Colonel MacFane declared that he would not play, admitting good-naturedly as he lifted a snifter to his lips, “I prefer not to waste my brandy!”
The twin aunts, Ladies Thea and Thyra Charlton, would watch from a safe distance, lest they singe their fingertips, and Uncle Bertrand would act as a referee in case the game grew dangerous or out of hand.He positioned himself across the table from Aurelia so that he might continue his curious study of her face, for he seemed enthralled by her presence at Brantingham House.
Doubtless, the older gentleman was worldly enough and shrewd enough to suspect that something simmered beneath the surface of her friendly relationship with His Grace.Was their attraction to one another so palpable that he questioned her virtue, though she and the Duke had shared nothing more than kisses?
The Duke of Brantingham took his place at the table, standing beside her.His hand touched the small of her back, lightly and gently, and—undoubtedly—possessively.“Light the brandy, if you will, Dowell.”
With a strike of a match, the bowl of brandy and raisins burst to life.Blue flames danced as the younger members of the family clamored to take their turns reaching into the fire.
“Look at you,” laughed Uncle Bertrand, “pagans gathered ‘round the pyre.”
Margie’s face was awash in light and color.“Witches at our cauldrons!”
The Charlton sisters tittered across the table, for they were not strangers to this rather dangerous game.Surely, they had never looked prettier or more alive than in this thrilling moment.
“Alright, you heathens,” said the Duke, vigorously rubbing the palms of his hands together.She had never seen him so competitive, though he must’ve been a skilled athlete in his school days.“Shall we play?What about you, Aurelia?Are you up to the challenge?”
She looked into his handsome, smiling face, which appeared boyish and filled with a spirit of fun.“Oh, yes, I played Snap-dragon at school.Girls—may I remind Your Grace—are ruthless.”
Again, Fannie and Margie cackled.
Since it was Lady Fanetta’s idea, the youngest Chartlon was nominated to go first.They chanted in unison a poem from days of old, and then she shouted,“Snip!Snap!Dragon!”as she snatched a raisin from the flames.
Fannie raised her trophy high, basking in the warmth of applause, and then ate the brandied raisin.She cooled her tongue with a swallow of champagne, still relishing in her victory.
Margie and Lord Kexby retrieved their raisins, but when Perry’s turn came, the youngest member of their gathered group singed his fingers and lost his raisin to the fire.He huffed and puffed and blew on his reddened flesh, yet he wasn’t seriously injured.
Lord Ruston pressed a brandy glass into his hand.“Drink your forfeit,” said the fellow, merrily.“It’ll take the sting out!”
The Duke of Brantingham laughed by her side, adding, “In more ways than one, lad.”He flexed his hand at Aurelia’s back, just above the soft bustle padding of her skirt.“It’s your turn,” he told her, teasingly.
She was swept up in the jollity of the moment, and emboldened by His Grace’s teasing, and encouraged by his siblings’ ebullience, cheering her on.Yes, they were a competitive bunch, but they wanted everyone to have their turn and take their prize.
Grinning, Aurelia stripped her long, kidskin gloves from elbow to wrist.She peeled them from her fingers and then tossed them gamely to the Duke.
“Ohhhh!”shouted the family—these Charltons, Beausires, and MacFanes who were not so elevated that they couldn’t have a good time.They were noblemen, debutantes, spinsters, military leaders, and ladies of society, but they were also human.They welcomed Aurelia with open arms.
Again, those gathered around the flaming vessel chanted their incantation, calling forth the lapping, blue-tongued dragon and the giddy spirit of Old Christmas.She had played Snap-dragon with her classmates as a child, and later, with her friends at dinner parties and grown-up festivities.She knew that speed was her ally against the heat.She set her sights on her prize, and unwavering in her determination to have it, took a long, steady breath and called out, “Snip!Snap!Dragon!”
Aurelia plunged her bare knuckles into the fire.She felt the brandy coat her skin.The fire stung her arm, but she clasped the red-hot raisin in her fingers and drew it from the bowl.
She ate her prize with satisfaction, though her flesh smarted and her cheeks burned.She had risen to the challenge and claimed victory for herself.The silly game—and the welcoming nature of these people around her—reminded Aurelia that she could do anything she set her mind to.
“Well done!”said the Duke.His large, warm hand encircled her waist and drew her against him in a fond embrace.He, too, felt swept up in the fun.“I knew you were fearless, Aurelia!”
She gazed up at him with pride and wonder.Had she ever known a better Christmas than this one, spent in the arms ofthisman, and in the bosom of his family?“Now it’s your turn, Your Grace, though I pity you for having to follow me.”
He laughed at that.“Don’t worry, I shall put in a good showing.”
The Duke of Brantingham returned her gloves, though Aurelia didn’t bother pulling them back onto her arms.It was a clever opportunity to enjoy a lapse in propriety and to touch with her bare hands the man who’d claimed her heart.
She linked her fingers with his, yet no one seemed appalled by their thrilling little intimacies.Only Uncle Bertrand noticed their joined hands, though he did not seem to disapprove.Strangely, his eyes grew misty and wistful, and she imagined that he felt gladdened to see his nephew so happy.
His Grace made a great show of licking his fingers and flourishing his free hand mere inches above the flames.His siblings and cousins recited the poem.Even his aunts and Colonel and Mrs.MacFane joined in, lending their voices to the call.
The Duke played up to his audience, conjuring the mythical creature that had captured his ancestors’ imaginations since the sixteenth century.Even Shakespeare himself had written of the ‘flap-dragon’ and of the Christmas game to which it had lent its name.
“Snip…” he touched his fingertips to the fire, and then drew back to heighten the drama.“Snap…” The hand that he kept clasped to Aurelia’s squeezed her knuckles playfully.
