A Partridge in a Pear Tree (2 page)

BOOK: A Partridge in a Pear Tree
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Chapter Two

 

A Partridge in a Pear Tree

 

Despite the fact that supper, a parade of several sumptuous courses, had run quite late, Allison was up early the next morning. She wanted to have breakfast alone, before the exuberant twins were up and about, so that she could think in peace.

And she had a great deal to think about. The past years of her life had been very quiet. She spent her days keeping the cottage in order, looking after her frail mother, trying to give the girls their lessons and keep them from running completely wild. Aside from the occasional village assembly or a card party with their neighbors, there was very little society. There were certainly no attractive young gentlemen to smile at her!

Now, in only a day, her life was turned tip over tail. There were so many people about, family and servants, that she hadn't had a moment alone since she arrived at Kirkwood Manor, and she needed to think about the scavenger hunt game. She had never been especially good at puzzles, but her mother and sisters were counting on her to do well at this one and impress Lady Kirkwood.

The hunt was worrisome, of course, but it did not occupy her thoughts as much as her assigned teammate.

William Bradford was a handsome devil, and a bold one to grin at her as he had last night. She felt so ridiculously flustered around him. Men like him, handsome, sophisticated, flirtatious, were completely out of her limited realm of experience. She hardly knew how to behave around him.

She had managed to avoid speaking to him very much last night, but that couldn't go on much longer. They were meant to be finding the items of the “Twelve Days of Christmas” together, after all.


You are being an absolute widgeon,” Allison muttered to herself as she hurried down the corridor toward the breakfast room. “He is a person, just like everyone else. Not a god.”

A very handsome person, though.

As she rounded the doorway into the dining room, she saw she wasn't the first person to breakfast after all, despite the early hour.

William was already seated at the end of the long table, a heaping plate of eggs, kippers, and toast in front of him. He jumped up when he saw her, that same wide smile on his face. The smile that made her want to giggle like the twins. “Good morning, Miss Gordon.”

“G—good morning, Mr. Bradford.” It was too late to run away now. Perhaps if she said very little, she would not embarrass herself. She slowly sat down in the chair across from his, and asked the footman for just some tea and toast from the sideboard.


I'm very glad to see that you're an early riser,” William said, passing her a jar of marmalade.


Oh, yes?”


It means we will have a head start on the others. I would wager that Sir Reginald and his family never rise before noon!”

Allison had to laugh at the image of Sir Reginald and his perfectly coiffed wife, not to mention their pastry-snatching son, getting up at dawn to do all the things she did at the cottage. Start the porridge, feed the chickens, get the twins up... “I would wager not. But do
you
always rise so early in London, Mr. Bradford?”

His bright smile faded a bit, and he looked away from her. “I no longer live in London, Miss Gordon. I am a country man now.”

She felt herself blushing, and quickly turned her attention to her tea. She remembered now that her mother had once said the Bradfords suffered some reversal in their fortunes, much as the Gordons had. The elder Mr. Bradford had died in some scandalous way, but her mother would not share the details. And it was obviously a subject William didn't care to discuss.

Allison had thought him a Town gentleman, with his fashionable haircut and well-tailored clothes. But perhaps he needed to win the scavenger hunt just as much as she did.

Somehow that thought made her less nervous around him. She smiled at him, and said, “Then we must plan our strategy, Mr. Bradford. Today is the first day, so we have to find a partridge in a pear tree. I must confess I am at a complete loss as to where we might find such a thing. It is not the season for pears.”

William ate the last of his eggs, and pushed the plat away. “I had thought we might go hunting, Miss Gordon.”

Allison blinked at him in surprise. “Hunting? You mean for an actual partridge?”

He shrugged. “Perhaps. Or for whatever else we might come across. Unless you have a better idea?”

“No ideas at all, I fear. I shall just go get the twins ready, then, and we can be off. I am sure they will love getting out in the fresh air.” Allison studied him over the edge of her teacup. “Perhaps your sister would also care to join us? Jane and Kitty would love to get to know her better.”

The veiled look came back into William's lovely blue eyes, and he shook his head. “Gertrude is rather shy of strangers. Perhaps it would be better if she stayed here with her governess today.”

“Oh.” Allison remembered how quiet and withdrawn the girl had been the night before, and how little she had eaten at supper. Her heart ached in sympathy. Something bad must have happened indeed to the Bradfords.

She did wish Gertrude would come with them. Kitty and Jane could cheer anyone up. But it was none of her business really, so she just said, “Maybe some other time, then.”

William gave her a sad smile. “Yes, of course. Some other time.”

**

“Allie, look at this!” Jane cried, climbing up on a fence post to look out over a field, brown for the winter and covered with a layer of snow.

They were standing about on the road into the village, waiting for William, who had ventured into the woods with his gun. It felt as if they had been waiting for a long while, and Allison's feet were getting chilled in their flimsy half boots.

She stamped them a bit, and crossed the frosty road to where Jane was perched. “What is it? Do you see Mr. Bradford coming back?”


Not yet. It's a pond! See? And people are skating on it.”

Jane pointed, and Allison saw that there was indeed a pond in the distance, with colorful figures gliding back and forth like dancers. The faint sounds of laughter and the “Wassail Song” floated to them on the clear, cold breeze.

Allison smiled at the sight. She hadn't gone skating in longer than she could remember, but she recalled the delicious sensations of it, floating free, flying...

She closed her eyes and imagined being among the happy skating party, zipping about on the ice on the arm of a strong, handsome gentleman. A gentleman much like William Bradford.

The misty daydream was dissipated when Jane said, “Can we go skating with them, Allie?”

Allison's eyes opened, and, despite the chill in the air, her cheeks felt uncomfortably warm. No doubt they were now as unattractively red as her hair.

She pulled the black velvet collar of her pelisse closer about her throat, and said, “We don't even know whose pond that is, Jane, and we don't have time to skate today.”

Kitty, who had rejoined them with her arms full of sweet-scented pine boughs, said, “Can we skate some time before we leave, then?”

Allison nodded. This party was all about the twins having fun, after all. And what could be more fun than skating? “Perhaps, if we can find skates.”


Wonderful!” Jane sighed. “But we won't be leaving here for a long time, will we? There must be time for lots more fun.”


Oh, no!” said Kitty. “We still have all the twelve days of Christmas.”

All the twelve days of Christmas.
It sounded so short when at the end of it they would have to go back to their quiet cottage, and scraping to make ends meet. But they did still have twelve days, and Allison wanted them to be wonderful for the girls. Maybe even for herself?


Speaking of the twelve days of Christmas,” she said, “we have heard nothing from Mr. Bradford for quite a while. Do you suppose he has found a partridge in a pear tree?”


Maybe we should go look for him?” Kitty suggested.


He said to wait here, didn't he?” Jane said.


Pooh! Wait around and miss all the fun? I think we should go find him.”


I think we should wait!” Jane insisted.

Their argument was cut short when William emerged from the woods alongside the road. The game bag he held looked suspiciously flat.

“Mr. Bradford!” the twins called, running toward him.

Allison followed them at a more sedate pace, though she longed to run, too. “I take it there were no partridges to be had?”

William grimaced. “Not a bird of any sort, I'm afraid. They must have all heard of Lady Kirkwood's game. I don't know where else to look for our partridge in a pear tree.”

Allison gave him a commiserating smile. “Me, either. I fear I have little imagination for things like this.”

“Let's go into the village,” Jane suggested. “They are sure to have some kind of bird there.”


And hair ribbons?” Kitty added, tugging at her own, which were, as usual, untied.

Allison thought of the pitifully few coins in her reticule. “I don't think we really need new hair ribbons today, girls.”

“Don't worry, Allie!” Kitty called as the two of them skipped ahead. “Lady Kirkwood gave each of us half a crown.”


She said we were to spend it on something pretty and useless,” added Jane. “Like ribbons and sweets!”

**

It was Jane who saw the pears first, glistening golden in the shop window, nestled in a bed of straw.


Look at this, Allie, Mr. Bradford!” she called.


What is it, Jane?” Allison said, crossing the street with Kitty in tow and William trailing behind in his blue greatcoat. “More skaters?”


Of course not! It's pears.”


Pears?” Allison and William echoed. They looked at each other.


Do you think this is a sign of some sort?” William asked.

Allison slowly shook her head. “Where would they get pears in December?”

“They aren't real pears, silly,” Kitty said, carefully examining the window display. “They are marzipan pears.”

**

“You want what?” the woman in the confectioner's shop said, her eyes wide in a most disbelieving manner.


A marzipan partridge,” Allison said. “Just like this lovely fruit you have created.”

William held up the pears they had collected from the window with a charming smile that made the woman blink.

“We need a marzipan tree, too,” Kitty piped up.


A marzipan pear tree,” Jane clarified.


I only have this.” The woman ducked behind the counter, and came up with a bluebird, fashioned of marzipan paste and sprinkled with sparkling sugar.


Partridges aren't blue,” Kitty said doubtfully.


Well, this is all I have. We sold everything else for Christmas,” the woman said shortly. It would take more of William's smiles to soften her up, obviously. “You can take it or leave it.”

Allison looked up at William. “What do you think?” she whispered.

“I think we had better take it,” he whispered back, leaning so close to her that his warm, mint-scented breath stirred the loose curls at her temple. It made her shiver.


A bluebird in a pear tree?” Allison said, trying her hardest to ignore the delicious sensations this invoked.


At least we have the pears. And my sister has a paint box. Perhaps she could make the bird slightly less—blue.”


I suppose you are right. I don't have any better ideas, and at least then we will be done with the first day of Christmas.”


And on to the second! I don't suppose this shop would have any turtledoves?”


I fear I am not even entirely sure what a turtledove is,” Allison answered with a sigh.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

Two Turtle Doves

 

The walk back to Kirkwood Manor was much more lighthearted than the walk away had been. William had been saved from hunting, which he secretly loathed doing, and now he could just enjoy Allison's companionship.

The two girls hurried ahead of them, munching on the sugared almonds they had bought as a treat. Their red cloaks darted in and out of the frozen greenery, bright flashes against the snow. Their laughter echoed and resounded.

How different they were from Gertrude, William thought sadly. If she were walking with them, she would stay close by his side, quiet and always, always watching.


Your sisters are very energetic,” he said.

Allison laughed, a lovely sound. “Oh, yes! And you should see them at home. Here they are on their company manners.” She looked up at him with prettily sparkling hazel eyes. “Your own sister is very pretty. I'm sorry she could not join us today.”

“She is rather shy.”


Oh, I see.” They fell silent, the only sound the crunch of their shoes on the frosty road. After a long, comfortable moment, she said, “We did hear of the death of your father. I am very sorry.”

William nodded shortly. He did not like to think of his father, or the terrible thing that had happened. He hated the pitying way people would look at him, and Allison's clear gaze and sweet smile obviously saw too much. She seemed to be looking into his deepest soul, where all the shame and anger were hidden.

At least she did not look pitying.


Thank you for your condolences,” he said.


It must be very hard on your sister,” she answered. “Kitty and Jane were so confused and lost when our own father died...”


Gertrude was the one who found our father's body,” William blurted, without thinking it through. It just seemed as if he could trust Allison Gordon.

She stopped walking, standing perfectly still in the road as she stared at him, wide-eyed. “I—beg your pardon?” Her cheeks were pale under the winter-cold pink.

“Forgive me,” William said, not quite meeting her direct gaze. “I should not have mentioned anything of the sort. It was most indelicate.”

She shook her head. “I live in the country, Mr. Bradford. Delicacy has little place in my life. But do you mean to say that after your father—did away with himself, it was your sister who discovered him?”

“I fear so.”


Oh, that poor, poor girl!” Allison cried. “No wonder she is so quiet.”


She scarcely speaks unless spoken to, and sometimes not even then. I was hoping it would help her to be here, away from our home.” Ir was such a profound relief to speak of it with someone, instead of keeping it pressed down inside. And Allison did not look appalled or shocked. She looked very, very concerned, and sensible. She took his arm and continued walking beside him.


Do you think it would help for the twins to socialize with her? They can be very cheering, but I would not like for her to be frightened by their exuberance.”


It would be worth a try,” William said. “Perhaps we could set them all to constructing our partridge in a pear tree?”

Allison laughed. “That sounds like an excuse to get out of doing it yourself!”

Kitty and Jane came running back to them, their freckled cheeks flushed with excitement. “We have found our turtle doves!” Kitty cried.


On the road, just ahead,” Jane added.


How do you know they are
turtle
doves, and not just plain, ordinary doves?” William asked them teasingly.

The twins looked at each other, and giggled. “Oh, we just know!” said Kitty. “Come and see.”

Kitty and Jane's “turtle doves” proved not to be doves, or indeed any kind of birds at all. They were people, a prosperous-looking young farmer in a sturdy tweed coat and his golden-haired sweetheart, sitting on a fallen long by the side of the road holding hands. They gazed up at each other in a distinctly rapturous manner, and didn't even seem to notice the four people staring at them in astonishment.


Don't they look like two turtle doves?” Jane whispered.


Indeed they do,” Allison answered. “But who are they?”

Kitty gave a loud cough, making the two turtle doves jump and look up at them in confusion. Then they smiled when they saw the twins.

“So you're back, Miss Kitty?” the man said.


Of course we are! This is Mr. Albert Potter, Allie, and his betrothed, Miss Susan Whitney,” said Kitty. “I have told them that if they help us win our scavenger hunt, we will help them organize their wedding. Miss Whitney has her heart set on a very large wedding, you see. She has a great many relatives.”

Allison gave her sisters a stern look. “Oh, you did, did you?”

“Oh, miss, it would be ever so wonderful,” Miss Whitney burst out. “Then me and my Bertie could get married ever so much sooner.”


Of course we would be happy to help you,” William said. “But what if we lose the hunt? We won't be able to help anyone then.”

Bertie shrugged. “We would still have had a lark, wouldn't we? Getting to see the inside of Kirkwood Manor.”

“I've always wanted to see inside that house,” sighed Miss Whitney.


Done, then!” William said, reaching out to shake Bertie's hand. “You may be our turtle doves.”

The twins laughed, and joined hands to dance in a merry circle. “A wedding, a wedding! Hooray!”

“Two done,” Allison said, pulling the list of the scavenger hunt from her reticule and checking “Partridge” and “Doves” off with a little pencil. “Five left...”

**

That night, a supper was planned at Kirkwood Manor, to be followed by the presentation of the first day's objects. It was to begin at eight o'clock sharp, but the setting sun found the Gordons and the Bradfords still hard at work.

They turned the small sitting room next to Allison's chamber into a workshop, with a large table set up down the center and covered with an oilcloth. Allison and William used bits of wood and colored paper to fashion a small tree, while Bertie pasted the whole thing together and Susan tried to dry it by the fire. It had not helped at all that she set the first tree on fire, but the second one looked to be a great success.

Gertrude had been assigned to turn the marzipan bluebird into a partridge, using her paint pots and brushes. At first she had been highly doubtful, shrinking back against her brother and looking at the bird as if it would come alive and bite her. But she quickly became engrossed in her task, her pretty little face scrunched up as she plied her brush over the delicate marzipan body. She didn't even notice the twins any longer, as they sat on either side of her, closely watching her work.

She was very talented, Allison noted, watching as Gertrude's brush turned the blue candy to delicate, pale brown feathers.

“What do you suppose Sir Reginald and his family have found?” William mused, cutting out another leaf.


Whatever it is, it cannot be as fine as this,” Allison said, adding the finishing touches to the bark. “I hope.”


Certainly it won't!” Kitty said stoutly. “They could never have such a lovely partridge. Gertrude has made it look quite real.”

Gertrude gave a shy smile.

“And no one could be better turtle doves than Bertie and Susan,” Jane said. “You must just remember to hold hands and coo.”

Bertie grinned. “Oh, we can assuredly do that! Can't we, Sue?”

Susan giggled, waving the newly pasted branch perilously close to the fire.

Allison silently prayed that all would go well with this presentation. It was far too late to search out new partridges and doves now.

**


All right, everyone!” Lady Kirkwood announced in the drawing room after supper, banging her cane on the floor to bring everyone closer to her chair. “It is time for you to show me what you have found on your hunt. Reginald, you will go first.”

Sir Reginald and his family obviously had not had as successful a day as Allison and William. His dome of a forehead glistened as he nervously dabbed at it with his lace-edged handkerchief. Letitia, sumptuously attired in cranberry-colored velvet with a matching turban, sat on a settee with her arms folded, not looking at her husband. The tall white plumes in her turban quivered.

Their son Edward was nodding sleepily over a glass of port, not his first of the evening, also not looking at his father. Miss Bates was completely absorbed in a box of candy on her lap.

Allison felt a jolt of fresh hope for their makeshift offerings. She looked up at William, who stood close to her chair, and exchanged smile with him.

Reginald walked over to where a small, covered object sat in the corner. “After traveling far and wide, Aunt Harriet, we have found you the finest partridge in a pear tree,” he announced importantly.

Letitia gave a loud sniff.

Reginald ignored his wife, and pulled away the cloth with a flourish.

Inside a small gilt cage was a bright yellow parakeet, perched precariously on a pile of evergreen boughs vaguely shaped like a tree. It looked out at them with bewildered little eyes, and gave a tentative peep.

There was a moment of stunned silence in the room, then Gertrude burst out, “That is not a partridge at all! That is a parakeet.”

She turned as cherry-red as the sash on her white dress, and slapped her hand over her mouth.

“You are quite right, Miss Bradford,” Lady Kirkwood said, her cheeks wrinkling even further in a gleeful smile. “I believe that
is
a parakeet, Reginald, not a partridge at all. What is more, it came from my own conservatory.”


I told you so, Reginald!” Letitia hissed.

Kitty looked indignant as she watched the bird balance on its boughs. “He obviously hates it in there,” she muttered. Before anyone realized what she was about, she ran across the room and flung open the door to the cage.

The parakeet, delighted at this new development, spread his small yellow wings and soared off across the drawing room. He swooped over the fireplace mantel, sending a Chinese vase crashing to the floor, before plucking at Letitia's plumes. One came free, and he flew away triumphantly with it in his beak.

Letitia shrieked and screamed, clutching at her ruined coiffure while her son snickered into his port and her husband tried in vain to comfort her. Miss Bates hastily stuffed three pieces of candy into her mouth, as if she feared the bird would escape with them.

Finally, William went and opened the drawing room door, and the bird flew off in the direction of his conservatory home, the plume in his mouth as a prize.

Allison was too surprised to do anything but stand there. She knew she ought to scold Kitty most severely, but all she wanted to do was laugh.

Just as Lady Kirkwood was doing. The old lady leaned back in her chair, laughing so hard she gasped, her cane flailing in the air. “Oh, my! Well, after that little performance, I am most eager to see what you have to display, Miss Gordon and Mr. Bradford. I hope it is not quite as—active.”

Their display! Allison closed her eyes in dismay. She had forgotten all about it in the excitement. Now everyone looked at them in expectation, Reginald smirking as if he was sure that whatever they had would surpass his in humiliation.

“Of course, Lady Kirkwood,” William said. “We are most pleased to present our discoveries to you. But I fear we have gotten a bit ahead of ourselves. We have both a partridge in a pear tree and two turtle doves.”

He gave Allison a reassuring smile, and beneath his calm charm she felt her pounding heart slow down. Her hands ceased their trembling. Everything would be well, she thought. It had to be, with him.

She nodded to Gertrude and the twins, who went into the foyer and came back bearing the tray where their partridge in a pear tree was set up. They carefully placed the tray on a table in front of Lady Kirkwood, and curtsied prettily.

The marzipan “partridge” gleamed in the firelight. Gertrude had done a superlative job, making each feather look soft and real. Even the hastily dried tree was intact.

The only thing amiss was that the little parakeet now nestled in the paper leaves along with the partridge, happily nibbling on a sugared pear.


Er, a partridge and a parakeet in a pear tree,” William said, his voice thick with laughter.

**

“I thought that went quite well,” Allison said later as William escorted her up the staircase. The twins ran ahead, trailed by a still-shy Gertrude. “Lady Kirkwood seemed to like our partridge
and
our turtle doves. Even though Reginald said Bertie and Susan should not count, since they are people and not doves.” She was still rather disgruntled about that. Did the man have not a particle of imagination?


But Lady Kirkwood accepted them, and that is all that matters,” William said comfortingly. “Reginald is just jealous because their stolen parakeet was such a disaster.”

BOOK: A Partridge in a Pear Tree
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