Christmas Carol (17 page)

“I suppose we could find something. Hettie,
put down that knife before you cut off a finger and go see if you
can locate a vase in the everyday china closet.”

Mrs. Marks was, as always when dealing with
Carol, polite but not particularly pleasant. Carol had long
suspected the cook of disliking her. It had never bothered her
before, but for some reason on this evening the cool glance Mrs.
Marks gave to the flowers in her hand irritated Carol.

“Actually,” Carol said, pulling back the
wrapping a bit and holding out the flowers, “I bought them for the
table down here. Nell told me you are planning a Christmas feast
and I thought you might like a centerpiece.” She had thought no
such thing while purchasing the roses, intending them for her own
room.

“Oh, ain’t they pretty?” Hettie returned from
the china closet with a vase. “I do like red and green together. So
Christmasy. Thank you, Miss Simmons. They’ll look ever so nice on
our holiday table, where we can all enjoy them.”

“The feast we are planning,” said Mrs. Marks
in a repressive tone of voice, “will not take place for two days
yet. These flowers will surely be dead by that time.”

“If they are,” Carol replied, seeing Hettie’s
face fall at this prediction, “then I will go out and purchase
another bouquet.”

“You could eat with us on Christmas Eve,”
Hettie suggested, oblivious to Mrs. Marks’s scowl of disapproval.
“I know Nell has asked you, ‘cause she told me so.”

“I’m sorry,” Carol replied. “I won’t be able
to do that. I have plans for Christmas Eve, and for Christmas Day,
too. Some old friends from the United States will be in London for
the holiday and I am eager to see them again. Hettie, I leave the
flowers with you, to arrange as you think best.” Thrusting the
bouquet into Hettie’s hands, Carol made her escape from the
kitchen.

“Humph,” she heard Mrs. Marks mutter behind
her departing back, “I didn’t know Miss Simmons had any
friends.”

“Oh, what a shame. Everyone should have
friends. I hope she’s not lonely,” Hettie responded. “Anyway, the
flowers are beautiful.”

By the time Carol reached her room she was
furious with herself.

“Why did I make such a stupid excuse? Now
I’ll have to go out on the holiday even if I don’t want to, or
they’ll know I was lying to get out of eating with them. I don’t
feel like pretending anymore. Most of my life has been pretending
and I’m sick of it.” With a rough motion Carol tore the paper off
the bowl of narcissus. A stem rising from one of the bulbs lifted
half-open buds into the air. Carol sniffed at them appreciatively.
“At least they don’t smell like lavender.”

That thought stopped her with the bowl in her
hands before she could put it down on the table beside the wing
chair. Lady Augusta’s last words to her before removing Carol from
the nineteenth century had indicated that there was still more to
come, which suggested the probability of another ghostly
visitation. Carol did not want to see Lady Augusta again. She
wanted to try to forget what had happened on the previous night.
She did not think she would ever be able to forget Nicholas, but
putting the unexplainable events firmly into the past and shutting
the door on them seemed to her to be the only way to maintain her
sanity. Still, she had to admit that the ghost of Lady Augusta held
a certain fascination.

“She is more interesting dead than she ever
was alive. When she was living, she was just a miserly,
argumentative pain in the neck.” Carol put the bowl of narcissus on
the table and stood back to judge the effect. “It doesn’t look
right there. Perhaps on the bedside table.” She picked up the red
glass bowl and headed toward the bed.

“Miss Simmons?”

“Ye gods, Nell, don’t creep up on me like
that!” Carol exclaimed. “I nearly dropped this.”

She did not mention her relief that Nell was
not a ghost.

“Oh, those’ll be pretty when they open.” Nell
regarded the narcissus with approval. “Yes, they belong there,
right next to your bed, so you can see them first thing every
morning. Hettie told me you gave her the roses. She says she’s
never had a nicer Christmas present.”

“It wasn’t a present, just something for all
of you to enjoy.”

“Don’t tell Hettie that or you’ll break her
heart. She thinks you are wonderful.” Nell set down the tray she
was carrying. “Mrs. Marks said you’ll be out Christmas Eve and
Christmas Day, so we aren’t to make meals for you then.”

“That’s right.” Again Carol cursed herself
for making an impulsive excuse that was going to be extremely
inconvenient. She wasn’t certain any restaurants would be open on
the holiday, and even if she could find one, it would mean buying a
meal that she could have gotten free at Marlowe House.

“Be sure you don’t skip dinner tonight the
way you did last night,” Nell admonished, lifting the metal dome
off the tray to reveal a plate heaped with seafood curry, rice, and
peas. A small bowl of chutney sat beside the dinner plate. Dessert
was a fresh pear and gingerbread.

“It smells wonderful,” Carol said, “and I am
hungry. I am just going to get a glass of water to put on the
narcissus, and then I promise to eat every bite.”

But when she returned from the bathroom all
thought of food was swept from Carol’s mind the instant she stepped
through the bedchamber door. She stopped short, clenching the
filled water glass in both hands so she wouldn’t spill it. The
visitor who was bending over the bowl of flowers straightened and
turned around when Carol kicked the door shut. With only the lamp
beside the wing chair lit, most of the bedroom was in shadow. Even
though she could not see the figure clearly, Carol knew at once who
it was.

“Good evening,” said Lady Augusta. “I have
been waiting for you.”

“What do you want with me now?” Carol
demanded. “Haven’t you done enough harm already?”

“It is my opinion that I have done only good
to you,” Lady Augusta responded, “and will do still more good on
this night.”

“I refuse to become involved in another
time-travel excursion,” Carol stated. “I haven’t recovered from the
last one yet.”

“I do understand how difficult it is to
change your heart,” Lady Augusta said in a surprisingly sympathetic
tone. “While I lived I was never able to do so, though I had many
opportunities to alter my ways. You may take comfort in the
knowledge that during your visit to the past you learned a valuable
lesson or two, and you prevented much grief for those whom you
loved in that time.”

“A famous woman once said that no good deed
will go unpunished.” Carol could not keep the bitterness out of her
voice. “I am paying now for my generosity to Lady Caroline.”

“Yes, you were generous,” said Lady Augusta.
“You will receive full credit for your actions. However, I note
that you have not yet given up your essential selfishness. You have
much more to learn in the two nights still to come. We shall begin
at once.” She moved from the bedside toward the middle of the room,
passing into the light of the single lamp, and now Carol could see
her clearly for the first time.

“Are you headed for a costume party?” Carol
asked, surveying her unwelcome guest’s appearance. “Who are you
supposed to be, anyway?”

“Do you like my gown? Personally, I am quite
pleased with the overall effect.” Lady Augusta was wearing a robe
of deep red velvet. Long strands of ivy were wrapped about the robe
in a spiral pattern. The garlands were caught here and there with
sprigs of red-berried holly or with small bunches of green and
white mistletoe. A high collar of rubies and diamonds encircled
Lady Augusta’s neck, and ruby and diamond earrings fell in
glittering showers almost to her shoulders. She wore wide matching
bracelets on each wrist. Her shining black hair, which on this
occasion displayed not a single streak of white, was piled high and
decorated with a diamond snowflake ornament.

“You look like one of the Christmas trees I
saw in a florist’s window this afternoon,” Carol said.

“That is altogether appropriate, since on
this night you will witness Christmas in the present.” Lady Augusta
moved toward Carol, who backed away until she was pushed up against
the door. “Come now, Carol, surely you are no longer afraid of
me.”

“Why don’t you leave me alone?” said Carol
rudely.

“Dear me.” Lady Augusta sounded surprised and
a bit hurt. “I hoped the lessons you learned last night would stay
with you longer. I regret to see how quickly you have reverted to
your earlier self.”

“How could you imagine that I would be glad
to see you again after you took me away from the one man I have
ever really loved?” Carol cried.

“I did not remove you. You left voluntarily.
You still do not understand. But then, how could you? Water your
flowers, my dear, and we will go.” Moving aside to let Carol pass,
Lady Augusta lifted the dome on the dinner tray. “I see Mrs. Marks
has been stirring up that dreadful curry recipe of hers, now that
she doesn’t have to feed me anymore. I never could abide the
stuff.” Lady Augusta sniffed, turning up her nose in distaste.

“I happen to like curry,” Carol retorted,
pouring the contents of the water glass over the narcissus bulbs.
“But I suppose I won’t have an opportunity to eat it, will I? If
you insist on snowing up every night at dinnertime and taking me
away, I will probably starve to death before you are finished with
me.”

“There is little chance of that.” Lady
Augusta smiled at her and Carol began to tremble.

“What are you going to do this time?” Carol
asked.

“Come.” Lady Augusta held out her hand. When
Carol did not move, the smile turned into a scowl. “Do not be
childish. We have work to do and no time to waste. If you do not
take my hand, Carol, I will be forced to embrace you once
more.”

“Oh, all right.” Reluctantly, Carol reached
toward the ghost and felt cold fingers clasp hers.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lady Augusta
was smiling again.

“Where are we going?” Carol asked.

“We have two visits to make tonight. The
first is to the servants’ hall.”

“ Why?” Carol tried to pull her hand away,
but Lady Augusta held fast to her.

“You have a habit of asking the wrong
questions,” Lady Augusta told her. “Just come with me and I will
explain as we go along.”

In an instant they were standing in the warm,
bright kitchen of Marlowe House.

“How did you do that?” Carol demanded. “We
didn’t come down the stairs. We didn’t even walk out of my bedroom
door.”

“Delightful, isn’t it? I do so enjoy the
transportation part of my assignment.”

Carol scarcely heard her companion. She was
staring at Nell, Hettie, and Mrs. Marks, who were all bustling
about the kitchen.

“Nell, what are you doing?” asked Carol,
putting out a hand to catch the maid’s attention. Nell walked right
by her as if Carol wasn’t there.

“She cannot see or hear you,”. said Lady
Augusta.

“Why not? What kind of trick is this?” Carol
cried.

“You persist in thinking that I am playing
mere tricks on you,” responded Lady Augusta with exaggerated
patience, “when in fact, what is occurring is of an importance far
beyond your comprehension. No person whom we will encounter on this
night will be aware of your presence. Until your heart is finally
and permanently changed, you cannot be allowed to alter the
present-day course of events. What you see before you is this
year’s Christmas Day at Marlowe House. Your duty is to observe, to
think upon what you see, and to consider ways in which you might
improve the lives of others.”

Carol said nothing to this. She watched as
the female servants prepared and set out a holiday meal under the
direction of Mrs. Marks. A small roasted turkey with chestnut
stuffing, a sauceboat of gravy, bowls of whipped potatoes,
cranberry sauce, and several dishes of vegetables were all carried
into the servants’ dining room, where the table was laid with a
spotless white cloth and gilt-edged plates.

“They are using my mother’s best china,” Lady
Augusta noted. “Well, why not? No one will know unless they break a
plate, and Mrs. Marks will see to it that all is replaced where it
should be when they have finished.”

“Where is Crampton?” Carol asked.

“In the wine cellar,” came Lady Augusta’s
reply just as the butler appeared with two dusty bottles.

“They are stealing your wine for their
dinner?” Carol exclaimed.

“By household tradition, the servants are
allowed a bottle or two for their own use on Christmas,” said Lady
Augusta, “and I have always left it up to Crampton to choose the
wine. It appears that he is still honest. While those particular
bottles are adequate for this feast, he has not brought up the best
my cellar has to offer. He must know the servants would not
appreciate it, while my nephew will.”

Carol wasn’t really paying attention to what
Lady Augusta was saying. She was much more interested in what the
servants were doing. As the women took off their aprons, she
realized that they were all three dressed in what must be their
best clothes. Crampton, who was occupied in opening one of the wine
bottles, was also properly attired in jacket and necktie.

“This is the Christmas meal to which you were
invited,” Lady Augusta explained, “and which you refused to
attend.”

“I would eat it now if I could,” said Carol.
Her invisibility did not prevent her from smelling the delicious
aromas coming from the turkey or the vegetables and the freshly
baked rolls. From past experience she knew what a good cook Mrs.
Marks was, and her mouth was watering. “I’m hungry. I never did eat
lunch today and now, thanks to you, I have missed my second dinner
in a row.”