eyed beau. My palms on her, I feel no tension; only a growing tremble of arousal….
You’ve been looking forward to this….
“Take off your clothes,” I say. “Show yourself to Michael.”
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