Box Set: The ArringtonTrilogy (20 page)

Then what for Patrick? I walked around the
store ten or more times, uncertain what the perfect gift would be.
A gift he would treasure and always remember me by. I continued
looking around the store some more and finally spotted a handsome
pocket watch. It was perfect!

I happily made my way up to the counter and
placed my dolls on top.

“I would like to sell my dolls and purchase
several items.”

The clerk followed me around as I pointed out
each of the gifts, then we headed back to the counter for
everything to be tallied up, including the credit for my dolls.

“Well, let’s see here,” the older man said as
he added and subtracted, coming up with the difference. He peered
over his spectacles and told me, “That will be five dollars you owe
me.”

“Five dollars! I don’t have five dollars.
Isn’t my trade-in enough to cover the costs of the items?” I
cried.

The clerk shook his head, pushed my things
aside, handed me back my dolls, and shouted over me, “Next!”

“But wait. Please. Can’t you do better on the
dolls?”

He leaned over the glass counter
impatiently.

“In these troubled times, little lady, you’re
lucky I’m offering you that much. Not too much need for pretty
porcelain dolls these days. Customers are looking for more
practical gifts this Christmas.”

I was disappointed that I would have to put
back some of the gifts and choose less expensive ones. At this
point, I was sure Warren was waiting to head back home.

“Oh, dear,” I uttered and again begged the
clerk. “Please sir, can’t you make an exception. After all, it’s
Christmas.”

The man was getting annoyed with me, and just
when I was about to give up, a tall, middle-aged man, dressed in a
suit as fine as any of Daddy’s, approached the clerk. Apparently he
had overheard our discussion.

“Now there, Frank, I think the young lady has
a point here. It is Christmas, after all.”

“But Mr. Dawnell, these dolls…”

Mr. Dawnell held up his hand, indicating the
man should be quiet. Then he turned to me, smiled, and reached for
my dolls.

“I think we can work this deal. Your father,
Thomas Arrington, is a good friend of mine.”

“You know my father?”

“Of course. You are his lovely daughter,
Amelia. I have seen you many times in town with him. It’s a
pleasure to meet you,” he said and extended his hand to shake mine.
“I am the owner of this shop.”

I eagerly shook his hand, relieved and
delighted that I could purchase the presents I had selected after
all.

“And wrap them for her, Frank,” Mr. Dawnell
ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Dawnell.”

Warren had been waiting for patiently for me,
and I could detect a bit of curiosity behind his smile. Mr. Dawnell
had an employee trail behind me with a pile of packages to place in
the wagon.

“Don’t ask any questions,” I said.

Warren threw his hands up and said, “I
promise.”

“Very well. I suppose you are finished in
town?”

“I have all the supplies loaded up. Shall we
go?” He reached over to assist me into the wagon.

“Yes, indeed. Thank you, Mr. Stone,” I said
with an impish grin that made him smile with delight.

On the short journey back to Sutton Hall, we
spoke of Christmases past. I described in detail our gala
celebrations.

“Sounds as if the party was not one to
miss.”

“Certainly not. I just wish this year could
be as wonderful.”

I had done all I could to make this Christmas
as special and unforgettable as possible.

~ ~ ~

Patrick was obviously annoyed with Warren and
me. When we returned to the plantation, he ushered Warren to the
kitchen and ordered him to finish the trim work, ignoring me.

I didn’t let that bother me, and I occupied
all the rest of my time preparing the best meal I could manage for
our Christmas Eve supper. Mammy was feeling better and was able to
sit and help me in the newly-repaired kitchen.

Hattie and Jacob Thomas had come inside and
were playing with my toys upstairs in my room, without an argument
from Eugenia. She paid little attention to them now. Instead, she
stayed up in her rooms, locked away and depressed. There were
little moments when I almost felt sorry for her; but those moments
were few and far between, as I could never forget all she had done
to me.

I enjoyed Mammy’s detailed instructions on
how to prepare the roasted chicken, dumplings, and corn pone. It
was a simple meal compared to years past, but with few choices now,
it seemed satisfying enough.

While Mammy oversaw the cooking, I made my
way into the dining room to set the table with our finest china
dishes and gold cutlery. I used our best tablecloth and had
Hamilton polish the candelabras for the red candles I’d made months
before.

Warren and Patrick worked well into the
evening. I went upstairs to dress for our Christmas Eve supper, and
I didn’t see them until I came back downstairs.

The table looked extravagant, the food
smelled scrumptious, and the men looked handsome. Eugenia had
dressed in one of her best ball gowns and wore her finest jewels. I
was pleased to see she made such an effort. I gazed around the
table and was happy to see everyone eating and conversing together.
It still could be a merry Christmas after all, I thought to myself.
I think even Eugenia was pleased to have Patrick in Daddy’s seat.
Having Patrick with us was the next best thing to having Daddy
here.

“I wrote and told Thomas you were here with
us. I’m certain he is relieved,” Eugenia said and patted him on the
hand.

“I’m glad to be of help to you all. I hope
this war ends soon and that Father returns safely.”

Eugenia closed her eyes and nodded in prayer.
Patrick took a long sip of red wine and looked over at me for the
first time all night. Warren’s eyes were glued to me, but I was
waiting for Patrick to notice me in my lovely gown. It was my
lowest-cut bodice, revealing my cleavage. When his eyes finally
drifted toward me, my heart pounded heavily and I felt butterflies
in my stomach. What about him gave me goose bumps? I asked myself.
Did all sisters feel this way for their handsome older
half-brothers? And did all older half-brothers look at their
sisters the way Patrick looked at me? I was confused, more so than
ever, although this time I wasn’t frightened, the way I had been
with Perry Montgomery. I didn’t know why that could be, except I
felt as though I’d known Patrick forever and that he’d been
destined to come to Sutton Hall to see me, not just Daddy.

With every gulp of wine Patrick downed, he
became more relaxed. His usually composed manner became casual, and
as the night progressed, after hours of stories of voyages across
the sea, he suggested that we gather into the parlor and sing
Christmas carols.

“And Amelia will sing for us, won’t you?” he
asked, and he pulled my chair out for me. He had been faster than
Warren and bumped him out of the way to get to me first.

“Of course,” I replied, and I allowed him to
lead me into the parlor.

Patrick poured himself and Warren some
brandy, lit up a cigar, and made himself comfortable on the settee.
Reclining with his long legs crossed, he instructed me to begin.
“Sing for us Amelia, sing ‘It Came Upon a Midnight Clear’.”

I pulled out my music book, skimmed over the
sheet music, and began.

When I was singing the Christmas carols, it
bothered me a little that we didn’t have a decorated tree in the
corner. It was one of my favorite traditions, decorating the tree
with Hattie. This year was different in so many ways, but the music
was the same, and that eased my heavy heart.

I thought about the Christmas package Eugenia
had instructed Hamilton to send out to Daddy weeks ago and wondered
if he’d received it. It must be heartbreaking for all those men to
be away from their families in the holiday season. I wondered if
Daddy was sad to be away.

I sang many songs, and before I knew it, the
clock read eleven. Eugenia had retired for the evening. Warren and
Patrick stayed on as my loyal audience, smoking and drinking, and
to my delight, they even sang along with me.

I finished playing as the clock chimed
eleven, and closed the cover to the piano keys. I announced that it
was time for bed, but not before playfully adding, “So Santa Claus
can arrive.”

Warren and Patrick chuckled and downed what
was left of the bottle.

“Amelia, may I have a moment with you before
you retire for the evening?” Patrick asked politely. “In
private.”

He threw Warren a look that indicated he
should leave. Warren leaned in, kissed my cheek, and said softly,
“Merry Christmas, Miss Arrington.”

I watched Warren walk out and thought about
how nice it was to have him there. I recalled how I’d found him
lying face down in a pool of blood, thinking he was dead for sure.
How good it was that he had lived to celebrate another
Christmas.

“Well, here we are,” I said to Patrick, once
we were alone. “What is it you needed to see me about?”

Patrick’s eyes were wide and alert, his
breath overwhelming with the scent of brandy. He stood before me
with one hand in his pocket and with the other reached for my hand
and sat me down. Each time Patrick came close to me, I became
covered in goose bumps. This time was no different.

“Amelia,” he began, not letting go of my
hand. “I wish we could have met years before. I have been keeping
something for you, and now is the perfect time for you to have it.
Merry Christmas.” Patrick gently turned over my hand, pulled out
from his breast pocket a brooch, and laid it down in my palm. I
studied it for a long moment, staring at a hand-painted portrait
surrounded by the gold and seed pearls that outlined the
brooch.

“That is a portrait of Charlotte, your
mother,” he said, though I already knew. “As she was dying, she
begged me to give it to you someday, her baby she swore would be a
girl. I took it from her jewelry box the night she died, hours
after you were born, and kept it with me all these years to ensure
that one day you would have it.

“You look so much like her, it’s remarkable.
You have her delicate features and her soft, creamy skin,” he said,
touching my cheek as he spoke.

I lifted my eyes and looked up at him. His
dark eyes were glazed over, his usually firm jaw relaxed. His warm
fingers slowly traced my cheekbone, then down to my lips, making me
tremble with excitement. “Charlotte had your rosy, full lips too,”
he murmured.

“Thank you, Patrick,” I said softly. “I am
truly grateful you brought this to me.”

I carefully leaned into him and went to kiss
his cheek, brushing his lips with mine as I moved. Before I knew
what was happening, our lips were locked together and we were
kissing. It was a real kiss, just like the one Perry Montgomery and
I had shared. I closed my eyes and allowed the kiss to continue.
Then, as if coming out of some kind of trance, he jerked away. I
stood, dizzy, trying to catch my breath.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I
don’t know what came over me. Please forgive me. I promise not to
let such a thing happen ever again. It was just…” he stopped and
took hold of me again, staring into my eyes with intense distress.
“There is something special about you, Amelia. Something dangerous.
It’s not only your beauty that is irresistible, you know,” he
desperately tried to explain.

I could barely find my voice, but I finally I
managed to speak. “I didn’t mind the kiss.”

His jaw clenched and he released his hold.
“You should mind. This is wrong, so very wrong.” He anxiously ran
his fingers through his thick, dark hair. I could see that Patrick
was trying to think it through, trying to understand what was
happening between us. We both felt an attraction that shouldn’t be,
but it was undeniable. “This mustn’t happen again, ever. Do you
understand!”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It’s my fault. I’m
sorry.” I covered my face with my hands and ran out, dropping the
brooch without concern.

“Amelia!” he called, but I didn’t stop. I ran
to my room and locked the door. I fell into bed, cursing myself for
once again dabbling with sin. I was drawn to it, tempted by it, and
destined to become like my mother, without any shadow of a
doubt.

Christmas dawned with glorious sunshine on a
balmy winter’s day. I woke and hurried to open my windows, allowing
the soft sun to beam against my skin.

Putting the previous evening’s ordeal aside,
I merrily dressed, and before heading to the kitchen to assist
Mammy, before laying out the wrapped gifts for all, I quickly
scanned over Patrick’s respectful letter of apology and placed it
in my armoire, along with the brooch he’d left outside my door,
wrapped in one of his monogrammed handkerchiefs.

Mammy gave me a somber Christmas greeting,
and I quickly realized what a very tragic holiday it was for us. As
much as I wanted to think of presents and celebrating this merry
time of year, I also knew it was our most difficult time.

Even though Daddy and I shared a rift, a deep
rift that came from him loving Eugenia, I couldn’t help but
suddenly miss him.

I went to Mammy, kissed her cheek, and asked
what I could do to help.

“I got it all done, Miss Amelia. Would you go
see to Hattie? She’s sick in bed.”

Jacob was down by her feet, contentedly
playing with three of my glass marbles. When I knelt down and
kissed him atop his head, he smiled and touched my nose and said,
“Nose!”

“Very good, Jacob Thomas. What a smart little
fellow you are.”

Just then, Patrick entered the kitchen.
“Merry Christmas, ladies! Breakfast smells scrumptious.”