The Wolves of Midwinter

17

IT WAS SATURDAY EVENING about 9:00 p.m. when they returned, and never had the property looked more warm, more welcoming, more beautiful. Through the rainy mist as they came up the road, they could make out the lighted gables along the front and the neat squares and rectangles of three stories of windows.

Felix came out of the front door to greet them all in the driveway with a warm embrace and to show them the preparations for tomorrow’s banquet. His exuberance was positively contagious.

The entire terrace was now one great lighted and decorated pavilion, with the giant tented rooms flowing into one another on either side of a great covered corridor that led to the immense Christmas stable.

It stood with its back to the sea surrounded by a forest of dense and beautiful Douglas fir trees, all splendidly lighted like everything else. The white-marble figures of the crèche were artfully illuminated and perfectly arranged amid a bed of green pine branches, and a more splendid Christmas grouping Reuben had never seen. Even Stuart got wistful and almost sad looking at it. It excited Reuben terribly that all his family would see this. And he could have stood alone by the crèche for a long time, just looking at the white-marble faces of Mary and Joseph and the beaming Christ Child. On the pediment of the stable a great white-marble angel had been fixed with brackets and bolts, who, bathed in golden light, looked down on the Holy Family.

The forest of tall potted Douglas firs extended to the right and the left of the stable, against a newly constructed wooden wall, and this functioned as an excellent windbreak. Nobody after dark could have seen the ocean anyway.

To the left of the stable in the vast tented space was a massive grouping of little gold-painted music chairs, ready and waiting, with black-wire music stands, for the orchestra, while on the far right side were the chairs for the adult choir and for the boys’ choir, which would alternate and at times sing together.

There were other choirs, too, Felix quickly added, and they’d be singing in the house and in the oaks. He’d conferred with everyone today, and seen to everything.

The rest of the pavilion was beautifully furnished with hundreds of small white draped tables and white dressed chairs, all trimmed in gold ribbon. Each table had its trio of candles in a glass shade, surrounded with holly.

Every few yards it seemed there were station tables or bars already stocked with silver coffee urns, china, and cases of glassware as well as cases of soft drinks and tubs for the ice that would be delivered tomorrow. Mountains of linen napkins lay in waiting, along with piles of sterling spoons and dessert forks.

The metal framing beneath the high white roofs of the tents was all concealed in fresh pine garland, bound here and there with red velvet ribbon; a lot of holly had been worked into this as well. And the flagstones of the entire terrace had been cleaned and polished to a high luster.

Tall treelike oil heaters were in place all over, and some were already lighted to keep the air not only warm but dry. Tiny multicolored lights were strung everywhere. But soft white floodlights provided the real illumination.

The pavilion opened in two places along the east side to accommodate incoming guests from the driveway and those wandering out into the oak forest, and the door of the house itself opened into the pavilion.

In sum, it had become a huge sprawling extension of the house, and Reuben confessed he’d never seen anything on this scale before, not even at the largest weddings.

The rain was falling only lightly now and Felix had high hopes that it would die off for a little while tomorrow. “But still, it will be entirely possible to walk in the forest,” he said, “as the branches are so thick. Well, let’s hope, and if not, well, it’s splendid to look at.”

Yes, indeed it was.

“You should see the town,” Felix said. “Everything’s ready for the fair. The Inn’s full, and people have been renting out spare bedrooms in their homes to the merchants. We have a marvelous range of crafts. Just wait. And think what we can do for next year when we really have time to do things properly.”

He brought the company into the main room, and stood with arms folded as they acknowledged the perfection of everything.

It had all been “done,” or so they had thought when they left, but it seemed a multitude of refinements had been added. “Those are pure bayberry candles on all the mantels,” Felix said, “and the holly. Do note the holly.” It was everywhere, with sharp dark glistening leaves and bright red berries, nestled into the garland around the fireplaces, the doorways, and the windows.

To the giant tree, already a masterpiece before they left, countless little gold ornaments had been added, most representing nuts or dates, and also a whole sprinkling of gold angels.

And to the right of the front door stood a giant dark heavily carved German grandfather clock, “to chime on New Year’s Eve,” said Felix.

In the dining room, the great table was covered in Battenberg lace, and laid out, like the hunter’s boards, with sterling chafing dishes and heavy serving pieces. In the corner a long bar was set up with a dazzling array of name-brand liquors and wines, and there were round tables here and there with potbellied silver coffee urns and piles of sparkling china cups and saucers.

China plates in ten or more patterns at least were piled at the ends of the long table along with stacks of heavy sterling dinner forks. Chefs would carve the turkey and the ham for a “fork meal,” said Felix, as some people would have to balance a plate on their knees, and he wanted them to be entirely comfortable.

Reuben was completely in the spirit. Only the absence of Laura hurt him, and also the worry about Marchent. But judging from Felix’s excitement, perhaps there was no cause now to worry about Marchent. Nevertheless the thought of Marchent here or Marchent gone struck equal terror in Reuben’s heart. But he didn’t want to say so.

They had their supper in the kitchen, crowding around the rectangular table by the window, Lisa ladling up a pungent beef stew into their bowls, while the men served themselves their drinks, and Jean Pierre served a crisp green salad. Stuart devoured half a loaf of French bread before even touching the stew.

“Don’t worry about this kitchen,” Felix said. “It will be turned out like everything else. And don’t be shocked at all the garland upstairs. We can take it all down off the doors after the party.”

“I’m kind of loving it,” Stuart said. And he did appear dazed as he looked around at the trimmings on the kitchen window which hadn’t been there before, and the masses of candles on the sideboard. “It’s a shame it can’t be Christmas all year.”

“Oh, but the spring will bring its festivals,” said Felix. “Now we must get our rest. We have to be down in the village by ten a.m. tomorrow for the fair. Of course we can take breaks. We don’t have to be there all day; well, I have to be there all day, and, Reuben, it would be good if you were with me.”

Reuben agreed immediately. He was smiling at the sheer scope of all this, and wondered who would be first in his family to ask how much it had cost and who was paying for it. Maybe Celeste would ask that question, but then maybe again she wouldn’t dare.

It was Stuart now who asked this very question.

Felix clearly didn’t want to answer, and Sergei said, “A banquet like this is a gift to everyone who comes, you wait and see; it’s that way. You can’t measure it in dollars and cents. It’s an experience. And people will be talking about it for years. You give them something priceless with all this.”

“Yes, but they give us something priceless too,” said Felix, “in that they come, they are part of it, and what would it be without every one of them?”

“True,” said Sergei, and then looking at Stuart he said gravely in his crackling baritone, “In my time, of course, we ate the captives of other tribes at Midwinter, but before cooking them, we put them to death painlessly.”

Felix laughed out loud before he could stop himself.

And Stuart shot back, “Oh, yeah, right!—You’re a farm boy from West Virginia and you know it. Probably worked in a coal mine for a little while. Hey, I’m not knocking it. Just sayin’.”

Sergei laughed and shook his head.

Margon and Felix exchanged a secretive look, but said nothing.

After supper, Reuben and Felix headed up the steps together. “You must tell me if you see her,” said Felix. “But I don’t think you will. I think Elthram and his people have been successful.”

“Did Elthram tell you this?”

“More or less,” he said. “I hope you sleep well tonight, and I so appreciate you’re coming with me to the village tomorrow—because you are the lord of the manor, you know, and they all so want to see you. It’s going to be a long day and evening, but it’s only once a year, and they’ll all love it.”

“I’m going to love it too,” said Reuben. “And what about Laura?”

“Well, she’ll be with us tomorrow in the village for a little while … and then later on Christmas Eve, of course. That’s all I know. Reuben, we must let her do things her own way. That’s what Thibault is doing—letting her decide things.”

“Yes, sir,” said Reuben with a smile. He kissed Felix quickly, in the European style on both cheeks, and then went off to bed.

He was asleep the moment he hit the pillow.