Chapter Seventeen
“No ! No, no, no, and NO!”
“Hold still, this won’t take long.”
“No!”
“Ginny!”
“NO!”
Bitty huffed and grabbed her sister’s legs, pinning them to the floor. “Stop fussing! This is too much, even for you.”
“You’re not the one getting your hair chopped!” Ginny shrieked, despite the fact that Bitty had her legs, Freddie had her arms, and Rosie had strands of hair in hand.
“Is this really worth it, Rosie?” Freddie asked as he grunted with the exertion of holding Ginny down.
Rosie sat back on her heels, looking at her sister, and sighed. “Maybe not.”
Ginny stopped struggling and looked at her with a frown. “It’s not?”
Rosie shrugged. “I don’t want to force you to do this anymore. I thought it would be easier. I thought it would mean a lot to our brothers to have rings with our hair braided into it to remind them that we are always here, and for Marianne and Susannah to have lockets with our hair inside to do the same.” She sighed and looked away. “But if you don’t want to, Ginny, I won’t force you. I’ll just have to think of something else to give them.”
Freddie gave her a bewildered look, but was also smiling just a little.
Bitty was trying her best to not smile, staring down at Ginny.
Ginny was not even close to smiling. She watched Rosie for a long moment, then sighed, shoving at Freddie. “Get off, Freddie.”
He released her, holding his hands up, and sat back.
Ginny sat up, and held her hand out for the shears.
Holding her breath, Rosie gave them to her.
For a moment, Ginny did nothing. Then she picked up a particularly thick lock of hair over her left shoulder, and snipped it off.
“Ginny!” Bitty gasped, staring at the dark curl in her sister’s lap.
It was a decent chunk of hair, and Rosie stared at it as well, then looked where it had come from.
The difference was noticeable.
But there was nothing to do now except laugh, and suddenly Rosie burst out laughing. Freddie and Bitty joined in, and Ginny just grinned at them all.
“Is that enough?” Ginny asked them. “I can cut more.”
“No!” they all cried at once, still laughing.
Ginny picked up the curl and shook it. “I think it will make some lovely jewelry, don’t you?”
Bitty nodded, still in hysterics. “Give the shears to me, Ginny.”
Ginny did so, and Bitty took a smaller lock of her hair, then carefully snipped part of it off.
“There,” she said with a small smile, turning to Rosie. “You have your locks of hair. Is it enough?”
Rosie shrugged, grinning at her sisters. “I don’t know yet. I hope so.”
“Go get the jewelry and we’ll see!” Bitty squealed. “Where’s your hair? I’ll start braiding them.”
“Ugh, I don’t know what I did with mine,” Rosie groaned. She grabbed the shears and snipped off some hair. “Here, use this.”
Bitty nodded, scooping the hair up. “Go! Hurry, we have to rehearse, too!”
“Right,” Rosie muttered as she got up and moved to the door. “Rehearse the improvised Christmas theatrical about the Gerrards. Doesn’t seem to require much by way of rehearsing.”
She shook her head to herself and hurried down to her bedroom.
The idea for the locks of hair in jewelry had come from a girl at her school, Evelyn Hayes. She had told Rosie that her brother went off to sea with the Navy and had a ring made with a lock of her hair in it, as she was his only sibling and he had no sweetheart. Evelyn had been very proud of that token, and Rosie had thought the idea a strange one, until she’d thought about it more.
Perhaps it was strange to have hair in a ring or a locket, but it was certainly a way to make things more personal and unique.
Colin and Kit weren’t likely to forget their sisters when they wore their hair on a finger.
Rosie had meant what she’d said to Ginny, she truly had. But she also knew how to play upon Ginny’s emotions and guilt. Perhaps it was not a particularly kind thing to manipulate her sister at Christmas, but if it helped her to create a meaningful gift for their brothers, she wouldn’t mind so very much.
It was entirely possible that their brothers would be taking them to church this evening anyway, or at the very least in the morning, and she could always pray for forgiveness then.
But her guilt at her manipulation wasn’t enough for her to consider that option too carefully.
Rosie rummaged through her trunk for a moment, then found the pieces she needed and grinned.
They would never be expecting this.
She dashed back to the nursery, only to find Mrs. Donovan approaching. “Mrs. Donovan,” Rosie said warily, hiding the jewelry behind her back.
Mrs. Donovan smiled at her. “I’ve brought you some bits of holly and mock presents for your theatrical, Miss Gerrard. And here’s a candle if you wish to act that it’s a Christmas one.”
Rosie looked at the items, then grinned up at her. “They’re perfect, Mrs. Donovan!”
“I thought they might make things more festive. And there will be a smaller log and an evergreen bough in the drawing room for you to use, if you like.” Mrs. Donovan inclined her head towards the nursery. “Are you all still rehearsing in here?”
Rosie nodded. “Yes, they’re in there now.”
The housekeeper turned into the nursery, greeted them all, was dutifully surprised with Rafe and Matthew showed her their block towers, and then she was gone again, leaving them to their own devices.
It was a potentially dangerous thing, that, but she supposed Mrs. Donovan was used to it.
She would have to be, with this family.
Rosie sat down on the floor next to Bitty. “How is it coming?”
Bitty shrugged a shoulder. “It’s a bit harder to braid when it’s not attached to anything. I got a piece of ribbon to twist in it and tie the ends, and I think it’s helping.”
It certainly looked as though it would work, but Ginny, in her attempt to help as well, had managed to mangle her strands so badly that they would not be of any use to them. Rosie doubted a brush could have untangled them.
She sent a panicked look at Freddie, who was looking as though he might be slightly ill.
“Ginny,” Rosie said carefully, “would you mind getting the boys and Livvy into costume? And perhaps explain what we are doing? You have such a way with them, and it would make everything go much smoother.”
That seemed to please Ginny immensely and she nodded, setting aside the hair to do just as Rosie had asked.
Rosie groaned when she was gone and picked up the hair. “I don’t know if any of this is salvageable.”
“It’s not,” Freddie said at once. “And you’d never know whose hair is whose even if you could get it undone.”
“What do you mean?” Rosie asked him, looking from the hair to him and back again.
“Seriously?”
She rolled her eyes and set the mess of hair aside, picking up pieces from the three different locks of hair to start braiding them. “Yes, seriously.”
“The three of you have almost exactly the same shade of hair,” Freddie pointed out as if that should be painfully obvious.
“Almost,” Rosie pointed out.
Freddie snorted softly. “Look at Bitty’s braid and tell me which strand belongs to which sister.”
Rosie looked, and try as she might, she couldn’t do it. They really were too similar in color, texture, and curl to differentiate.
“You could have just cut your own hair and used it, and no one would have known the difference.”
She scowled at him. “Except Bitty and Ginny. They would have known I hadn’t cut their hair.”
“True,” Freddie allowed. He made a face at the braiding and shook his head. “Do me a favor. Don’t make me any hair encrusted jew
elry.”
“Don’t worry,” Rosie sneered, “you weren’t getting any. Go help Ginny with the little ones and prepare for the theatrical.”
“Gladly,” he crowed with relief, moving to the other side of the room and booming, “Who wants to put on a costume?”
Bitty and Rosie worked quickly and quietly side by side, and soon they had four small braids to twine into the jewelry.
The question was how to do it.
“How is this supposed to go?” Bitty asked, picking up a locket. “Do I just… put it inside?”
This was the part of the process that Rosie had neglected to ask Evelyn about. She hadn’t even had time to ask her anything about it, as she had not decided to take it on until they had already been home from school. It was a miracle she’d had enough time to get jewelry that might have worked at all, considering the circumstances.
“Yes,” she told Bitty with pretend confidence. “Just open the locket and put the hair in.”
Bitty held up the locket and the hair side by side. “I don’t think it will fit.”
“Then you made the braid too big.” Rosie handed her the shears. “Just trim it down until it fits.”
Her sister looked doubtful, but started to try it anyway.
Rosie’s strands were smaller, so she started to thread it into one of the rings.
It was not as simple as one might have thought, and certainly not as simple as she had thought it would be. How complicated could wrapping hair around the center of a ring be? And yet she sat here, desperately trying to thread a braided bunch of hair into a very small circle, and having absolutely no luck doing it.
“Rosie,” Bitty said slowly, her voice hesitant.
Rosie huffed and looked over at her. “What?”
Bitty winced and held up what remained of the hair in her hands.
It was an absolute mess.
“I need more hair,” Bitty admitted in an almost whimper.
Rosie grunted, took the shears, and snipped off another lock of her hair. “Ginny! Come over here, we need more hair.”
It was destined to be a disaster, but there was nothing they could do about it now.
What was done was done.
And the presents were set.
Sort of.
She was fairly certain that Evelyn’s brother’s ring hadn’t looked anything like what Colin and Kit’s did, especially for a hardworking man in the Navy. The hair would get in the way of so many tasks.
But for gentlemen like Colin and Kit, it should be just fine.
“I hope they love them, Rosie,” Bitty said with utmost sincerity, leaning her head against Rosie’s shoulder.
Rosie slowly released a breath and rubbed her sister’s shoulder. “I hope so, too, Bitty.”
She really hoped so.
But there was just no telling with her brothers, and she was out of time.
“Well, should we join the others for rehearsal?” Rosie asked Bitty as she shoved the jewelry into her pocket.
Bitty snickered and looked behind them, where Rafe and Mathew, dressed in their bandit costumes, chased Freddie, Ginny, and Livvy, all dressed in partial costumes themselves. “I think rehearsals are well underway.”
Rosie sighed at the sight, shaking her head. “A Gerrard family Christmas, I said. I don’t think it gets more Gerrard than this.”
They looked at each other, then got up and went to try and find some semblance of order with their theatrical company.
“Children!” Colin bellowed up to them. “Come down here!”
Rosie groaned. “Not more madness.”
“Ha!” Freddie laughed, thumping her on the back once. “In this house? You should know better.”
That, at least, was true.
“So much for rehearsing,” Rosie sighed to Bitty.
Bitty shrugged. “No matter. You said we were going to improvise anyway. We might as well be true to that.”
“Not as though we have any other choice at this point.” Rosie turned to her young nephews. “All right, boys, take those costumes off.”
They protested just as loudly and wildly as anyone might have expected two-year-old Gerrard boys to.
“We’re going to put them back on in just a bit,” she assured them as the older ones set to helping them. “But don’t you want to surprise your papas?”
That caught their attention. “Surprise!” Rafe cried.
“Surprise!” Matthew echoed, grabbing at his costume.
“There’s my good lads,” Ginny cooed as she helped them.
The older ones all looked at Ginny in surprise. She’d never made that sort of noise before, not even when she was that age and played with dolls.
It was oddly unnerving.
But if it would further their efforts…
Livvy, on the other hand, removed her chosen cap and apron without a single complaint, which would make her Rosie’s favorite niece in the world, if the trend continued.
Rosie stuffed all of the costumes in the satchel that they’d found, and hauled everything out into the corridor.
“Hurry!” Colin called again.
Rosie blew a strand of hair out of her face. “He speaks as if we were intentionally being slow. He does recall that there are seven of us up here, and three of us are younger than four years old?”
Bitty giggled at that and started to help carry the bag when she gasped. “Carolers!”
The bag was dropped and she raced for the stairs, everyone else completely forgotten.
Rosie stared after her. “Well, that demonstrates her priorities quite well, I would say.”
“I’ll help you,” Freddie said with a chuckle as he lifted one end. “Ginny, can you manage the boys?”
“Of course,” she replied, already having their hands in hers and leading them down the corridor.
“Of course,” Freddie and Rosie said together with a shared look.
“I can help,” Livvy offered sweetly as she watched Freddie and Rosie.
Freddie smiled at his sister. “Why don’t you guide us down, Livvy?”
She nodded, curls bobbing, and very carefully guided them to the stairs, then all the way down.
They set the bag in the corner of the drawing room, groaning with relief when it was done. It was amazing that something as simple as articles of clothing and props for a theatrical could be so cumbersome. But it was done now, and they could enjoy whatever entertainment her brothers had in store for them.
Rosie dabbed at her brow, then turned to face the others. “Carolers?” she asked expectantly.
Bitty was practically dancing where she stood, her excitement painfully obvious.
Kit winced as he glanced towards Marianne, who looked perfectly at ease in her chair, now holding Daphne in her arms.
Rosie put her hands on her hips. “No carolers, then?”
“Still waiting on them to arrive,” Kit told them, smiling apologetically at Bitty.
Bitty slumped in disappointment. “When are they coming?”
“No swords?” Ginny looked torn between concern and hope.
Marianne snorted very softly, but it made Rosie smile.
Sometimes she really loved this family.
“Not sure, Ginny,” Kit apologized.
Freddie glanced out of the window, where the snow was piling on the ledge. “I wouldn’t count on anybody tonight.”
“They’ll come,” Kit insisted firmly. “They will. They’ve been paid well, and they know they will find warmth and hospitality here.”
“And wassail,” Colin added drily.
Rosie looked between her brothers for a long moment. “So if the entertainment isn’t here, why have you called us all down here? We were in the middle of something rather important.”
“And only something equally as important would prompt us to drag you away,” Colin assured her, rising from his seat.
“Meaning Marianne had finally eviscerated Kit and we were safe to reappear?” Rosie quipped, making Marianne bark a laugh.
Kit, however, scowled.
“Something like that,” Colin told her, smiling a little too proudly. “But we thought we would all play a very fun and traditional game.”
That didn’t sound too difficult.
“We, meaning…?” Rosie prodded.
Colin rolled his eyes. “Very well, I mean me.”
That wasn’t good.
Susannah looked suspicious but resigned.
She probably looked that way quite often.
Rosie would have to pay more attention to that in the future.
“We,” Colin said, moving to a towel covered object on the table in the room, “are going to play… Snapdragon!” He yanked the towel off with a grand flourish.
The younger family members gasped.
But nothing had happened.
Cautiously, Bitty and Ginny moved to the table to investigate. They both frowned, and looked at each other.
“It’s a bowl,” Ginny announced unnecessarily. “And there’s nothing in it.”
Colin held up a finger. “Yet.” He pulled a smaller bowl off of the mantle and showed them all what was inside. “Raisins.” He picked up seven raisins and dropped them into the larger bowl, which was almost more of a basin, as it was so shallow.
Freddie moved closer, and Rosie followed, curious as to what exactly this game would entail.
Colin produced a bottle and again showed it to the family with great drama. “Brandy.” He uncorked it, and poured that on top of the raisins in the basin.
“This is going to be good,” Rosie murmured, making Freddie snicker.
Colin looked at his now rapt audience, grinning in delight. He reached up to the mantle again and picked up a taper, touching it to one of the candles there. He cupped the flame gently, moving it back to the basin. “And now…”
He touched the flame to the brandy and it immediately ignited, making all of them near the table jump unexpectedly.
“Ooh,” Ginny exclaimed, smiling.
Bitty looked confused, but tried for a smile.
“Now,” Colin said, his hands free, “we play the game. The brandy is just covering the raisins, it is not deep at all, and we have to take turns reaching in and grabbing one.”
“Reach into the flaming bowl?” Rosie recited dubiously. “To pluck a raisin out?”
A Gerrard Family Christmas Page 20
