Haddock’s sister Fiona and her husband were the first to arrive at the castle, their five young children in tow. Fiona was still very young-looking, possessing her characteristic babyface and the Haddock family nose and sharing the dark brown hair of her father. The typically quiet halls of the sprawling manor were now punctuated by violent screams of delight as Fiona’s children ran about, playing amongst the old suits of armor and leaving toys strewn in their wake. A tightlipped Evans was always two steps behind, cleaning up after the lot. Two days later came Haddock’s brother Monroe with his wife. Monroe had a plain charm that Grant had teased him mercilessly about when younger, made apparent by his mother’s mousy hair and a weaker facial structure than the patriarch of the family. Monroe’s expectant wife Anna fussed over Fiona’s children like they were her own while Fiona took the chance to relax while someone else watched after her rowdy offspring. Grant and Ainslay came right on each others’ heels, the dark-haired, hooded-eyed Ainslay hauling along her hypochondriac husband Felix and their six children. Haddock took guardianship of Ainslay’s brood while Felix retreated to his room to hide from the contagions floating around in the air, and Ainslay complained to her mother about her ridiculous situation. It was partially her own fault, Haddock thought. Mr. and Mrs. Haddock had wanted Ainslay to marry a well-to-do, if not very attractive fellow lycanthrope, while the girl, being young and foolish, eloped with the then charming Felix. While traveling around Europe on their honeymoon, Felix had contracted some sort of illness that kept him bedridden for nearly a year and subsequently transformed him into an extreme hypochondriac afterwards. The man that Ainslay was supposed to marry had wedded himself to a pretty girl a month after the elopement and was said to have been living at an estate ten times larger than the Haddocks.
Although Haddock was glad for
Fiona and Monroe’s company, he could have done without Ainslay and Grant. Especially Grant. Haddock and Grant had never gotten along as
children, and the years had done nothing to smooth away their friction towards
each other as adults. Soon after
Florence broke off the courtship with Haddock, Grant began to pursue her for
himself. Haddock still hadn’t forgiven
his brother for that inconsiderate action.
Grant’s relationship with Florence hadn’t gone anywhere serious, but
Grant didn’t seem to care in the least.
He was known to be something of a dallier when it came to women, and the
family did their best to make sure that the Haddock Matriarch didn’t catch wind
of Grant’s romantic exploits lest she have a heart attack…or disown her son. Grant was handsome enough with a wild look
about him. His light brown hair was
usually tousled, and he kept an eyepatch over his right eye, which he had lost
while serving in His Majesty’s army.
When Mrs. Haddock told the family about Isolde, Grant had given Haddock a
teasing look that would have been accompanied by a pestering remark if Mrs.
Haddock hadn’t been quick to mention that the young lady was “very pretty.” At this piece of information, Grant
immediately perked up, pressing his mother for more about “the lovely Miss
Marlowe.” Haddock had to leave the room
to avoid slapping his brother upside the head.
He retreated to the library and found that a medley of Fiona and
Ainslay’s children had stumbled into his one place of solitude. They looked up from their play in front of
the fire with wide eyes, an assortment of blocks and tin soldiers strewn about
the rug. Haddock smiled down at them
reassuringly. The children grinned back
and resumed smashing the soldiers against each other, talking in not quite
whispered tones. Striding over to his
chair, Haddock picked up the book he was reading, sat down and opened it at the
bookmark. The children at play turned
out to be more interesting than the book as they bounced around the room with
the toy soldiers and horses, trotting them on book spines and tea tables while narrating
their actions to each other. His memory
slid back to the afternoon spent with the Marlowes and their house overflowing
with children. Isolde’s embarrassment towards
her family had been amusing to Haddock at the time…now he was sure he would be
equally uncomfortable once she was introduced to his own siblings. Grant’s booming laughter echoed up from the
first floor sitting room, wiping Haddock’s smile away from his face. He would have to figure out a way to keep
Grant from being a forceful flirt. Locking him up in the toolshed is out of the
question…that only worked when we were nine anyways…
He spent the remainder of the evening supervising the children in the
library while racking his brain for ways to innocently keep Grant and Isolde
separated.
*
Christmas
morning saw the grounds of the Haddock castle covered in a fresh layer of
sparkling snow, long icicles hanging off of the protruding stone sills and
archways and frozen patches of ice just waiting for unsuspecting pedestrians to
slip on them. The halls of the castle
were noisier than ever as everyone hurried about getting ready for the church
service. The children were all
double-checked by the women to make sure that any evidence of the large
breakfast had been washed away from their faces and hands, and that every
article of clothing was in place.
Three carriages were used to convey the Haddocks to the church. Haddock was stuck in the carriage with his
mother and Grant, the latter continually remarking how excited he was to meet
Miss Marlowe, his eye sliding over towards Haddock to catch his reaction. Haddock made sure to keep his expression
positively neutral.
Reverend Mulligan was just as surprised to see the entire Haddock family
show up for service as everyone else in the congregation. Grant and Ainslay led the large procession to
the front benches the family had occupied in the past while conversations
petered out and eyes tracked the family crowding in and taking their
seats. Haddock insisted on carrying Mrs.
Haddock in rather than letting a footman do so and sat next to her while Grant
sat directly behind him.
“Is Miss Marlowe here, Malcolm?
Just nod your head in the direction if you’re too put off by all the
attention to point her out.”
Haddock had seen Isolde amidst the multitude of faces but chose not to
say anything.
“Be quiet, Grant. The service is
starting,” Haddock snapped back. Grant
leaned back with a grunt and Reverend Mulligan cleared his throat and commenced
with his message.
*
When the
sermon was over, the congregants filed out of the church to return home and
enjoy the rest of their Christmas day with friends and family. Mrs. Haddock and her collection of thick
blankets in arms, Haddock was momentarily lost in the sea of bodies mingling
out in the cool winter air when he felt a presence unusually close behind him.
“Hello, Mr. Haddock,” Isolde said.
Haddock
tried to turn but was impeded by a tight cluster of chattering women who he
would surely hit with his mother if he followed through. Instead, he twisted his head as far to the
side as he could. Mrs. Haddock saw
Isolde at the same time.
“Ohhh! Miss Marlowe!
How are you doing, My Dear? How
is that poor aunt of yours? Better I
hope?”
“I’m well, and my aunt is doing
much better, thank you, Mrs. Haddock. I
appreciate your concern.”
Mrs. Haddock pinched her son’s arm under the blankets.
“Say
‘hello’, Malcolm,” she whispered. “Don’t
be rude!”
“Miss Marlowe. You’ll still be able to make it to the ball
tonight, won’t you?”
“Of
course! I wouldn’t dare miss a ball
thrown by Mrs. Haddock,” Isolde replied with a twinkle in her eye. Mrs. Haddock beamed. Haddock saw Grant’s eyepatch bobbing around
in the crowd and quickly shielded Isolde from his brother’s gaze.
“We should probably be going,”
Mrs. Haddock said, tapping a thin finger to her chin. “There’s still so much to
do before the guests arrive. It was
wonderful seeing you, Miss Marlowe! I’ll
be sending a carriage to pick you up at four thirty; you are welcome to stay as
long as you like! Ta!”
Haddock had been inching towards
the awaiting conveyances as Mrs. Haddock bid adieu to her young friend. Her last exclamation rang out like a shrill
gunshot as she yelled over the voices of the rest of the congregants. Isolde waved before turning to rejoin her
family. Grant helped carry their mother
into the carriage, and then gave Haddock a significant one-eyed look when the
carriage lurched forward.
“Who were you talking to, Mother?”
he inquired, still keeping his gaze on Haddock, an obnoxious half-smile on his face.
“Oh! That was Miss Marlowe! The young lady I’ve been telling you
about! I suppose I should have had you come
over to introduce yourself, but you’ll be making your acquaintances tonight
anyways.”
Grant raised his eyebrows, still
looking at Haddock.
“Really? You never told me she was on the guest list.”
“You never asked, Silly!”
Grant leaned
back in his seat, looking up at the carriage ceiling with a broad smile. Haddock chose to stare out the window. Mrs. Haddock’s eyes flashed from one son to
the other, her lips pursing.
“You two better behave
tonight. I don’t need you lobbing
pudding at each other again.”
“Mother, we
were twelve when that happened,” Haddock pointed out. Grant rolled his eye.
“And she’ll never let us forget,”
he grumbled. Mrs. Haddock squinted at
Grant.
“I don’t
know what you just said, young man, but I can tell it was cynical. Just behave.”
“Yes, Mother,” the two sons said moodily.
*
Most of Mrs.
Haddock’s guests were as old and hard of hearing as she was. She had made sure to include some of their
grown offspring, most of which were married individuals, and relatives that were
only able to make it to the Haddock castle on special occasions. Carriages were arriving every hour, and the
halls of the castle were filling with loud, enthusiastic, happy voices. Haddock was the first member of the family to
greet anyone who entered, an excited jolt hammering in his chest whenever the
door opened, then mellowing out when the footman announced yet another relative
or old friend of the family. He kept
wandering in the hall to quickly check the clock, becoming even more jittery as
four thirty came and went. Fiona plied
him to join the festivities, bringing him small hors d’oeuvres wrapped in
napkins and telling him how much he was missing out on.
“In a little while,” Haddock said
distractedly. So far, he had given her
four “in a little whiles,” and Fiona was growing impatient.
“You’re missing all the fun!” she protested
after Haddock put off joining her again.
“I just want
to make sure the new guests feel welcome,” Haddock responded.
“You could make them feel even
more welcome if you actually mingled with them,” Fiona shot back. “What are you
so anxious about anyways, Malcolm?”
“What do you mean?”
Fiona
flicked the end of his cravat.
“Don’t act thick with me,
Malcolm. I’m your sister, and I know
that look. Who is she?”
“Um…”
The castle door was flung open by
the two attendants, sending in a furl of chilly evening air.
“Miss Isolde
Marlowe,” the footman announced. Haddock’s
heart crawled up into his throat, preventing any words from coming out as Isolde
walked across the threshold in the vibrant red dress she had worn upon their
first encounter. Beads of pearls were
woven through her hair, glinting in the candlelight. A servant materialized from out of nowhere
and took Isolde’s coat and wrap, spiriting the items away to the
cloakroom. Seconds later, she was
standing before Haddock, who still hadn’t found a way to talk around the lump
in his throat. Fiona’s eyes flicked from
one to the other.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss
Marlowe. I’m Fiona, Malcolm’s sister,”
she said smilingly. Isolde gave her a
little bow.
“It’s nice to make your acquaintance. I’ve so been looking forward to meeting the
rest of the Haddock family.”
Haddock emerged from his funk after Fiona prodded him in the back.
“Miss
Marlowe,” he said, and his voice sounded oddly strangled. “Would you care to
join the rest of the party?”
“I’d be delighted, Mr. Haddock.”
She slipped
her arm through his and they headed towards the ballroom. As the sounds of mirth and a very large gathering
of people drew closer, Haddock leaned over to Isolde and whispered:
“I was beginning to think you
wouldn’t be able to make it.”
“Don’t be
silly,” Isolde whispered back. “I wouldn’t miss this for the world—a Christmas
ball with lycanthropes!”
No comments:
Post a Comment