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He sighed, and reached for my cup of tea. “This is hardly Christmas cheer, my dear. I shall fetch you some claret.”
“My lord—”
He turned, and lifted an eyebrow.
“You must learn to endure it. As I have learned to endure Madam’s death,” I said softly.
“I shall, Jane. I shall — as the hangman submits to his calling; with revulsion, and anxiety, until the grave is filled. It is a dreadful presumption to serve in judgement on one’s fellow men. It is to play a little at God — and though I have been accused of such a score of times before, I only now admit to approaching it.”
“When justice is done, you may sleep in peace.”
“Yes.” He hesitated. “And until then, I believe I shall go away for a time.”
I knew better than to enquire his direction.
THE HOUR OF MIDNIGHT STRUCK; LADY DESDEMONA THREW wide the drawing-room casements, and looked down into the street below. “Look, Grandmère! The Waits are come!” Her glowing face turned affectionately to Lord Kinsfell. “How happy I am, dear Ki
The Dowager cried out to Jenkins to conduct the Waits hither; and they very soon assembled before the drawing-room fire, cheeks flushed and eyes bright with cold. They were a rag-tag group of common folk, dressed for warmth rather than style, some of them no more than children — but the sound of their singing, when once they commenced, had the power to lift the heart. The very soul of Old England, rife with Yule logs and roasting mutton, good fellowship and love. I thought of A
God rest ye merry, gentlemen, let nothing ye dismay …
I lifted my voice, and sang aloud with the rest.