footman Marston and Grim baited stiffened but held his post by the door. Alon would have words with him after all the guests were retired for the evening and the house was locked down. There was no doubt that Marston orchestrated the moment but the footman failed and would spend the rest of his career at Blackhurst guarding the kitchen gardens. Violations of protocol would not be tolerated and Cyril couldn’t have someone that malleable that close to him.
“I don’t know what you’re up to but I’ll make your little digital exile feel like a pat on the head if you cause me the wrong kind of grief,” Cyril promised Marston. Farris cleared his throat softly and Cyril glanced to his right.
“It’s the holidays,” he pointed out under his breath then slid a bite of ravioli into his mouth. He licked his lips as he chewed and Cyril was momentarily distracted by the glint of wicked lust in Farris’s eye. Cyril tugged his tie to loosen it and Lavender chuckled.
“Getting warm, Cyril?” He asked. Cyril’s eyes tightened and he gave Lavender a dry look as he reached for his water.
“Getting suicidal?”
“Not yet but ask me again if we’re still here in a week,” Lavender replied.
“I might check out sooner if I have to sit through too many more of these idiotic meals,” Grim said then chewed a large mouthful of grilled duck breast. “This is good but the portions are fucking ridiculous and it has to come on ten different plates,” he complained but aside from his appalling habit of throwing Cyril’s crystal glasses once he emptied them, he was otherwise well-behaved. Marston was on his best behavior as well and headed to the piano when they returned to the study.
“I suppose it falls on me to liven things up, seeing as I’m the only one who’s ever attended a real house party,” he said and cracked his knuckles. His fingers danced over the keys and he was cocky and charming as he leaned toward the audience. “I learned very early that a title wasn’t enough. You had to be filthy rich or fiendishly entertaining to prove your worth. I was poor so I put all those tedious music lessons to use,” he explained then regaled them with an extremely inappropriate rendition of “Oh Holy Night” and “Here Comes Santa Claus.”
“I’ll give it a shot,” Lavender said and his husband cheered excitedly as he nudged Sharp.
“Drunk Lavender and he’s going to play the piano? This night is a total win for me, honestly,” Bradley said and saluted his husband with his beer. Lavender chuckled as he sipped from his martini glass.
“Just wait until later,” he purred and winked at Bradley. Then Lavender humphed thoughtfully and tapped his chin as he studied the keys then nodded. “I’ve got just the thing,” he said and the notes were softer but almost melancholy as his fingers crawled over the keys. “I’m dreaming of a white Christmas...” He sang and Cyril was impressed by the rich smoothness of his voice. “Not like the ones he used to know.” Lavender cocked his head at Marston and sniffed suggestively. Ivanof bit down on his lips and there were several snorts from around the room. “Now Blink’s baubles glisten, and footmen listen, to hear footsteps in the snow. Oh, the snow...” He paused and rested his elbow on the piano so he could sip from his drink. “What’s the most disappointing thing a man can get on Christmas morning?” He asked and looked around. Several people shook their heads but West was game.
“What’s the most disappointing thing a man can get?” West asked and Lavender flashed him a wide smile as he set down his martini glass.
“A sweater. Especially when he was hoping for a screamer or a moaner,” he replied and Bradley rolled his eyes but there were loud whistles and a few claps. Lavender threw his husband a very loaded look as he returned to the melody. “Not that I’ve ever been disappointed... I said, I’m dreaming of going home for Christmas. With every dinner we survive. May our days be brief here and bright. And may all Marston’s Christmases be white. I said, I’m dreaming of a white Christmas. Not like the ones he used to know. Where Grim’s test tubes glisten, and he tries not to listen, to the many voices in his head.” The music stopped and Lavender reclined on his elbow again and took another drink. “You know, I remember lying