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“The holly and the hawthorn serve different purposes,” she said, lifting her hand but then dropping it when the kid leather touched her lips. “The hawthorn has bare branches, whereas the holly has green leaves. Both will be lovely, but in different ways.”

“Yes.” Evie nodded. “I agree wholeheartedly.”

Freddie could hug his sister for her defense of Pippy.

His father just shrugged. “At this rate, we will be out here all day. Why do we not split up the list and hurry it along?”

Freddie nodded, surprised he’d not thought of it himself. The sooner his father was away, the better. “Very well.” He looked at his wife. “What other plants did you have in mind?”

She listed off several. “I believe we’ll want more evergreen boughs than anything. They are the best bases for whatever we make. And they smell delightful.”

“That’s it?” his father asked more tersely than was necessary.

Pippy reared back slightly, but then retook her position. “We will stop by the winter garden on our way back. I saw some Viburnum and Hellebore when Frederick and I were there the other day. The flowers will add more color and soften the boughs.”

His father looked like he wanted to object. Not to her assertions as much as to the added time and effort. “Very well. Your sisters and I will go see what we can find.” He motioned to a stretch of evergreen trees. “We’ll gather the boughs. And I believe there is laurel as well.”

They turned and left, his father calling to the servant. It seemed Freddie and Pippy were on their own to cut and carry their finds. But it was worth it not to have his father studying Pippy, as if trying to find her every defect.

“There is a holly bush over there.” Pippy pulled him from his thoughts.

They walked, the ground becoming more entangled with ivy and brambles the closer they got. “Watch your footing. I don’t want you to take a tumble.” He considered—only momentarily—scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the holly. But he quickly discarded that notion. “You did well standing up to my father.”

Her lips set into a thin, hard line. “I’m sure it did nothing to bring him round to liking me.”

Freddie shook his head as he reached out to steady her. Or maybe it was to steady himself? “He’ll respect you more if you stand up to him. He wants deference, as is his due, but he’s never been one to respect cowardice.”

Her eyes jerked up to his. “You thought I was a coward?”

“No,” he backtracked. “I meant that’s what he prefers. You did well.”

She looked down at her hand but then pulled her lip between her teeth instead. “If you believe so…” she trailed off. “Here’s the holly. Oh, and there is plenty of healthy-looking ivy. I think we will get all we need here.” She looked over her shoulder. “Hand me the pruning knife, and I’ll cut it?”

He coughed out a laugh and shook his head. “You’ll do no such thing. I’ll cut the holly. Show me which branches you want.”

She gave him an exasperated sigh. “I’m perfectly capable.”

He tapped the tip of her nose. “I’m certain you are, my dear. But I’ll not have you cutting yourself. I have no desire to call the doctor or surgeon. We’ll never win if it’s only up to my sisters, my father, and me to assemble.”

She looked only slightly mollified, but stepped back from the tree.

“Which one do you want? This?” Freddie reached up and pulled a branch down as he glanced over his shoulder.

Pippy shook her head. “No, that is obviously an older one. Do you see how the leaves have smoothed out? There are no sharp points to it. It looks more like a mistletoe leaf than holly.” She pointed up higher on the tree. “Those look as they should.”

Freddie tipped his head back. He would need to be on his tiptoes to reach them. “I can barely reach. How did you suppose you would cut them?”

“Perhaps I climb trees as well as Ari,” she said with a hint of challenge in her voice.

Freddie dropped his head back to laugh just as the branch came free. The knife fell from his hand, narrowly missing his face. The holly, however, did not miss.

Freddie took a step backward and his heel caught on a vine. Before he knew what was happening, he was buried in the dusty leaves.

“Frederick,” Pippy let out a screech. “Are you all right? Did you cut yourself?”

“Blast it all,” Freddie muttered. “I’m fine. The knife missed me.” He struggled to stand, but it was as if the ivy was restraining him. The more he squirmed, the more entangled he became.

“Let me help you.” Pippy appeared in his line of sight.