Toil And Trouble, A Paranormal Romance (Jolie Wilkins)

by H. P. Mallory

  Mercedes just frowned.

  TWENTY

  Christmas day greeted Pelham Manor with a new blanket of crisp white snow. The house even smelled like Christmas: cinnamon, nutmeg, and clove. And while the season of mirth was upon us, I was not in any sort of mood to rejoice. Not while knowing the next day would rip me away from the only man I loved, was bonded with, heart to heart and soul to soul.

  Speaking of whom, Rand had been gone all day. I awoke to find myself alone and now it was just moments before dusk. Tension gnawed at my gut. I still hadn’t explained to him the part he would play in sending me back and worse still, that we were planning to attempt it tonight, just before midnight.

  “Did Mr. Balfour inform you of his whereabouts?” I asked Pelham, as I strolled into the drawing room.

  “No, the sly fox!” he said, somewhat unconcerned. A soft smile lit his pale face. For the first time in days he appeared almost well, as if the season had given him strength. We listened to Christine play “Oh Christmas Tree” on the piano. She sang a lovely rendition of the song in German, “Oh Tannenbaum.”

  I stood beside the roaring fire and felt like crying. Over the past few days, I had never been happier, never felt like I belonged somewhere so much as I did now. And I was unable to concentrate on anything but Rand and the bliss we experienced while bonding. If soul mates existed, he was mine. But I suddenly missed Christa—she was the one piece that didn’t fit into this puzzle. I expected to see her soon enough though, once I was zapped from this reality into my own. Along with Christa, much though I didn’t want to admit it, I also missed Sinjin. I missed his rapier wit, his smile, and his friendship. I wouldn’t allow myself to miss him more than that.

  I sipped my warm Glühwein, a German Christmas wine of black tea, orange juice, rum, cinnamon, clove, coriander, and sugar. Smiling down at Christine, I leafed to the next page of her sheet music when she nodded the okay. She looked lovely in a grey, white, and black plaid dress, its collar and sleeves trimmed in lace. A few sprigs of holly decorated her hair.

  “I wonder where our Mr. Balfour has disappeared to,” Pelham commented from his place on the settee before the fire.

  I offered him a warm smile. His health was definitely fading; he became progressively sicker as the days went by, but tonight he was in good spirits. Somehow, his symptoms made me double guess whether or not he truly had cholera, as his regression seemed too drawn out. I closed my eyes, using my magic to learn what the symptoms of cholera were and was answered with: intense vomiting, wrinkled hands, and sunken eyes, none of which Pelham exhibited. Hmm, maybe he’d been misdiagnosed?

  I previously decided I wouldn’t, shouldn’t, and couldn’t use my magic to heal him. But now something pulled inside me. The pity I felt toward him wrenched my soul and I couldn’t leave knowing I could have done something about it. Smiling at Christine, I walked toward the fireplace, taking a seat in the armchair opposite Pelham. I feigned interest in the fire and imagined healing white light surrounding Pelham, highlighting him in an aura of wellness. I did nothing but concentrate on healing him for a good five minutes, exhausting myself in the process.

  After I finished, I melted into the chair and looked over at him to find he’d fallen asleep which was just as well. When he awoke, he’d be a new man.

  Just then the front doors swung open, revealing the moonlight which illuminated the now dark sky accompanied by a howling wind. Rand entered the foyer, laden with packages, and Elsie hurried down the hallway, slamming the door shut behind him.

  “Happy Christmas!” Rand yelled, causing Pelham to jump about a foot into the air, after which he feigned a heart attack and turned around with a great smile.

  “Where have you been, Balfour?”

  Rand’s hair was peppered with snow, snow which followed him through the house as he carefully placed his packages under the Christmas tree. I smiled, trying to restrain the urge to throw my arms around him and kiss him. But I couldn’t do that. Pelham and Christine didn’t know about us yet. We’d decided to keep it a secret, since our future was now numbered in hours.

  “The Christkind has arrived!” Christine said with a laugh as I gave her a puzzled glance. “The Christkind in Germany is a plump little angel, very fair, who brings Christmas presents to the children!”

  I eyed Rand, noticing nothing Christkind about him in the least. Rand looked at me and his dimpled grin made me melt. “Miss Wilkins, you look ravishing, if I may say so.”

  I blushed profusely as I watched Pelham’s shocked expression, his eyebrows reaching for the sky. He glanced at Christine who merely shrugged, wearing a huge smile.

  “What has gotten into you?” Pelham inquired.

  Rand tore off his overcoat and left it on a coat rack beside the hearth. He stood in front of the fire, rubbing his hands together. “The Christmas spirit, my good man,” he answered and faced Christine. “Why are you not playing for us, Christine?”

  She nodded and returned her fingers to the piano, belting out “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen.”

  “Are you feeling well, Pelham?” Rand asked.

  Pelham nodded slowly, surprise in his eyes. “Yes, I have not felt so excellent in a long while, my friend. Perhaps we can attribute it to a Christmas miracle!”

  Rand glanced at me. Hmm, he must have realized it wasn’t a Christmas miracle at all but a Jolie miracle. Well, it didn’t appear to upset him. Quite the contrary, I’d never seen him so happy. Maybe he’d wanted to heal Pelham himself but didn’t have the power to do so?

  “Shall we open gifts now?” Rand asked, barely able to contain his excitement.

  “Oh, let’s!” Christine answered and clapped her hands together like a jubilant child.

  Rand nodded, and without further encouragement, he reached under the tree which now overflowed with packages beneath its bows. Rand picked up a promising gift festooned in bright red and green wrapping and handed it to Christine.

  “I shall play Father Christmas tonight,” he said happily.

  Christine ripped off the wrapping and beamed when she saw her new hat. The brim was extra wide and made of straw, topped with a white egret feather attached to a bouquet of pink and white silk roses.

  “Ach, du lieber Gott!” Christine exclaimed, which meant something like “Oh, my God!” She immediately put the hat on and beamed at Rand. “Thank you!”

  Rand returned her smile as he tossed the next gift to Pelham who became the recipient of a pocket watch. Before he could offer his thanks, Rand was busy handing both Christine and Pelham more gifts and searching under the tree for yet another. He finally emerged with a small box which he handed to me. I was surprised, not expecting to exchange gifts in front of the Pelhams. For all they knew, we were still enemies.

  I opened the package to find a ceramic bird statue, maybe a finch; its mouth appearing to be in the midst of song. I looked up to thank him but he was still sorting through the packages, tossing one after another to all three of us. By the time he was finished, Christine had received a hat, a riding outfit, the entire collection of Mozart and Beethoven sheet music, and a collection of ceramic cat statues. Pelham had received an assortment of wool scarves (which Rand claimed to have been imported from Scotland), the pocket watch, a gold compass, and a mahogany walking stick that featured a gold handle. I received not only the bird statue, but a silk covered journal, wooden fountain pen, and an emerald brooch. Christine then picked out her presents which she gave to all of us; wool mufflers in a variety of colors knitted by her own fingers.

  When it was my turn to play Santa, for Christine I’d magicked my favorite perfume, Flower Bomb by Viktor and Rolf along with the entire Black Dagger Brotherhood vampire book series by J.R. Ward. The covers alone were suggestive enough to give her a heart attack, so I camouflaged them inside the entire works of Jane Austen. Once Christine opened them, she’d be in for a big surprise! For Rand and Pelham, I’d magicked two huge feather down parkas I remembered seeing in an Eddie Bauer catalog last Christmas. They a
ccepted them suspiciously but soon embraced them once I said they were all the rage in France.

  Then Rand faced Pelham with a twinkle in his eye. “Is it time, Pel?” he asked.

  “It is,” Pelham responded, standing up, while Rand hurried to his side. “I am fine, Rand,” Pelham said. “No need to fuss over me. I will retrieve it.”

  Then he disappeared while Christine and I exchanged surprised glances. When he returned, he held a white box in his hands, maybe two feet tall by two feet wide which was wrapped in a red ribbon. He handed it to Christine, who happily accepted it and untied the ribbon. As soon as she released the ribbon, out came a long-haired, fluffy white and brown cat which meowed at her. With his baby pink nose, he was one of the cutest creatures I’d ever seen. Christine gently lifted him out of the box and I realized he was also the biggest cat I’d ever seen, definitely no lightweight.

  “Happy Christmas,” Pelham whispered, tears flooding his eyes which he furiously tried to blink away.

  “Ich habe mich in dich verliebt!” she said to the cat, which meant “I’ve fallen in love with you!” She kissed his whiskered face before turning to her brother. “Vielen Dank, William!” Then she addressed Rand. “Thank you! This is the best Christmas!”

  “What will you call him?” Rand asked, smiling with pleasure.

  She studied the cat which was busy cleaning her kisses off and purring. “I shall call him Bruno.”

  One of the Georges burst through the double kitchen doors with a dour expression announcing dinner was served. Pelham, Christine, and Bruno started for the dining room. Before I could take a step, Rand grabbed my hand and pulled me next to him. Pelham glanced back at us, startled. Rand’s cheeks flushed.

  “We shall be along momentarily,” Rand offered.

  Pelham shook his head while mumbling something about Christmas miracles and disappeared into the dining room.

  Before I could think to say anything, Rand dropped his head and kissed me. I wrapped my arms around him and returned his thrusting tongue, wanting to melt into him. He pulled away from my embrace and reached for his coat which he’d draped over the coat rack. Flakes of melted snow wetted the stone hearth. He fished inside the coat pocket and returned with a small gift, wrapped in silver foil. Shocked, I merely stared at it. Could it be what I imagined it was? No, this wasn’t a Lifetime special with some farcical happy ending. It was just earrings. Yeah, I’d go with that.

  He handed the gift to me and I reached out, accepting it. I tore the paper off, letting the silver foil fall to the ground. Rand lowered himself to one knee at the same time that I flipped open the box to find a ring. It was a brilliant sapphire encircled by white diamonds which reflected the fire light onto the walls, like a prism.

  Tears blurred my vision as I gazed from the ring to Rand’s hopeful face, suddenly aware what this meant, what he expected. “I love you, Jolie. And I want you to be my wife.”

  I shut my eyes to stifle the pain that suddenly overcame me. God, if only I could stay with him and play full-time homemaker. If only I could enjoy him warming my bed each night and sharing the rest of our lives together. But I knew it was useless. I couldn’t stay here. Not when so much depended on my and Mercedes’s return.

  “Rand,” I started.

  He took the ring out of the box and slid it onto my finger. It fit … perfectly. “It was my mother’s. And now I want you to wear it.”

  “It’s beautiful, Rand, but …”

  He stood up and kissed me again, erasing my concerns with his urgent lips. When he pulled away, his face was flushed. “No more talk of returning to your own time, Jolie. Not when you would be endangering yourself. I simply will not hear of it again.”

  “Rand …”

  “If ever your safety is in jeopardy, that is enough for me to refuse.”

  “I can’t stay here,” I protested softly. Rand’s attention focused on my hands which he clasped in his. I tightened my grip as I felt new tears rolling down my cheeks. “I have to go, Rand, and I have to bring Mercedes with me. There is too much at stake if I remain here.”

  “What is at stake aside from your safety if you return?”

  I swallowed hard. “Rand, Mercedes will die if we remain.”

  He gazed with an expressionless face at the fire. He didn’t answer but remained staring intently at the flames as they crackled and hissed. Then he turned to me with a face full of pain. “Then we could send her back alone,” he started, almost desperate. “I cannot lose you, Jolie.”

  I shook my head. “Rand, Mercedes is the prophetess and it was my mission to come here and take her back with me. We have a master plan to fulfill and I can’t abandon my responsibility.”

  “What master plan?” he demanded.

  “Providence’s,” I said in a small voice, trying to recall everything Mercedes had told me.

  “Jolie,” Rand started when Pelham suddenly appeared in the doorway.

  “Cripes, old man, are you joining us?”

  Rand nodded, but continued to stare at me. “Momentarily.”

  Pelham returned into the dining room.

  “Will you consider my proposal?” Rand asked.

  I nodded and marveled at the ring on my finger as it gleamed, representing a life of happiness—the life I’d always wanted. Damn it all, for one moment I’d pretend this could really be. Just for one moment. “Yes, of course.”

  Rand held out his arm and I ran my hand over the fine material of his sleeve, allowing him to escort me into the dining room. Yes, I’d pretend that Rand and I really could be a couple. That Christmas was truly a time for miracles.

  Silver linens covered the table, where a huge centerpiece of red roses, oranges dotted with cloves, and pine boughs dominated. Tall red tapers illuminated the great length of the table which contrasted with the snow plastering the window sills outside and the fire crackling in the hearth inside. It was a Christmas scene to end all Christmases, bar none. I sat opposite Rand, beside Christine, who seemed to be studying us intently. Once she caught sight of the ring on my finger, her grin grew exponentially. She picked up my hand and inspected it, suddenly addressing her brother.

  “It seems congratulations are in order,” she began while displaying my hand in the air for Pelham to see.

  Surprise was his only expression and he thumped Rand heartily on the back, his smile beaming. “Balfour! You are a sly fox after all.” He hugged Rand, eyeing me. “You will have the loveliest bride in the all the shires, old man.”

  Rand regarded me and nodded, his eyes deep pools of chocolate brown. “I am quite aware, Pel, I am quite aware.”

  One of the Georges interrupted my moment when he flew through the kitchen doors carrying a silver tureen, his brother at his heels with two serving trays. They laid them before us and George ~2 announced, “For your first course: brown Windsor soup, potato croquettes, baked cod’s heads, and Negus.”

  I just shook my head. What was it with the Victorian proclivity toward just eating animal heads? All the excitement precluded me from having an appetite. So tonight, maybe I would be the perfect Victorian lady.

  “What is Negus?” I whispered, leaning over to Christine.

  “Goodness, do you not drink Negus in California at Christmas?”

  “No.”

  She nodded and held her glass for George ~1 to fill. “It is a mulled wine, mixed with the flavors of Christmas—cinnamon, clove, and nutmeg. Then it is mulled before the fire.”

  “Oh,” I said, comparing it to the Glühwein. I shrugged while watching the Georges serve our first course. Pelham lifted his glass of Negus in toast and we all followed suit.

  “To another year of success. To the people I love most. To the future joy of both Balfour and Miss Wilkins. Cheers!”

  “Prost!” Christine announced and took a sip of her mulled wine, glancing at me to see what I thought of it. I swallowed and couldn’t say it was half bad—definitely Christmassy. I nodded my approval and she seemed satisfied.

  Our secon
d course consisted of roast goose and bratwürste with sauerkraut. I picked at the food on my plate but had no desire to eat anything. And this time, it had nothing to do with my suffocating corset. I was reeling inside with new emotions I couldn’t control. This might prove to be the toughest thing I’d ever have to do—pry myself from the man I loved to return to my own time. Even though I felt sure Rand would survive our separation, it didn’t soothe my anxiety. The Rand of my own time wouldn’t know he’d been bonded to me. And furthermore, when he did find out, how would he react?

  The Georges appeared again, removing our plates from the table only to return with an assortment of what appeared to be desserts.

  “For your third course: plum pudding, Bird’s custard, Furmity, and mince pies,” one of them announced. I’d grown tired of trying to decide which George was which, preferring to just refer to them as the two Georges.

  “And the Bratäpfel, George?” Christine asked.

  “Coming momentarily, Miss Pelham.”

  Before I even had the chance to ask, Christine leaned into me and explained: “It is a baked apple stuffed with marzipan, nuts, and red current jam.”

  “Sounds wonderful,” I said with a fake smile. I was too preoccupied by the fact that this might be the last time I ever saw Christine, Pelham (alive), and my Rand again.

  “I do love a good pud,” Pelham announced and encouraged one of the Georges to add a bit more of the Christmas pudding to his plate, something which looked like a dark brown circular block with a few raisins and currants trying to escape. The sprig of holly at the top did nothing to make the pudding appear any more appetizing.

  After everyone enjoyed the holiday desserts, with the exception of me, our plates were cleared again and Christine clapped her hands together excitedly.

  “Shall I retrieve the Christmas crackers?” she asked.

  Pelham nodded and she hurried to the Christmas tree, her skirts swooshing this way and that. She returned with a box from which she handed each of us a wrapped cylindrical little gift, maybe twelve inches long. Each cracker was adorned by a small paper crafted Christmas tree. I watched Pelham and Rand hold the cracker between each of their hands and copied them.