Midnight in Everwood(8)
Marietta smiled. ‘What a delightful invention.’ She ran her hands over its surface, feeling for the seams of the doors, but the wood was smooth and flat.
‘I say, show her what happens at midnight,’ Frederick said, sitting on the edge of the nearest settee to gain a second look.
‘Why, whatever happens at midnight? Now I simply must know.’ Marietta glanced up at Drosselmeier in time to meet his smile. On the other side of the room, where her parents looked on, she couldn’t help noticing Ida murmur discreetly to Theodore.
‘Only the most magical things happen at midnight. When mortal folk are dreaming, safe in their beds, it is then that the sprites and goblins creep out and the air crackles with wild magic.’ He wound the hands to the witching hour.
Marietta shivered. Outside the window, a blanched moon had swum up the sky, and now and then it peered milkily at them between cloud wisps. An owl hooted, a branch tapped against the window and the candles glowed like fallen stars. A glimmer of something a little like belief slid into her heart. When the clock struck midnight, a series of tiny hatches opened, revealing a collection of little fairies, twelve in all, arising in puffs of lilac tulle and silver glitter. They flew up and down on mechanised rose stems, descending in as magical a manner as they’d appeared, leaving not a speck of glitter behind them.
‘What a charming creation,’ Marietta said. ‘Why, it’s every bit as magical as the fairy tales I read as a child. My father is entirely correct, you do possess an extraordinary talent.’
‘Come along,’ Theodore called back to them as he escorted Ida into dinner, his cheeks ruddy above his silk tie, navy to accentuate his wife’s dress.
‘Though you are far too kind, your compliment has warmed me. May I accompany you to dinner?’ Drosselmeier offered his arm.
Marietta acquiesced. She smiled and took it. His jacket sleeve was silky, scented with peppermint and secrets. She rested her fingertips atop it.
During the course of the previous day, Ida had overseen the household staff preparing the dining room until it gleamed, determined for it to be showcased at its best. The mahogany table and chairs shone with polish and a faint honeyed scent. Large crystal vases brimmed with roses and white stocks in a confection of pastel peach and cream, and the wooden floors were softened by the Persian carpet, which had been cleaned for the occasion. The electric lights had been switched off in favour of the softer glow afforded by candlelight. Tapered candles in silver holders punctuated the table settings. Other candles were capped with shades, melting the light into twinkling shadows.
Marietta found herself seated beside Frederick, on the opposite side to Dr Drosselmeier, with her parents at opposing ends of the table. His gaze brushed against her as they took their places and Marietta glanced down to hide her rising colour. She busied herself with unbuttoning her long ivory gloves at the thumbs and peeling back the silken material over her wrists.
‘You appear to be settling into Nottingham rather nicely from what I gather. Tell me, how are you finding our fine city?’ Theodore asked while his glass was filled with sherry in accompaniment to the soup course.
Drosselmeier shook out his napkin. ‘I must confess, my enjoyment of it took me entirely by surprise. Most of society are in the belief that only the grand cities of London, Paris and New York are worth bothering with but I have found that Nottingham holds a certain charm of its own.’
His words were smooth and deliberate. Marietta swept a spoon across her soup; leek and potato with swirls of cream and fried croutons, quietly taking his measure herself.
‘We’re full of charm,’ Frederick said drily. ‘What was it that had you set your sights on Nottingham? I believe you mentioned you used to be a doctor?’
‘That’s correct. In fact, I owned a private practice in London some years ago.’
‘A practice of your own is an impressive feat for a man of your age.’ Ida’s dark-blue eyes sparkled in the candlelight, her delight at his accomplishment obvious, her smile as effective an accessory as the pearls strung around her neck.
‘That is most kind of you. Though I must confess, I found it all rather tiresome.’ Drosselmeier twizzled his soup spoon in his long fingers. The silver sparked and Marietta glanced up at it. Between the flashes she caught a glimpse of a glass swan, floating along a mirrored lake. A vision of ice and stars and the cold, dark spaces between them that were wont to pinch her thoughts with terror if she dwelled too long upon them. She frowned and it shattered.
‘I soon grew tired of the monotony and escaped London for a while, fortunately so, as it was then that I discovered my raison d’être in my current profession.’
As Drosselmeier continued, Marietta turned her attention back onto her soup, ignoring the anxious moth-wing flutters of her heart. She must have been imagining things.
‘In crafting your own inventions?’ Theodore finished his soup and proceeded to drain his glass.
Marietta sensed with sibling intuition that Frederick was attempting to hook her attention. Drosselmeier’s smile poured across his features like honey. The slow, languorous smile of a person who believes they hold the secrets of the world. Marietta was curious what he would say next.
‘I prefer to think of it as spreading a little magic,’ he said, and, with a flourish, he shook out his serviette onto the tablecloth. When he whisked it away, Marietta pressed her fingers to her mouth. A small glass swan was sitting there. Delicate and gossamer-fine with a luminosity to it that played with the qualities of light and reflection.