Free Simon and the Christmas Spirit by Summer Devon Page A

delivered to his home the day
before. His strange behavior had set the servants abuzz. They’d
been eager and excited enough that he’d promptly had his carriage
return to the market to order more for the staff feast—and better
gifts for the servants’ Boxing Day celebration. And today he still
behaved thoroughly out of character.
    Wearing the mask of someone other than
himself, he was brave enough to quietly offer his lewd suggestion
to Christopher. And oh, didn’t Christopher appear as dumbstruck as
Simon had hoped he be? And wasn’t he a handsome vision this morning
in a half-tucked shirt, patched trousers, and hair still tousled
from bed.
    “ You…” Christopher began,
then shook his head.
    “ I.” Simon smiled and felt
the false beard shift on his face and come unhooked from his right
ear.
    “ You need some spirit gum
for that,” an older gentleman said, reaching out to touch his chin.
“Unless you want to make a comic turn?”
    “ Father Christmas, have
you a dolly for me?” The little girl at his feet leaped up and
tugged on Simon’s sleeve.
    Resuming his role, Simon quickly
readjusted the beard, then helped her search the many parcels until
he found the doll he’d purchased. Not knowing the exact ages of
Christopher’s siblings, Simon had bought a little bit of
everything, from baby clothes to young ladies’ parasols.
    As more and more people crowded into
the room, there appeared to be a great deal more than the four
siblings Christopher had claimed to have. Simon was glad he’d
purchased a wide variety.
    “ Good day to you, Father
Christmas,” a short woman with a beautiful oval face and a smile
exactly like Christopher’s beamed up at him. Her dyed blonde hair
showed only a bit of gray at her scalp. “God bless you for bringing
all these wonderful gifts. And would you care to stay for the feast
I shall make?”
    She clutched the unopened bottle of
champagne that Simon had handed to the old man and that she’d
deftly snatched away.
    “ Yes, ma’am. I’ve
distributed presents all night, and I’m rather famished.” Simon
played along, amazed at how easy it was to indulge in
make-believe.
    Mrs. Andrews bustled off and called
out directions to her brood, who began to unpack the foodstuff he’d
brought.
    “ Shan’t be able to cook
that goose, I’m afraid.” Christopher was right beside him, close
enough Simon could’ve reached out and taken his hand if he’d dared.
“Our stove is too small, and we’re out of coal. Although I suppose
one of the neighbors would oblige if offered a share of the
bird.”
    “ I should’ve bought a
stove too. I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Simon was crestfallen. He’d
tried to prepare for every contingency, but hadn’t even imagined a
home so poor that they didn’t have a proper stove to cook
on.
    Christopher leaned into him, shoulder
against shoulder “I’m glad you came. And not because of all this.”
He waved his hand around at the purchases. “I hoped you’d change
your mind. May I introduce you to my family?”
    “ I’m Father Christmas.
Aren’t I meant to know all their names already?” Simon teased. “But
perhaps you should refresh my memory. I’d hate to make a mistake
and insult Miss…” He gestured at the little girl rapidly destroying
the coiffure of her new doll.
    “ Miss Molly.” Christopher
took Simon’s hand and brought him to the little girl.
    Doll dangling from her hand, she
wrapped her arms around Simon’s robe-covered legs. “Thank you,
Father Christmas.”
    He bent low to talk to her. “You’re
welcome, Molly. I hope you like the color of her hair.”
    “ Red. Like mine. She’s
beautiful.”
    “ As are you, sweetheart.”
He patted her forehead with one white-gloved hand, then
straightened to talk with Christopher some more. “Your youngest
sister?”
    “ Not actually my sister.
She’s the daughter of a temporarily disabled juggler staying with
us. There’s my sister Lilah, and my other sister,