Page 67 of A Christmas Temptation for the Duke
Alison laughed at the joke, and Daniel continued to do as he had been doing all day: scowling with menace.
“Keep at it!” Mrs. Hollingberry then said with cheer as she danced away. “The day is young and there are mouths to feed.”
“Will do!” Alison cried after her, keeping at stirring the batter. It was not an easy thing to do, she had to admit, and her arm was already sore. But she was enjoying herself, more than she thought she could do when baking, and she wasn’t about to stop now.
The day was unlike anything that Alison expected.
In her mind, it was set to be a simple affair. She assumed that mostly it would be helping to hang wreaths and decorate trees. That she would do little more than stand about and direct where things went.
What she found instead was more akin to a fair than anything else.
The town square of Whitehaven was flush with its citizens and bursting with cheer. Christmas was but a few days away, and most were there not to help decorate but to partake in the festivities of which there were many.
The children were playing games. The hired band sang loudly. There was a maypole at the very center, and later there was sure to be a dance around its gait.. Wreaths and banners were indeed being hung. But mostly, stalls were what spread around the large square, and nearly all of these were dedicated to cooking… and then eating what was cooked.
What was more, it was all free!
This was not Alison’s first time, of course, and when her family were here, they often provided food and gifts for the townspeople, even if they did not always join in. And while she did not ask Daniel specifically, she assumed that those years he had been here, he might have done the same.
I wonder if he and his sisters ever joined in? Somehow, I sense that Daniel might not have been the type to do such a thing.
In this instance, most of the food was half paid for by the town, and the other half provided by its citizens. Some of the stalls held spiced fruits. Many had sweetmeats and snacks of the Christmas variety, ready to be eaten. But even more were set up so that baked goods could be prepared, then baked, and later eaten once the sun began to set.
And even more interesting than that, those who wished it were allowed to help with the preparation.
Alison was not much of a cook, but she was eager to try. So, when one of the stall’s owners asked if she wished to assist in the making of fruit cakes, she jumped at the chance.
“And how do I do this, exactly?” she had asked as she put on an apron to cover her coat. “I admit, I have never baked before.”
“It is easy to do, my lady,” the kindly owner of the stall explained. “I have the ingredients all set for you…” She indicated to the table which was packed with various chopped fruits. “All you need do is combine them and stir them into a batter. You know how to do that, yes?”
“I will figure it out,” she assured the baker.
It was more fun than it should have been. But really, it wasn’t the act of mixing that Alison enjoyed, so much as it was the communal feeling that came with it. As she mixed the ingredients into a large bowl, and as she started to stir, various villagers approached her, spoke with her as if she was an oldfriend, laughed and joked and made fun of how out of place she was.
“Maybe tomorrow, I’ll try being a Lord,” Tommy mocked when he found her behind the stall. Pickle saw him and raced around the stall, yapping and jumping up his leg.
“Oh, really?” Alison said. “You don’t have the look of a Lord; I hate to be the one to tell you.”
“It’s not about that.” Tommy scooped Pickle into his arms, letting the dog lick his face. “It’s about how you act.” Then he grinned and nodded at Daniel who stood at the back of the stall with his arms folded and a scowl on his face. “Sort of like you got a stick shoved up your –”
“Yes, yes,” she cut him off. “Point made.”
Indeed, despite how much fun Alison was having, she could not help but notice that the complete opposite was true for Daniel. Oh sure, he had agreed to come today, and he had told her that he wanted to… or that he wanted to because she did. But he had done nothing so far to suggest he was enjoying himself, and she doubted that it was going to change any time soon.
“Are you sure you do not wish to have a try?” She held the bowl out to him. The batter was mixed by then, but that wasn’t really the point. “It is more fun than it looks.”
“That is the very definition of damning with faint praise,” Daniel said, arms folded, curling his lips at the bowl. “I imagine stubbing my toe would be just as enjoyable.”
She rolled her eyes at the response.
It did not surprise her that he wasn’t having fun, just as it did not surprise her that he was not trying. That he was there at all should have been enough, that he wanted to spend time with her in a place that he would have rather had avoided.
But Alison wasn’t about to take his rejection so easily. She remembered their snow fight, what felt like weeks ago now, how resistant he had been, and how much fun he had when he finally relaxed and allowed it. Hewantedto enjoy himself; she was sure. He just didn’t know how.
“What do you think?” She took a scoop of the gooey batter and started moving it to her mouth. “Is it ready?”
Daniel raised an eyebrow at her. “To cook? Most likely. To eat? Somehow, I doubt it.”
