The Mistletoe Wager

by Christine Merrill

  After a hearty Christmas Eve dinner, Harry gathered the guests in the drawing room for the lighting of the Yule Log. Elise was pleased to see that the trunk of the ash they had chosen the previous year was large enough to fill the fireplace from end to end.

  Rosalind had spent a good portion of the afternoon draping it with garlands of holly and ivy, tied on with red bows, until it was almost too pretty to burn. And she had sighed dramatically as she directed the servants to put it on the grate.

  Harry produced a charred piece of last year’s log and doused it liberally with brandy before thrusting it into the embers and watching it flare to life.

  The crowd gave an appreciative ‘Ahh’ and several people stepped closer to offer toasts.

  When Harry felt ceremony had been properly served, he touched the old log to the new and held it until the decorations upon the new log caught. Then he threw his torch into the fireplace.

  ‘There you are, my friends. The Yule Log. May it burn long and joyfully. If you have any regrets of the previous year, now is your chance to throw them upon the fire and start anew.’ He looked significantly at Elise as he reached into a basket of kindling and tossed a handful of pine needles upon the fire, watching them flare.

  Elise stared at the basket of needles, and at the crowd around them. Did he mean her to do penance, in front of all these people? But what good would it do to stand in front of the guests and wordlessly declare herself a failure as a wife? Even if she could prove herself sorry for her indiscretion with Nicholas, there was so much she could not change. Without a miracle, next year was likely to be as barren as this had been.

  When she did nothing, he gave a moment’s thought and added a second handful of needles to the fire. Then he smiled, changing easily back into the jovial host. ‘Come, everybody-wassail and mince pies.’ He made a few steps in the direction of the refreshment table, until he was sure that the guests were well on their way, then turned back to face Elise on the opposite side of the fire.

  ‘Elise. A word, please, in the study.’ Harry beckoned to her to follow him and left the drawing room, walking down the corridor and away from the crowd. His smile was as pleasant as it had always been, with none of the rancour it had held that morning. But his tone was that of a husband who took it for granted that a command would be obeyed.

  It rankled her to see him falling right back into the pattern of the last five years. Even though she no longer lived with him, he was acting as though there was nothing strange between them, and ordering her from room to room while pretending that she was free as a bird and could do as she liked.

  She hesitated. If she wished to come home, then she must learn not to fight him over little things. But if he did not want her back, then what was the point of obeying? At last she sighed, and nodded, and followed him to the study, letting him shut the door behind her.

  He turned and faced her, and he must have seen the anger growing in her-and the shame. For a moment he seemed at a loss for words. He held his hands out in front of him and opened his mouth. Then closed it again, and put his hands behind his back, pensive. At last he said, ‘I notice that you did not throw anything onto the fire tonight. Am I to take it that you have no regrets?’

  ‘Of course I have regrets,’ she said. ‘But do you think a handful of burned pine needles and dead silence is a sufficient apology?’

  He shrugged. ‘Sometimes, when one does not know what to say, it is better to keep silent.’

  ‘But not always.’ She looked earnestly at him. ‘It is possible, when one cares deeply about another person, to forgive harsh words said in the heat of the moment.’

  He frowned and stared at the ground. ‘But not always.’ He dipped a hand in to his pocket, removing a jewellery box. ‘I have your Christmas gift.’ He offered it to her.

  ‘Harry…’ And now she was at a loss for words, but her mind was crying, Tell me you didn’t. Their marriage was in a shambles, and he meant to gloss it all over with another necklace. At last she said, ‘This is not necessary.’

  He gave her another empty smile. ‘Gifts rarely are. It defeats the point, when one has ample means but denies necessities to someone all year, to mete them out at Christmas, pretending that they are gifts. That is miserliness in the guise of generosity.’

  She pushed the box back to him. ‘I mean that it was not necessary for you to buy me a present. I do not wish it.’

  ‘How do you know? You do not know what is inside.’ He held it out to her again.

  ‘It is not the contents of the box that concern me. I do not wish another gift from you, Harry.’

  For a moment she thought she saw pain in his eyes, before he hid it in sarcasm. ‘And yet you have no trouble with my paying for your apartment or settling your bills? You take things from me every day, Elise.’

  He was deliberately misunderstanding her, so she struck back at him. ‘If it bothers you so, then set me free. Then I would not take another thing from you, Harry.’

  He nodded. ‘Because you prefer Tremaine, now that he can afford to buy you the things you need?’

  ‘His inheritance has nothing to do with my leaving you.’

  ‘It was merely a fortunate coincidence that six months after his uncle died you went to London to be with him? You barely allowed him enough time to mourn before you returned to his side.’

  She started in surprise. It had not occurred to her when she had left how that might look to the casual observer. Or, worse yet, to her husband. ‘If you think I left you because of Tremaine, then you do not understand the problem at all.’

  ‘I understand the problem well enough. I have a wife who prefers the company of another.’

  ‘If you wish to see it that way then there is little I can do to change your mind,’ she snapped. ‘But in truth you have a wife who left because she was tired of being held at a distance. I can understand, Harry, if you are not happy with me. Or if you do not wish to take me into your confidence. But if you do not want me, must you blame me for seeking companionship elsewhere?’

  ‘I do not want you?’ He laughed. ‘You do not want me, more like. Has Tremaine shown you the letter? I assume that is why you are both here? So that he can win his bet and you can gloat over it.’

  ‘That letter was foolishness itself. Do you think our marriage is some kind of joke? And it was most cruel of you to make me a part of it. I did not think you capable of such base behaviour.’

  His eyes held the hooded look they had sometimes, and he looked away from her briefly before saying, ‘You would be surprised what I am capable of when it comes to you, Elise. But my cruel trick succeeded in making you angry enough to return home for Christmas.’

  She moaned in exasperation. ‘Really, Harry. If all you wanted was a visit at Christmas, then you had but to come to London and ask me.’

  He thrust the jewel box back into his pocket and glared into the fire. ‘And the answer would have been no. Or you would have insisted that we discuss a divorce.’

  It surprised her to see him looking so sullen. And without intending it, her tone became softer. ‘At least we would have been talking again, and the matter of our future could have been decided one way or another. But you felt the need to trick me into doing what you wished instead of asking me outright, and taking the risk that my answer might not be to your liking.’ She stared at him, willing him to understand. ‘If you do not see the wrong in that, then perhaps you will never understand why I am unhappy with you.’

  He grabbed a poker and jabbed at the logs in the grate. ‘I understand you well enough to know that you were eager to come back to me for an argument. But I do not think you returned home to climb the hill with me at dawn and watch the sun rise, as you did this morning.’

  She swallowed for a moment as the memory of that simple pleasure returned to her. ‘You are right. And thank you for that. There is much we need to talk about, Harry. But it has been a long time since we have done something just for pleasure’s sake. It felt good to put our differe
nces aside for a few moments.’ She hesitated. ‘I enjoyed it very much.’

  He set the poker aside, wiped his hands on a handkerchief, and then patted the box in his pocket, smiling. ‘Then you will enjoy this as well.’

  A lump of bitterness formed in her throat at the thought of the jewel box again. ‘I brought nothing for you in exchange, you know.’

  His voice dropped low. ‘There is only one thing I want from you.’ He stepped towards her and reached out, taking her hand in his. ‘That is for you to return home to me, and for things to go back to the way they were.’

  ‘I would not want to return to what we had, Harry,’ she said, surprised that he had not seemed to notice the emptiness they’d shared. ‘You cannot continue to pretend that nothing was wrong any more than you can buy my co-operation with jewellery.’

  He shook his head in amazement, as though he really did not see a problem. ‘I am not attempting to buy you, Elise. I should not need to. We are married, after all. You have been mine for five years.’

  His words shocked her back to anger. ‘So I am already bought and paid for? Is that the way you see me?’

  ‘What a daft idea. I never said so,’ he answered.

  ‘Perhaps because you speak so rarely.’

  ‘Then I will speak now, if you are willing to listen,’ he said, and smiled. But for a moment, before the affability returned to his face, she saw frustration underneath. ‘I did not mean that I had bought you. I meant that I should not have to buy you now. Do you expect me to outdo Tremaine in some way, to win you back? I had hoped that when we married your choice was fixed. But now I am not so sure.’

  She threw her hands into the air. ‘I have been gone from your house for two months, Harry. And your best response, after all this time, is that you are “not so sure” I am gone.’

  He scoffed. ‘You did not expect me to take this division between us seriously, did you? It would serve you right if I went ahead with the divorce you seek and left you to marry Tremaine. But I have forgiven you for it. Now, let us put aside this silly quarrel. I will give you your Christmas present, and we can return to the main room and explain to Tremaine that his presence is no longer required.’

  He offered the box to her again, and she knocked it from his hand onto the floor. ‘It does not matter to me, Harry, if you have “forgiven” me for leaving. For if you think so little of me, and take our marriage for granted in such a way, how can I ever forgive you?’ And with that she stormed from the room.

  In the drawing room, Rosalind grabbed Nick by the arm, almost jostling the cup of wassail from his hand.

  ‘Dear God, woman,’ he drawled. ‘Can I not enjoy a moment’s peace?’

  ‘The guests are getting restless. We must start the games soon. Harry has gone off somewhere.’ Her eyes darted to the open doorway. ‘And Elise appears to be in a state and is headed for her room. Stop her!’ She gave him a shove towards the open door that spilled even more of his punch. ‘I will find my brother.’

  Nick stumbled out into the hall and hurried to catch up with Elise. ‘Darling, where are you headed at such an alarming pace? The night is young, and I long for your company.’

  She turned on him with a glare, and responded in a torrent of unintelligible German.

  He grinned. ‘I gather you have been talking to your husband?’

  ‘That man. If I spend one more moment in his company I swear I shall go mad.’

  He gestured to the drawing room. ‘Then spend a moment with me. I have brought you a cup of wassail.’ He held his cup out to her.

  She took it, and stared down at it. ‘This cup is empty, Nicholas.’

  He slipped an arm around her waist, guiding her back to the party. ‘Perhaps it is only waiting to be filled. Optimism, Elise. We need optimism at times like this. Twelfth Night will be here soon enough, and then we shall go back to London and I will help you to forget all about this.’ He gave her waist a little squeeze.

  She blinked, as though just remembering what she had promised him. ‘That will be wonderful, Nicholas. I can hardly wait.’ But she said it with a sickly smile that proved she had not been living for the moment they would become one. ‘I believe I might need a cup of punch after all.’

  ‘I thought you might.’ He shepherded her to the refreshments and she downed a cup of wassail, hardly stopping for breath. It was not flattering to see that the thought of intimacy with him required so much fortification. Alcohol could not help but make Harry more appealing to her, so he reached for the ladle and helped her to a second cup.

  ‘I have found another who is willing to play,’ Rosalind announced from the doorway. She was ignoring Harry’s lack of enthusiasm as she hauled him back into the room by his elbow. ‘The more people we have, the more fun it shall be.’

  As they passed, Harry stared at Nick’s hand, which was still resting on his wife’s waist while he plied her with liquor. Harry shot him a look of undisguised loathing before turning to his sister. ‘Yes, Rosalind. I think we should all like a diversion.’

  ‘And what exactly is this game we are all so eager to play?’ Nick asked dryly.

  ‘Blind Man’s Bluff,’ Rosalind said. ‘And, Harry, as host you must go first.’

  Nick thought to remind her that it was rarely polite to put guests last, but he could see the stubborn glint in Rosalind’s eye and elected not to challenge her.

  ‘I will blindfold you, and you must identify your guests.’ She was tying a handkerchief around Harry’s face, and spinning him so that he lost all direction.

  Guests who were not interested in playing moved to the corners of the room. Elise looked to the exit with longing, and then to Harry, as though trying to decide between the two.

  But Rosalind hurried to close the door, and put her back to it, making the decision for her. ‘Quiet, everyone, let Harry try to find you.’

  Nick swore silently, and nudged Elise towards the centre of the room and into the game. With Rosalind blocking the door, his escape was thwarted as well. If Harry’s eyes were covered, there was little he could do to affect the man. It would have been an excellent opportunity to get away. He shot Rosalind a murderous look.

  She shrugged and cocked her head towards the other players, as though telling him to pay attention to the game.

  While Nick was distracted by her, Harry lumbered past him, on his blind side, and stamped mercilessly on his toe. ‘Eh-what was that.’ He stumbled, turned back as though to find Tremaine, and then veered left at the last minute, catching another guest by the shoulders. ‘Let me see.’ He patted at the man, placing his hands on an ample stomach. ‘Cammerville. I do not need eyes to tell it is you.’

  The gentleman laughed and sat down.

  ‘That’s one down.’ Harry swung his arm out wide through the open air and laid hands on a young lady, reaching carefully to touch her hair. ‘And the younger of the Misses Gilroy, I believe. For there are your pretty curls.’ Then he marched purposefully towards Elise, who took a deep breath and froze like a rabbit, waiting to be caught.

  Nick hoped that the game they were really playing would be over once Harry had caught his wife. Elise looked more resigned than happy to be playing, but at least she was no longer as angry as she had been in the hall. But Harry stopped at the last moment and turned, moving across the room again, away from his wife.

  Elise put her hands on her hips and glared at his back in disgust.

  On his way to wherever he thought he was going, Harry managed to catch himself on a small table and tip it, sending a carafe of wine cascading down the leg of Nick’s best buff trousers.

  He stifled an oath and mopped at the stain with his handkerchief.

  Rosalind glared at him, making frantic gestures that he should hold his tongue and keep to the spirit of the game.

  ‘I have upset something,’ announced Harry, grinning without remorse.

  Rosalind reached him from behind and spun him, giving him a forceful shove to send him back towards Elise.

  H
arry lurched again in the direction of his wife, only to catch another woman by the shoulders. ‘And this is the elder Miss Gilroy. For I have danced with you before, and recall you as being most slim and just this tall.’ The girl dissolved into a shower of giggles.

  Elise’s countenance darkened with the clouds of a returning storm. As Harry made another pass through the room, instead of avoiding him she stepped in front of him, so that he could not help but run into her.

  He swung his arms wide again, turned suddenly, and reached high instead of low, catching Tremaine by the throat. ‘What’s this, then? Have I caught the turkey for tomorrow’s dinner?’

  He gave a warning squeeze, and Nick gagged slightly.

  ‘Oh, no. Not a turkey at all. It is Tremaine. I recognise that artfully tied cravat. You’re out of the running, old man. Sit down.’ He released his throat, spun him around and gave a sharp push to his shoulders that sent him stumbling towards the sofa. ‘And stay out of my way.’

  The other people in the room laughed knowingly.

  He turned again, ‘How many is that, then? Almost everyone? But there must be someone left.’ He walked deliberately past his own wife again.

  Elise was getting angrier by the minute, and was now actively trying to be found-repeatedly stepping into his path, only to be avoided as he seized and identified someone else.

  Nick was near enough to Rosalind to hear her fervent whispering. ‘Don’t toy with her, Harry. Do not toy with her. She does not appreciate it.’

  But either Harry did not hear or did not care. He was still pretending that he did not know the location of his wife. He groped in the empty air to the right of her, and when she moved into his path he turned again. It was plain to all there that he was deliberately avoiding her.

  ‘Where is she?’

  Several guests laughed, and a young girl called out, ‘Behind you. Look behind you.’

  At last, Elise could control her temper no longer. ‘If you seriously wish to find her, she will be in her bedroom. With the door locked.’ Elise gave her husband an angry shove, then marched past him and through the drawing room door.