There's No Place Like Rhodes (Book 2)

The Spirit of Christmas

Arthur hated Saint Denis.

That didn't make it special. He didn't like any city. They was all too crowded, too stifling, too...much. But since it were Charlotte who suggested they make the trip, he weren't about to deny her.

She got stuck on the idea of riding a stage coach all the way down and he did argue with her on that. He'd prefer just taking the horses, but Charlotte claimed the purchases she had planned would be too large.

He'd grumbled, "What're you gonna buy that ain't gonna fit in the saddle bags?"

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise."

"I ain't keen on surprises."

She'd eventually whittled him down and got her way and now they were riding in a carriage. Arthur would have pushed with taking their own wagon, but he'd just got back with it and knew the front wheel had started a wobble. The last thing Arthur wanted was them stranded halfway to Saint Denis if the weather turned.

So, they left the wagon at home, dropped off their horses at the small stable in Annesburg for care and were on their way. Charlotte had promised they'd take the train back, but he didn't much like that idea neither. He suffered through the coach ride, on edge the whole time.

In the end, it was worth the trip to see Charlotte's eyes lighting up with excitement at the holiday decorations they spotted upon entering the city. He was relieved for it even. She needed cheering after her folks canceled their plans. It had hit her hard since blood relatives meant something to her, more than she was saying.

Her eyes were practically sparkling at Saint Denis' transformation since their last visit. Snow had fallen here too, significantly less than what they had up at the cabin, but it dusted the rooftops and buildings prettily enough. Wreaths with ribbons decorated the doors of storefronts. Red and white lights wrapped around lamp posts. Saint Denis was ready for Christmas.

"Look what they've done," Charlotte exclaimed as he assisted her out of the carriage. "It's as merry as a postcard."

He chuckled. "You seem excited."

She caught his eye and her expression turned guilty. "I have a confession to make."

"Let me take a wild guess..." He raised a brow. "You like Christmas."

"Yes," she admitted. "I love it."

"Oh, love, is it?" he teased.

"I have so many wonderful memories of Christmas. My mother always made them special in some way. Well, until we were all adults. Then Mama focused on her lavish parties and catered to her distinguished guests."

Out of curiosity, he asked her, "What did one of them parties usually entail?"

She replied offhandedly, "Oh, Mama always went extravagant. Nearly a hundred people always attended. We have a gift exchange within the family and a large feast from trained cooks."

Damn. She'd be missing out on a lot this year. No wonder she'd gotten upset. Shaking off the creeping feelings of inadequacy, he asked her, "So, where to first, milady?"

"Actually, Arthur..." Charlotte stepped in front of him. "This is where we go our separate ways."

He stiffened. "What?"

She laughed. "No need to look so distressed. I'll only need an hour or so."

"Well, why you want to go alone?"

She told him carefully, "There are certain purchases I need to make without your knowledge."

"Right." Arthur got her meaning. She was picking out something for him. As to what, he had no idea. He relaxed, only to frown again at what she was saying. "I don't think it's safe for you to go off on your own, Charlotte."