Noelle nodded up at him solemnly. “Christmas is for believing.”
“It’s not called—” Benjamin burst out laughing despite himself. “You’re doing it on purpose now, aren’t you?”
“I cannot imagine what you mean.” She blinked at him innocently. “I must say your cousin is quite charming.”
Yes, Benjamin supposed he was.
If coming face-to-face with Noelle after all these years had reminded Benjamin of Christmases past, then Christopher was the very embodiment of present-day Christmas.
It was more than a matter of living in the moment. It was as though Christopher was living the life Benjamin would be living if he had made different choices. Christopher was gregarious and easy-going. As comfortable in small gatherings as in a crowd. He loved bobbing for apples and singing carols and he likely wouldn’t leave Cressmouth without purchasing a sleigh. He was carefree in a way that Benjamin never had been, even as a child. How could he be?
Benjamin’s life had begun with tragedy. His mother had not died during childbirth, but rather from complications that had plagued her thereafter. She lived just long enough to pose for a portrait with him in her arms, and then was taken from him. Taken from them all.
Grandfather had blamed Benjamin ever since.
Father had been his only ally, but he too had been ripped from Benjamin before his time. When Grandfather stole the locket, withheld the last link to family…
If it had not been for those formative events, would Benjamin be like Christopher today? Might he be cheerfully milling through a crowd of strangers, turning them into lifelong friends one by one?
He was jealous, he realized in surprise. Not of his cousin’s carefree life, but of his easy connection with the villagers. Over the last few days, he had realized that the people of Cressmouth weren’t being so nice and solicitous to him because of his title, or even his connection to the town’s founder.
They were justnice.
Benjamin hadn’t been experiencing the spirit of Christmas. He was experiencing the spirit ofCressmouth.
The townsfolk had become more important to Benjamin than any other shire in England, perhaps because they weren’t nameless and faceless like the rest of the population. He no longer cared about their welfare on a policy level, but a personal one.
“Wherein our entertainment shall shame us, we will be justified in our loves,” shouted an actor. “For indeed…”
The Winter’s Talehad finally begun. Unlike the good people of Cressmouth, Benjamin had not seen this play before. Or any play, to be honest. He kept himself far too busy. Although he could not imagine sitting through the exact same play year after year, the audience was rapt with attention.
He leaned back slightly for a better view. He was watching Noelle rather than the play. He couldn’t help it. She was far more interesting and a lot less easy to read. Every time he looked at her, his thoughts jumbled. He wished he had kissed her. He was relieved he had not. All his thoughts of her were contradictions. She made him want to stay. She made him want to flee. She made him…want.
His arms felt empty without her in them. He yearned to know what it might be like to wrap them about her, to feel her body pressed against his. To claim her mouth with a kiss.
Only her mouth, of course. He could claim nothing else, and he should not even be thinking of that much. It did not matter that she consumed his every thought, his every desire. It did not matter that she somehow made him feel at home no matter whether they found themselves in an amphitheater, on a sleigh, in a counting house, an aviary staring at a pear tree.
No matter how fond he might be of Noelle, she was not of his status. He could not have her. She was his grandfather’s clerk. This was not his home. He had to try to remember.
“My prettiest Perdita!” called Prince Florizel from onstage. “But, oh, the thorns we stand upon…”
Noelle’s breath caught.
He touched his fingers to hers in question.
“Prince Florizel allows nothing to stand in his way,” she whispered, her eyes shining as she gazed down at the stage.
The pieces clicked together. Although Perdita was abandoned as a baby, Florizel fell in love with her anyway.Choseher anyway. No wonder Noelle loved this part. Benjamin’s chest clenched in regret.
He could not be her Prince Florizel. There was no magic spell to save them in the end. No running off to Sicily together.
Regardless of any wild fancies in Benjamin’s heart, he was not in a position to take a wife outside his class. Not when thumbing his nose at Society’s conventions could lose him political allies and impede his ability to make a difference in the House of Lords. Too many people were counting on him.
“Sure the gods do this year connive at us,” said Autolycus on stage, “and we may do anything…”
Benjamin understood the sentiment. He knew all too well what it was like to feel as though the fates had conspired against him. Being with Noelle made him wish hecoulddo anything. Watching her laugh at lines she had heard countless times and tear up at melodrama she already knew would occur was the most endearing thing he had ever seen.
She was not tired of this town, this play, this eternal Christmastide. She loved it. She looked forward to every aspect with anticipation and allowed herself to feel it all so deeply it was as if every line were experienced anew.
