A Midwinter Fantasy - Leanna Renee Hieber [9]
Her husband scowled in clear displeasure at being left out. Percy dotingly stroked his black hair but offered no apology.
Michael gestured to the next room. Percy moved into it, the spectral boy close on her heels. Constance wafted to follow, offering Alexi a curtsey on the way out. Michael recalled having seen her at Athens Academy, too.
Alexi addressed her. “It is good to see you, Constance,” he called as the spirit moved to pursue Percy. She stopped at the sound of her name. His scowl eased though his schoolmaster tone remained. “I owe you a bit of credit for making it quite clear, despite my inability to hear you, that I should teach my then-pupil to waltz. That thrilling lesson began our downfall; your friend is now my wife. As I didn’t see you haunting our wedding, I assume the news might please you.”
Constance’s gaunt face brightened into a delighted smile that lit her whole transparent being, and she clapped her hands soundlessly in delight.
Percy poked her head out from the next room. “Constance, are—?”
The ghost said something, grinning, bobbing in the air.
Percy blushed. “Oh, yes, the professor and I are married. Isn’t it wonderful?” She stared at her husband with renewed excitement, as if she could still hardly believe her good fortune, and Alexi’s scowl was again vanquished by his earnest wife. A moment later, the spirits and Percy disappeared also, to discuss their mysterious business.
Percy. They’d found her so late in the course of their Grand Work, she’d been with them for such a short time before their powers were taken back, that Michael wondered what more they might have accomplished had she spent her entire life with them. Then again, she was only nineteen, and had he known her as a child it would have been awkward for Alexi to up and marry her. But true love overcame all obstacles, despite needing to await its time. Michael supposed if an immortal incarnation of Rebecca had taken up residence in one of his young parishioners and sought him out at an appropriate juncture, he’d think about her age a bit differently, too. As for its time . . . he had certainly awaited love long enough.
Elijah and Alexi fell to quarreling, filling up the silence with familiar chatter. Withersby demanded Alexi be present for his and Josephine’s imminent wedding, but Alexi was set upon taking immediate time away. Each demanded theirs was the more important event, and neither budged. The debate then progressed to who, in truth, was the more difficult man in the realm of cohabitation. Josephine steered clear of a vote.
The two men whirled on Michael at the same time, both clearly expecting his acquiescence.
“You’ll take care of the Athens particulars I delineate?” Alexi barked.
“You’ll arrange the wedding?” Elijah insisted.
Michael took a breath and called upon the one gift that thankfully had not left him: his patience. He took a sip of mulled wine and examined his anxious compatriots. “Professor, you’d be hard-pressed to find anywhere I’d rather be than at Athens Academy, to help the headmistress,” he said. “And Withersby, anything to get you into a church—may the Lord forgive me or bless my efforts.” He smiled. “Perhaps it’s best if Alexi and you aren’t both under one sacred roof, though. I fear other guests might be harmed by chastising lightning bolts from Heaven should you quarrel so in His house.”
Percy breezed back into the room. The spirits were gone. Alexi stared at her expectantly. She kissed her husband on the head, beaming. “I love Christmas!” she exclaimed, and took her empty teacup into the kitchen. If any of the former