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“I suppose really it is a good thing she’s back,” Lizzie sighed. “It’s not as though I have time to be cooking and cleaning after Frank and Jack.”

Benedict frowned. “There was no question of that.”

“Besides, they still love each other,” Lizzie said breezily. “I do hope Ma is doing alright at her sister’s.” He made no response to this. “And even Daphne. At the coast.” His breathing was deep and even by this point, and she wondered if he was drifting off to sleep.

“I think Betsy has her eye on Frederick Mountford,” she confided. “Though it may come to nothing if his aunt has lost all her money.” She rested her chin against his chest, and Benedict murmured something noncommittal. “Are you falling asleep?” she asked.

“Say something interesting if you want a response,” he retorted.

She tweaked his chest hair and he smirked, though he did not open his eyes. “Maybe I’ll commission a plaster statue of you, if you are to have a portrait of me,” she mused. “Naked of course, in the Greek style.”

Benedict’s eyes snapped open. They held a distinctive gleam. “Would that be with or without a fig leaf?”

Epilogue

Eight months later, Winchester Street, London

It was Christmas Eve at Winchester Street. Evergreens and ribbons hung from every picture frame and bannister. Lizzie was sat her writing desk, scribbling furiously at the list of parlor games she was devising for the Napps who were coming to Christmas dinner the next day as their guests of honor. Sebastian lay on his side along the handsome hearthrug in his new red leather collar.

Yes, she had thought of something for everyone, she thought, casting a quick glance down the list, from the youngest of the Napps, to the oldest of the apprentices. She had forgotten no one in the quantity of crackers, whistles, and paper hats she had accumulated over the past week. She and Molly had added so many silver charms to the Christmas pudding that she was now starting to worry they might constitute a choking hazard.

She drew back her chair and rang the little bell for Molly, their maid of all work who appeared in the doorway. “Oh, Molly,” she said, getting to her feet. “Will you help me to hang these paper streamers in the dining room. I thought if we did them now, then it would be less things for us to remember in the morning.”

Sebastian cast a look over his shoulder at them, yawned, and then closed his eyes again, choosing the comfort of the hearth over duty. He did not feel the need to follow his mistress’s every move these days.

Molly nodded brightly. “Yes, Mrs. Toomes,” she agreed. “And then you and the master can enjoy them tonight when you takes your Christmas Eve supper in there together.”

“Oh, what a nice idea,” Lizzie murmured, not mentioning the Christmas Eve Benedict had outlined he wanted in recompense for his house being overrun with Napps the following day. It had involved a cold supper, eaten picnic style in the intimacy of their bedroom. Besides, Molly would never know as she had a half day holiday and would be spending the evening at her mother’s.

Unknown by anyone else, Lizzie had another reason she did not want to be balancing precariously on chairs just now. She thought of the present she had wrapped for Benedict only that morning. An intricate, hand-knitted baby’s blanket in the softest white wool which she had made in secrecy on the smallest knitting needles she could buy. She was simply bursting to tell him her news but had saved it for an extra special surprise for their first Christmas together.

“Did you finish that milk jelly for Eliza?” Lizzie asked, thinking suddenly of the youngest Napp. “That is her particular favorite.”

“Oh yes, Mrs. Toomes,” Eliza assured her. “And the blancmange.”

“Excellent.”

“I got all the ingredients you wanted for that bowl of smoking bishop you wanted for the old lady too.”

“Mrs. Napp will be pleased,” Lizzie smiled. “You remember everything, Molly.”

Lizzie checked her reflection in the gilt framed hallway mirror as they passed through, admiring her pretty gown of soft pink. She thought it lent her skin a rosy color that flattered her complexion. She patted the arrangement of her hair dressed in matching ribbon and lace. Benedict still preferred it down, but she was starting to feel more comfortable wearing ornamentation these days. At her ears, she wore the amethyst and gold teardrops her husband had bought her for her birthday.

She was very much looking forward to their day of celebrations on the morrow, but she was also looking forward to her own private celebrations that evening with just her Benedict. She gestured to a central point on the ceiling where she wanted the streamers affixed, and Molly obligingly stood on a chair. Lizzie was just passing up the first of the streamers when she heard a tap on the window and whirled around to see Benedict beckoning to her from outside.

Her heart gave a leap at the sight of him, as always. He was wearing a new tailored suit today which showed off his athletic build to perfection. Other than a light graze above his right cheekbone, a leftover from his last fight three weeks ago, he looked the very image of respectable affluence today. Though, perhaps his shoulders were rather broad for a true gentleman of leisure.

“Sorry, Molly,” she apologized, setting the streamers on the table. “We’ll have to finish this later. I won’t be long.” She hurried back out into the hall and carried through to the kitchen and then out of the back door.

Her husband was lurking there, with a suspicious gleam in his eye. “You were rather long at the barbers,” she commented. “Though they made a good job.” She liked it when they left it long enough to show the curl. “I’m glad you did not go back to that man in Wendover Street. He hacked it off far too short last time.”

“I have something to show you, wife,” he said leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips. As she drew back, she noticed he was holding a sprig of mistletoe over her head.

“Is it the mistletoe?” she laughed. “We’ve a great bunch of it suspended in the parlor. I was hoping Jack might come after supper tomorrow and dance with Mrs. Napps’ apprentices. The poor girls could use some excitement in their lives.”

“He can dance with Miss Lucinda Napp,” Benedict answered with feeling. “Then I shan’t have to.”

Lizzie laughed. “Her mother told me that Cindy’s now courting a baker’s apprentice. A very steady young man called Herbert, so you will soon be replaced in her affections.”