“Oh, we can start now,” she gushed. She turned her gaze on Robert and said, “Are you coming?”
Tempted to make an excuse—he could hide in his study or the library—Robert stood and took a deep breath. “If you think I’ll be of any assistance, then, I suppose I will join you.”
He was more surprised than Graves when she rushed over to him and kissed him on the cheek. “You’ll want to wear some old gloves, Ritchfield. To keep the sap off your fingers,” she said, hooking her arm into his. “They’ll be in the trunk that Perkins has brought down. And do be careful whilst you’re doing the wiring. The ends are always rather sharp, and I don’t want you impaling yourself.”
“I appreciate that,” Robert replied, giving Graves a beseeching glance as they made their way out of the breakfast parlor and to the workroom at the back of the house.
Usually used by the servants when they were mending, ironing, or folding clothes, the room had been transformed on this day by the addition of a wheelbarrow filled with greenery. Several cutting tools and rounds of wire were scattered about the trestle centered in the room along with gloves of various sizes. “This is where the sprays and wreaths are wired together,” Ivy explained. “The housemaids are working at the servants’ table in the kitchen.”
“What are they making?”
“The bows and other decorations, of course,” she replied. “Oh, and don’t forget to make a kissing bough, if you would. We didn’t have one last year.”
“I can’t imagine why,” Robert deadpanned.
She gave him a quelling glance. “There’s no mistletoe to be found around these parts, so we must make do,” she explained.
“And how, pray tell, is a kissing bough supposed to look?” he asked, helping himself to a pair of gloves. He experimentally fisted and opened his hand to determine they were a good fit.
“You really don’t do this at Gladstone Hall?” she asked.
“Ido not. The servants see to it,” he replied defensively.
“Well, it’s a small evergreen bough, so you needn’t use a lot of greenery. Just form it into a sort of ball and the maids will see to adding paper flowers and apples?—”
“Apples?”
“Yes. Oh, I brought some with me,” she said.
“Is there any foodstuff you didn’t bring with you?” he asked rhetorically.
“Venison,” she stated without a pause.
“I could maybe see to bagging a stag whilst I’m here,” he offered. “In fact…” He was about to remove the gloves when Ivy placed a hand on his arm.
“It’s far too cold out there, darling,” she whispered, gently squeezing his arm. “Perhaps when it warms up. After Christmas,” she added.
“Oh, all right,” he said, pulling the glove back on. “So what else is going to be attached to this kissing bough? It sounds as if I need to make it big enough so there is room for all the fripperies,” he said.
“Well, one year they made dolls from fabric representing Mary, Joseph, and Jesus and added those to the flowers and the apples.”
Robert scrunched his face into a grimace. “And where exactly does this kissing bough get hung?”
Ivy lifted a shoulder. “In a doorway somewhere. Perkinswill see to it. I’ll be sure to lead you there at some point,” she added with a wink.
She didn’t bother to mention that last year, Perkins had hung the kissing bough over the entry to the kitchen and then insisted he be kissed every time a maid had to make her way through the door.
Although it had led to the fallout betwixt Perkins and Graves—Graves had not been amused by the footman’s antics—it had resulted in the marriage of the groom, Bobby, to the housemaid, Christina.
Robert had to resist the urge to counter Ivy’s wink with one of his own. “I shall do my best, my lady,” he said, shoo’ing her out of the workroom.
What had he gotten himself into?
