Page 49 of The Christmas Mittens
“Yes, it’s seen some wear. Perhaps I can do something with the frays on the edges of the sleeves and this stain on the lapel.”
“Do you think it’s not suitable for the baptism?” I now felt like the working-class man that I was. He looked my way with bright blue eyes. “It’s the only suit I own. I know it’s old. Probably outdated. Shit. Oh sorry! Should I buy a new one?”
A rap at the door saved the poor man from saying what I already knew. He laid the jacket on the bed, went to let the young lady in, and then hurried her off once the coffee had been wheeled in on a small cart. There was a small plate filled with pastries sitting beside the silver pot.
I rushed over to pour my own coffee so as not to feel like a dork. “So the suit?” I asked after taking a sip of the best coffee that had ever run over my taste buds. It was a light roast and had a sweet yet fruity flavor. “Is it too old to wear?”
“I’m sure it’s not my place to say, sir,” he replied in that thick Germanic accent.
“No, please, Rolph, be honest. I’m not really a clotheshorse, so…” I pulled out my best sad dog face. “Your advice would be appreciated.”
“Well, sir, if it were myself, I would visit one of the tailors in town today for a fast fitting on a new suit. Perhaps a dark brown or gray to complement your hair coloring?”
“Okay, thank you. After we tour the gardens, I’ll ask for a car to go into town.”
“Let me arrange that for you, sir. The garden tours should take an hour or two, so we can have a car for you at the front door at three in the afternoon?” He looked up from the slim tablet in his hand. I nodded. He typed. “Wonderful. A car will be ready. I took the liberty of having security go with you since Prince Anderswill no doubt wish to go. Also, as a reminder, there is a family dinner in the private dining hall at eight tonight. Required attire will be dressy casual. Perhaps a new sweater to wear with your older suit after it’s been freshened up a bit? No tie will be required.”
“Sure, yes, I’ll look for a sweater when I go to buy a suit.” I smiled at him. He nodded back with a pleased aura.
“Excellent. You have thirty minutes to shower and shave. Would you like me to start the shower for you?”
“No, no, I can do it. Thanks.” I hurried to toss back my coffee as he began placing my socks and underwear into the small drawers in the massive armoire. I grabbed my shaving kit. Slipping into the bath, I couldn’t help but feel awkward having some stranger handling my briefs. Shaking off the embarrassment, I turned to see a huge shower awaiting me. Thick towels hung neatly over two racks. The white marble sinks and toilet glistened. A potted orchid in a blue pot sat on the counter. The floor was warm under my feet. Behind the thick sliding doors of the shower, I saw bottles of shampoo, conditioner, and body wash sitting on a narrow shelf next to a stack of washcloths, a loofah, and a shower puff. Every possible want had been taken care of before a person even knew they wanted it.
I was beginning to see why poor old Aladdin wanted to be a prince. The bathrooms alone were reason enough!
***
I saw my daughter for about forty minutes at luncheon before she was whisked off by the queen for a “girls’ day out,” which both seemed to be giddy about.
Anders had lingered over his coffee as Rani and I had exchanged schedules. I filled him in on what Rolph had set upfor me. Anders did wish to go clothes shopping, so Arne and Alfred were tasked with accompanying us, just as they were now as we made our way outside. The wind from the mighty peak blew damn cold as it roared down the cliff side. Anders was bundled up in his blue Prada coat and one of my homemade scarves, the wind throwing his curls this way and that. I had pulled on an old sweater, one that I had made for myself a couple of years ago, with my thickest coat, a scarf, and mittens. Della pranced along beside us, unleashed, in her pink sweater. No mittens were to be seen on her tiny feet, and I asked why as we strolled through the wintry remnants of the English garden.
“She had some yellow ones from Gilda, but she tore them off then tried to eat one,” he explained as the dog trotted along merrily on the swept garden path. “I give it about four minutes before she’s begging to be carried because her feet are cold.”
I chuckled and then slid my hand into the crook of his arm. He patted it gently. The two men behind us were as quiet as new snow, never making a sound to disturb us.
“I know this is going to sound nosy, but how large are the castle grounds?”
“About fifty hectares, including the maze, the stables, and the groundskeeper’s plot.”
“A stable? Oh man, Gilda will love hearing that.”
“Show me a teenage girl who doesn’t love horses,” he quipped just as Della flushed a dove of some sort from a bush with bright red berries. “I’m sure we can set up a ride for her while you’re here. Winter rides through the lowlands are beautiful.”
“She’d love that but neither of us knows how to ride,” I said while watching the dark gray dove soar higher and higher.
“That can be fixed. Our stable master is a tenderhearted, patient man with several daughters of his own.” He seemed so sure that people would just do as he wished whenever he wished. Then it hit me again that, yeah, they would because hewas royalty. Even surrounded by castle grounds, I sometimes forgot that Anders was way more than a wandering soul. “In the summer, this area would be alive with hollyhocks, roses, lavender, and peonies. The hedges are planted in such a way as to act as borders with small water areas sprinkled about. Mother loves the feel of English gardens and did her best to recreate one here.”
“I’m sure it’s gorgeous.” Even coated with snow, the winding paths were charming. Add in a thatched cottage and a spot in the shade for tea, and one might think they were in the Cotswolds. “I’d love to visit here when it’s warm and have some tea with you tucked back into some hidden alcove with bees buzzing around.”
“I’d like that too. We will make that happen if all goes well with this visit,” he cautiously replied. I studied his profile, his regal nose red from the cold, his breath clouding in front of him.
“I’m sure everything will be just fine. Your mother and Gilda are like two bugs in a rug,” I said and got a tight smile.
“It’s not Mother that I’m overly worried about,” he said, shaking his head as if to clear the concern. “Let’s not invite trouble. Are you warm enough to go through the maze? We’ll be out of the cold and can kiss to our hearts’ content.”
“We have company,” I whispered with a jerk of my head to our constant companions.
“They’ll pretend to be admiring the statuary.” With a wink, we doubled our pace and jogged into the maze, laughing softly. Within seconds, I was in his arms, and his lips were on mine. Oh yes, he was right. It wasmuchwarmer here.
