Chords that Bind Ch. 17

Dear Readers,

You are a patient bunch and I'm ever so happy to be able to deliver this Christmas special to you... just in time for the New Year. Please continue to be your forgiving selves and remember that there are twelve days of Christmas. It's also a rather long chapter. Due to my desire to have this submitted before the end of the year, I haven't had the chance to put it through my usual editing process, so in addition to suspending your disbelief, I'll ask you to suspend your inner English teacher. I hope you enjoy this next installment. I tried to deliver a sufficient amount of story, romance, and steamy bits, but I'm sure you'll let me know if I bit off more than I can chew. As always, I appreciate your comments, votes, and feedback.

Here's to 2018!

Xoxo

PoeticLicense91

***

Chapter 17: Carol

***

It was a cozy winter's morning. Cecilia was still fast asleep when James rolled quietly out of bed. He was somewhat reluctant to get up. With the comfort of his bed warmed by Cecilia, it was tempting to lie in all day, but he couldn't. It was the first week of December, and he wanted to get the house ready for Christmas.

He pulled on a dressing gown and ventured downstairs. As he cracked eggs and fried bacon, he planned out the day in his head. Clara came down, surprised to see James up and about so early.

"Everything okay, James?"

"Oh yes, I just thought we'd do some of the Christmas decorating today, get a tree and all that. You don't have rehearsal today, right?"

"No, I'm free." She smiled. "We've been getting the Nutcracker ready for awhile now, and I'll be performing every weekend straight through 'til Christmas. If we don't do it today, I might not be able to help. And I don't think Abe has anything pressing . . . "

"That settles it then." He tipped the scrambled eggs onto some plates. "I'll wake up Cecilia, if you get Abe."

***

"Clara, would you pull out some of the Christmas records?" James asked as he climbed down from the storage loft carrying a large box.

"Yes, James!" she ran to grab the music, excited that James was entering into the Christmas spirit. He'd been dour in years past and hadn't really joined in any decorating or festive activities. Abe took the box from James and started down the stairs. James returned up to the crawl space and came back with a smaller box and handed it to Cecilia.

"I think you can manage this, but mind, it's rather delicate."

"Yes Sir," Cecilia replied solemnly, taking the box. "What is it?"

"A set of crystal icicles. We'll use them on the tree later."

"We're getting a tree?"

James looked at her with a confused smile. "Yes. Why wouldn't we?"

"I-I-I don't know, I just didn't realize..." When James said over breakfast that he was thinking of breaking out some Christmas decorations it caught Cecilia off guard. Without Thanksgiving to usher in the season, December took her by surprise.

James sighed. "I know. We didn't do much celebrating last year."

That was an understatement. James tried to ignore Christmas entirely last year. He hadn't felt festive in the aftermath of rescuing Cecilia, and for her part, Cecilia spent a great deal of time recovering and healing. "I'm rather excited for you to see how well we do Christmas. Don't think me silly, but I love getting ready for it."

"It's been awhile since we did it properly." Abe walked in and joined their conversation. "It's good to brush the dust off these things. Are you planning on decorating the foyer this year James?"

"I thought so. Any reason why not?"

"None that I can tell. I think we still need to bring those boxes back down then."

"Right, let me check. Cecilia, will you take that to the den? I think the rest of these boxes might be a bit unwieldy. See if Clara's got anything she wants to tackle. I thought we could see about a tree after lunch."

"Yes Sir."

Cecilia carried the glass ornaments to the den and when she entered the kitchen she saw Clara pouring over cookbooks and marking them with sticky notes.

"Is there anything we can tackle together before lunchtime? James said he wanted to get a tree after."

"Hmmm... If that's the case, the biscuits will have to wait. I found some of the CDs. Why don't you pop one in and then we can just take a look at which recipes we want to make. I'm certain we'll need to pick up more butter and probably some of the more unique items."

Cecilia didn't recognize the CDs Clara handed her, so she chose one at random. The sound of trumpets and brass instruments blared out of the system. She turned it down to an appropriate volume and turned to the task of flagging some recipes she thought would be fun to try. Soon though, it was time to prepare for lunch, and she and Clara set to work making some bacon sandwiches.

"Mmm! That smells good, if not very Christmas-y," Abe said walking into the kitchen.

"It'll smell Christmas-y when we have a ten-foot Christmas tree in the house," Clara replied. "And Cecilia and I were going to bake some biscuits too."

"Oh, brill!" James said entering the room and helping himself to a sandwich. Cecilia marveled at how casual and comfortable they had all become. It eased her ever-present anxiety to see such warm friendship. "I'm looking forward to that. It'll give us time to untangle all the lights."

After eating their lunch and clearing up a bit, Clara and Cecilia went to pull on some warm clothes. In the foyer, Cecilia stopped short. There were so many boxes stacked around the staircase it was hard to pick her way through. "Are all of these Christmas decorations?"

"Oh yes. But we haven't used this many in some time." Clara looked delighted. "It's so good that you're here. You don't know how much happier James is now. This is a great sign."

"He makes me happy too."

"Come on, we're going to Pines and Needles. It's outdoors, so you'll want boots as well."

"I'm coming." Cecilia followed behind eagerly, feeling as if Christmas were coming early.

***

A few hours later, Abe and James had a ten-foot Nordmann fir standing proudly in the living room. The four of them spent an inordinate amount of time choosing an acceptable tree. James kept insisting the twelve-foot trees were ten-foot, and Clara kept reminding him that the ceilings weren't going to accommodate such a specimen. Cecilia kept finding gaps in the foliage, and Abe didn't like weak branches. It was comical really, how much thought they put into it, but in the end they all agreed on a gorgeous tree.

Clara also chose some evergreen garlands and a fresh boxwood wreath. Cecilia had a list of ingredients to supplement the pantry for their baking, and as James and Abe completed the tree installation, Clara and Cecilia had the first biscuits baking in the oven.

Abe and James smiled as Cecilia walked in, taking in the size of the tree and unable to keep a look of joy off her face. "We're still untangling these lights," Abe said.

"Can I help?"

"Sure. Just don't get tangled yourself. I swear these lights have a mind of their own," Abe grumbled.

"I wouldn't mind if she got tied up in them," James countered Abe, watching his submissive turn bright red.

Cecilia shivered. "I don't want to be in the way." She didn't know how they 'usually' did Christmas things and didn't want to step on toes.

"You won't be. Start on that end. We'll see if there are two or three strands knotted up."

It turned out there were four different strands in the holiday-themed Gordian knot, but eventually all the lights were neatly coiled and ready to be strung.

Having the whole day for the four of them to literally deck the halls was a treat. The aroma of shortbread cookies wafted towards them, heralding Clara's arrival with the buttery treats. "Go on then, you know you want some."

***

It wasn't until after dinner that they finished trimming the tree. Cecilia's past experiences with decorating Christmas trees usually involved tense, passive-aggressive comments from family members while they hung tacky ornaments higgledy-piggledy. That left her ill-prepared for what could only be described as an art project.

There was a whole box that held silk flowers: glittery roses, shimmering orchids, velveteen poinsettias, gleaming berries in all sorts of colors, and a few stray pheasant feathers were crammed together. "What are these for Clara?"

"Oh! James, are we doing these this year?" Clara asked. It looked as if James was pulling out all the stops.

James looked over. "I thought we could, unless you don't like them. What do you think Cecilia?"

"Where do they go?

"In the tree! We used to use these to fill in the branches."

Cecilia picked up some stems. "Like this?"

Clara handed her one more piece, and the arrangement popped with color, taking on a life of its own. "Exactly. Then use these twisty-ties to fix it to the branch."

It turned out Cecilia had quite a knack for making the arrangements. She and Clara made several bouquets as Abe and James wrapped the tree in red and white lights.

Everyone seemed to be anticipating the next phase and Cecilia couldn't believe how much attention to detail was going into this. Her family would have finished this annual exercise long ago, and they'd yet to hang a single ornament. True, her family wouldn't be enjoying cranberry champagne cocktails or Clara's homemade cookies while they did this. And they certainly wouldn't break into two or even three part harmony singing along with the music.

"What is this music?" Cecilia asked, "It's beautiful."

It could only be described as angelic. Voices rang clearly, singing carols Cecilia had never heard before.

"That's King's. And it is beautiful." James agreed.

"What's Kings?" Cecilia asked.

"A college at Cambridge. Has the best choir in the world, if you ask me."

"And that's saying something, coming from an Oxford bloke," Abe rejoined.

"I wasn't going to school for music. I was going for law," came James's dry retort.

"Don't mind me then. After all, only one of us bothered finishing. What do I know?"

"Quite a bit if you ask me. Not everyone serves in her majesty's marines." Clara chided.

"Clara, you've got to be the only Irish girl in the country to be proud of that," James teased.

"I know." She said it with a saucy smile. "That's why I have to dance for England too. Can't go back now that I've been fraternizing with the enemy!"

The two men erupted in uproarious laughter at that.

James opened another plastic tub and started pulling out bright red boxes. "Everyone, go on and pick one." Cecilia didn't know what they were choosing.

James saw her hanging back, and selected a box with a smile. "Are you alright?"

"Oh yes. It's just . . . this is so different."

"Did we forget something? Are you homesick?" James worried that the holidays would make her change her mind about being with him and living with them in London.

"No. Not at all," she said quickly. "I like this so much better. But I didn't know it could be like this."

"Like what?"

"Just so lovely and calm. No one's fighting, and you three all take such care. Thanks for including me."

"Cecilia, I haven't been able to do this in a long time. You've inspired me. Here," he pressed one of the heavy boxes into her hands, "this is one of my favorites." Cecilia looked down at the red box trimmed in embossed gold. Through the window of the lid, she could see cut crystal. She could tell with the reverence everyone had that these were special. Opening it carefully, she saw the white ribbon and faceted crystal of an angel cut into glass: a Christmas ornament.

"Oh, it's beautiful. Don't you want to hang it up?"

He shook his head. "I might lend you a hand if you decide she needs a high perch."

She looked puzzled for a second and James took advantage of her hesitation to bend and wrap his arms just below her knees.

Cecilia clutched the crystal angel in her fingers, afraid to drop it. Somewhere below her James suggested, "Pick a strong branch."

Cecilia laughed and picked the highest branch she could reach, nearly at the top of the tree thanks to James's lift. He set her down on her feet after finding a home for the angel. He didn't let her go though. He gave her a deep kiss, enjoying her laughter and the feel of her in his arms.

"I'm so excited to share this Christmas with you," he whispered in her ear.

"Me too," she said quietly.

Even after the training session they'd had, and learning about James's expectations, Cecilia often harbored doubts.

He seems to want me to be familiar and relaxed with him, but I'm still unsure.

That was when her mother's voice decided to be helpful:

After all you two have done together, you think you get to have a normal relationship? It won't ever be normal. Not when you're such a slut. Isn't that what he wanted from you? That's why he likes you, you know. He's not a real gentleman at all. He's a bigoted opportunist. He'll get bored with you, now that you've given him everything of value.

Stop!—Cecilia cut that voice off, but the seeds of doubt were there. Her thoughts swirled around, trying to rebuff her mother's voice.

When he touches me, I know. I know he wants me. It's in his whole being. He doesn't hold back anything. When we're intimate, he shows no compunction about claiming me. If he doesn't do that in our day-to-day, doesn't stand on ceremony, or make demands, it's because he doesn't want to. Sure, I once thought he wanted more than what we have now . . . but, maybe he's waiting until after he's done retraining me. He said I had lots of things to 'unlearn' . . . Maybe . . .

"Cecilia. Cecilia?" James caught her daydreaming, "Go on and pick another one."

James pulled away to choose another box, giving careful examination to where Clara and Abe had hung their ornaments. That was when Cecilia understood that all the red boxes were crystal.

"These are special, aren't they?" she said raising her voice slightly.

"My Uncle Clive started this collection. I've been adding to it since he passed."

Slowly, stars and snowflakes, more angels, emblems, and musical symbols all cut from lead crystal appeared to drip off the tree. Cecilia understood that there was a method to this project. Sure enough, Clara said, "Now the ribbons and baubles."

After that came a spangled array of icicles. Throughout the evening, the Choir of King's College, Cambridge continued to sing Christmas carols. As that album finished, the first strains of Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker played. "No, James! We can't play that."

"What's wrong, Clara?" Cecilia asked.

"Because that's all I'm hearing at work! Please, we have to change it. I can't listen to that right now."

Abe raised an eyebrow at his wife's outburst.

"I'm sorry. But I've practically got the whole suite memorized."

"I'll change it Clara. I forgot about that." James walked to the sound system to change the music. His mobile rang from inside his pocket. He checked the ID and quickly excused himself.

"What part are you dancing Clara?" Cecilia asked. The Nutcracker was the one ballet with which she was vaguely familiar.

"Coffee. I imagine Abe will enjoy this one quite a bit, especially once he sees my costume."

"Oh, will I?" Abe asked, approaching Clara, stalking her as he avoided all the boxes of decorations.

"I think so, Sir. But you can be the judge and give me your verdict." Clara darted quickly out of his reach.

Abe folded his arms. "I'll hold you to that then, my little ballerina." He laughed, and found he was looking forward to seeing Clara's costume.

***

Somehow, Cecilia managed to make a turtleneck sweater seem like one of the sexiest items of clothing possible. At least, that's what James thought as Cecilia ran down the stairs. The cream merino sweater was a perfect contrast to the pleated red-tartan skirt that ended a few inches above her knees, leading down to smart leather riding boots. She wore a red beret to match; the Anglo-Scottish look was spoiled only by the fact that her curls were chestnut instead of ginger.

"Looking properly Christmas-y, Cecilia," Abe said.

"Is it not formal enough?" she worried.

"It's perfect," James assured her. "Besides, there's not time to change. The show starts soon, and it's a family-friendly showing anyway."

The three were taking the weekend before Christmas to see an afternoon showing of the Nutcracker to show their support to Clara, who had been dancing nonstop all month.

Abe always worried about Clara's health during Nutcracker season. The entire company took the shows in turns and there were understudies and second castings of all the demanding roles because the Nutcracker was the most popular show of the year. But, that still meant they were performing four times more than usual, and at that rate, even the healthiest of dancers were apt to injure themselves.

Clara put a brave face on it, but Abe could tell the production was taking it out of his wife. He knew it was her passion, but sometimes when he looked at her feet, he wondered how it could be worth it. Clara had been lucky with relatively few injuries, but he'd heard enough horror stories about stress fractures and torn ligaments. It was one of the reasons he was so careful with her in their scenes together. He'd be happy when Nutcracker season was over, and Clara could take some much-needed rest.

Cecilia was starting to feel more comfortable at these grand venues. Today, she was helped by the fact that the Royal Opera House was swarming with children and families.

"I understand that the Nutcracker practically finances the ballet, but I always wish that it would spur more interest in the arts," James lamented as they waited for Abe to retrieve their tickets from Will-Call.

"What do you mean?" Cecilia asked.

"Well, all these families from the suburbs will come into London for the day, do a bit of shopping and then come see the Nutcracker, right?"

"Sure."

"And they'll see the best dancers in the world and hear Tchaikovsky—maybe for the first time or maybe for the tenth time—because it's a family tradition."

"Okay. That's good isn't it?"

"And most will never hear anything else by Tchaikovsky, or know who Balanchine is, and they'll forget all of this is here until next year when they come to do their family Christmas outing in London."

"Oh."

"Don't mind Scrooge over here Cecilia, he's just jealous that there isn't a Christmas piano concerto for him to play that's enormously popular," Abe cut in.

"No, I'm not. I see Clara dancing herself ragged. I'm glad I'm not in demand for Christmas."

"You could be if you wanted to. Do a re-harmonization of some obscure Christmas fugue?"

Cecilia laughed. James looked vexed. Abe was just throwing musical terms together now. "Or maybe major and minor counterpuntal variations on carols?"

Abe was being so ridiculous that James couldn't even pretend to be annoyed and laughed heartily.

The three had fairly unremarkable seats. Even with Clara's comp tickets, the crush of families attending the matinee meant that they had to settle for tiered seats.

"I know you've said it's the most popular ballet, but I've never seen it before," Cecilia said to James as they angled themselves to slip past people already seated in their row.

"I won't make a secret of the fact that music comes first for me. Tchaikovsky, Prokofiev, and Stravinsky wrote my favorite ballets. Abe was right to ignore my grousing. I think you'll like it."

They reached their seats finally, and Cecilia ventured to ask, "So, if there was only one thing for you to find under our beautiful Christmas tree this year, what would it be?"