Page 10 of Christmas Secrets

“What do you mean? Is something troubling you, my lord?”

“That’s my business.” He felt ready to explode. What was happening here?

“Lord Percival, please sit down,” she said with a wave of her hand. “The food is getting cold. I warmed up the pork I found in your travel bag and made a sauce out of the dried currants and some ale and honey. I think it’ll compliment the carrots and parsnips I found in your things as well.”

“We brought the bread,” said little Noel, pushing the hard loaf of brown bread over to him. “We’re sharing. Don’t you want any of our food?”

Percival slowly took a seat at the table. The last thing he wanted was any hard, brown bread. Being a noble, he was used to white bread at the table. But a part of him didn’t want to disappoint the little boy. Slowly, he reached out, tearing off a piece of bread and handing it to Noel.

“Nay. I want you to have mine,” said the child, for some reason almost melting Percival’s heart with the child’s innocent generosity, wanting to share what little he had.

“We will all share.” Percival pulled off another piece for Holly and saved the smallest for himself. It was chewy, but he didn’t complain. He also loved the flavors that Holly cooked up, having planned on just eating his food cold, actually.

“My lord, is it to your liking?” she asked.

“Yes. Very tasty.” His eyes fastened to the flame on the taper as he ate. Then his gaze traveled down to the green branches and sprigs of holly on the table. His chewing stopped. All he could see in his mind was his father being led to the gallows. Everyone laughed and mocked him, having decorated the gallows with these exact things. They even had Christmas tapers burning on the platform, mocking his father, telling him to enjoy his Christmas.

This was more than he could handle. The scent of juniper was strong and he felt as if he were standing at the foot of the platform watching his father hang all over again.

He pushed up from the table so fast, he almost knocked it over.

* * *

Holly grabbedfor the candle as the bottle started to roll. All their dishes were spewed about as Percival shot out of his chair as if he’d been burned.

“I said no decorations!” he shouted, scooping up the boughs and holly sprigs, storming over to the door and throwing them outside.

Noel started to cry.

“Everything’s all right, Noel.” Holly quickly blew out the candle and hurried over to her brother. “It’s been a long day. You get to sleep and I’ll join you shortly.”

After tucking the little boy in, she pulled a curtain across that was fastened to the ceiling. This gave the person in the bed a little privacy.

A cold breeze blew into the cottage along with snow. When she went to close the door, she noticed Percival standing on the porch without his cloak. He had his face buried in his hands.

“Is something the matter?” she asked softly.

“Leave me alone,” came his gruff reply.

“Why don’t you come back into the cottage where it’s warm.”

His hands came away from his face. “I said, leave me alone, dammit.” He stormed off for the stable.

Holly watched him go. She was tempted to follow, but didn’t want to upset him more than he already was. She wasn’t sure if she did something wrong. She didn’t think so. Still, the man’s demeanor changed so quickly that she was starting to wonder again if it was safe to stay in the cottage with him.

She finished cleaning up the dishes and put more logs on the fire. Still, Percival hadn’t come back into the house. All she wanted to do was to climb in bed next to Noel and sleep. But she couldn’t. Not when she knew Percival was out there in the cold.

Donning her cloak, she grabbed his cloak from the hook on the wall. It was a warm cloak made of wool and lined with ermine. Still, she took one of the extra blankets off the bed and headed for the stable.

The wind whipped around her and the snow continued to fall. She felt frozen by the time she got to the stable. She was afraid she’d find him lying dead and frozen on the ground. But when she walked into the barn, she saw a light flickering from the other end.

“Percival?” she called out, but he didn’t answer. She entered the stable and closed the door behind her, heading over to investigate the light. To her surprise, there was a small fire burning, enclosed in an iron pot. The smoke went up and out a small hole in the roof.

She smiled to herself. This man was handy. The area was warm and the horses neighed happily, munching on some old hay making her wonder where he’d found it.

Then she saw Percival. He was hunkered down in a stall with his arms crossed over his chest and a half-empty bottle of wine in his hand. His head was back against the wall. It looked as if he were trying to keep warm. And he was sleeping.

She wanted to wake him and tell him to come inside. Then again, she didn’t want him to get grouchy again, especially since it looked as if he’d been drinking. Whatever it was that was bothering him, mayhap sleeping it off was the best answer.

She gently removed the bottle from his hand and he stirred but did not open his eyes. Then, she put it down and covered him with both his cloak and the blanket.

“Sweet dreams, my lord,” she whispered, leaving him to his slumber, heading back into the house. Mayhap tomorrow she could persuade him to tell her what she did to make him so angry.