Silent Night: A Lady Julia Christmas Novella

Brisbane, ever courteous where ladies were concerned, took one while I breathed out a small sigh that the moment had been got past. Father and Brisbane had quarrelled dreadfully during our last investigation, largely over my safety, and hard words had been spoken. I had hoped they had been forgot, but Father apparently still nursed a grudge, as evidenced by his pointed remarks towards my husband. I could not entirely blame him. I had suffered considerable injuries at the conclusion of the case—through my own rash actions, to be sure—and Father and Brisbane had almost taken each other apart in their worry and despair. I smiled brightly from one to the other, but Father had lapsed into his chair, glowering, while Brisbane merely sat, graceful and lethal as a panther as he regarded Father with his inscrutable, witch-black eyes. I sighed. It was going to be a very long holiday indeed.

“I think I should do something to cheer Father up,” I told Brisbane later that evening as we prepared for bed.

Brisbane said nothing, but I heard the thud as a boot hit the floor.

“Aunt Hermia believes he is feeling a trifle downcast that so many of the family shan’t be here. Most of the children are keeping Christmas at home and only coming for the revels. It will be Plum and Portia and us for Christmas,” I said. “Benedick will come up from the Home Farm with his family, but that still makes only half of us.” The other boot hit the floor and I went on. “I thought of asking a special guest, someone Father would really enjoy seeing.”

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