Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

T hat evening is a true delight. I might not have gotten the Victorian Christmas I envisioned, but this is even better. It resurrects wonderful memories of my nan and our Hogmanay celebrations together, while building new memories for this new life.

We start with a feast that’s half Scottish and half Dickens’s Christmas Carol, with haggis and roast goose and mincemeat and black buns. Even Jack decides to stay for this part, though she’ll leave later to meet up with friends. McCreadie comes to dinner, as does Annis.

Once the meal is eaten, we all help with the cleanup, over Mrs. Wallace’s protests—I get the sense this is an annual mini-drama, with everyone knowing their lines. Once the dishes are done and the kitchen is clean, Isla presents all the staff with the traditional Hogmanay gift of new clothes, which we wear that night to symbolize a new year and new beginnings. As I put on my dress, I discovered a pound note in each pocket, which is apparently another tradition to ward off misfortune, presumably of the financial sort.

From there, we go into the streets where the party is heating up... quite literally. There are endless torches and bonfires, and the others indulge my love of fireballs by joining a parade. The evening proceeds up to Calton Hill, where we watch boats below, which have been, yep, set on fire.

We end the celebrations at midnight with Molotov cocktails—yes, that’s my fault, too. Then Simon, Alice, and Mrs. Wallace stay behind at the town house, and Annis returns home, while Gray, Isla, McCreadie, and I go to McCreadie’s apartment so Gray can be first over the threshold.

According to Scottish custom, the first foot over the door sets the luck for the year, and the most lucky guest of all is a tall and dark-haired man. My nan said this hearkened back to Viking days, when finding a blond dude on your doorstep was really bad luck. Gray does the first-footing every year for McCreadie, taking his friend a gift of salt and a black bun. Then we all go inside to exchange gifts.

It’s nearly three when we get home, a little tipsy and a little giddy. Gray stays to share a drink with Simon, which also lets him serve as the first-footer for Simon’s apartment.

“I have another gift for you,” I say to Isla once we’re inside.

“More? You were overly generous already.”

I wave that off. “This is just a little extra. It’s in my room.”

We make our way up, and I pass her a package wrapped in brown paper. “Jack and I visited a print shop during the investigation, and I bought you some samples.”

She slowly takes the package. “Given what you were there to investigate, do I want to know what sort of ‘samples’ you bought me?”

“Warming material.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Warming material?”

“Scottish winters are very long, very dark, and very cold. That might make them a little more tolerable.”

Her cheeks go bright red, and she feigns a scowl.

“You just like to see me blush, don’t you?” she says.

“You blush very prettily.”

Her eyes narrow. “And you are a very poor liar.”

“Happy Hogmanay, Isla.”

She looks at me. Then she puts her arms out, and I fall into her hug.

“Happy Hogmanay, Mallory.”

I am in the kitchen by dawn, having entreated Alice to get me up, no matter how tired or hungover I am. I still have one gift left to give, and while I convinced Mrs. Wallace to lend me her kitchen for it, I can’t rely on her to wake me.

Mrs. Wallace may have granted me the kitchen—or a piece of countertop and a burner on the stove—but that doesn’t keep her from grumbling about my “nonsense.” I ignore her and spend the next two hours working, past the time when Alice rushes in to say, “They are awake, ma’am!” and Mrs. Wallace kicks into high gear preparing the first breakfast of the new year.

Once I’m ready, I race upstairs to change as quickly as I can. Luckily, I already put on all my undergarments and only need to switch out my dress, wash my face and adjust my hair. Then it’s back down to the kitchen to get the gift.

I walk into the dining room just as Gray is saying to Isla, “Is Mallory not joining us?”

“Mallory is right here,” I say. “Mallory had to get up at an ungodly hour to make your gift.”

I set the platter in front of him. On it are a half dozen still-warm pastries.

“Doughnuts,” I say. “I can’t tell whether they’re a thing yet, but if they are, they’re an American thing.”

Isla leans forward and inhales. “They smell delicious.”

“They’re for you, too,” I say. “Duncan gets first pick. Those two are dusted with cinnamon sugar.” I point. “Those two are jam filled, and the other two are my attempt at a chocolate glaze, which is tricky here.”

I take my seat. “They’re basically fried dough. I went through a phase of making them as a teen, and I remember the recipe. And I can get all the ingredients here and make them without an electric oven.”

Isla sighs. “Do not tease me again with talk of electric ovens and electric ice boxes.”

I could ask when’s the last time she actually used the oven here, but I hold my tongue and turn to Gray. “If you don’t like them, please feel free to say so. I have a couple more recipes I could try.”

“And if I do like them?” he says.

“Then I’ll make you a batch every month. One plateful wouldn’t be a proper gift. Although, you might need to speak to Mrs. Wallace if you want that—the biggest problem making these was getting her to give up part of her kitchen this morning.”

He takes his fork and cuts off a piece, and I don’t correct his process. One bite, and then another, and then another.

I try not to hold my breath awaiting the verdict. Of course I do. This isn’t the fanciest gift I could get him, but I put more thought and effort into it than I care to admit.

“There is one problem,” he says as he takes a bite of the next one.

My heart thuds. “Okay.”

“I will tell Mrs. Wallace that you need to commandeer her kitchen once a month, but you are going to need to explain why I do not eat her carefully prepared breakfast this morning.”

He glances at Isla. “You will need to wait and try next month’s batch. These are all mine.”

She rolls her eyes, reaches over and snatches one, and I relax and settle in to watch them eat as they chatter and laugh.

1869 has been a hell of a year, and I’m still reeling, as much as I try to pretend otherwise. But it’s no longer 1869. Today is the first day of 1870, and I’m still here, no longer a guest but a citizen.

While I’ve never been one to make resolutions, this year, I will. It’s time to make this my world. Find my place and settle in, because I’m not going anywhere.

I snake a hand out to grab a doughnut from Gray’s plate. He tries to grab it back, but I take a quick bite before holding it out.

“Still want it?” I say.

He eyes the bitten doughnut. “I ought to say no but...”

I laugh, cut it in half and give him the piece without the bite. Then I settle in with my pastry and my coffee and listen to Isla and Gray making plans for the day. Plans for our day, together.