Benjamin stood before the entrance to the aviary and faced a crowd of hundreds.

He had given any number of addresses to Parliament that ought to carry much more weight and import. But for the first time, he felt as though he stood at the crossroads of his own life.

At last, he was seconds away from washing his hands of his grandfather’s final manipulation. Minutes away from once more having in his possession an heirloom he had feared lost to him forever. An hour away from being back in his carriage with which he could finally put all things Cressmouth and Christmas behind him for good.

So why hadn’t he begun the proceedings?

He tried not to send another glance toward Noelle, but the temptation was impossible to resist. If he had yearned for her before, his addiction had only increased. It was as if his eyes wished to drink her up, to commit every eyelash, every wrinkle of her nose, every curve of her lips to memory.

But he was too close to having done with his grandfather’s final manipulation. He could let nothing stand in its way. Especially not his own emotions.

“Welcome to the Castle Aviary Grand Opening Celebration,” he called out, feeling absolutely ridiculous using such terminology to describe a single brown game bird nestled in a wicker basket.

The crowd let out a thundering cheer, as if he had announced the war with France was finally over and that he had personally defeated Napoleon Bonaparte armed with nothing more than a partridge.

They could not possibly be serious. He slid an incredulous glance toward Noelle.

“We like parties,” she said with a grin. “And Mr. Marlowe. And Cressmouth. There’s really no way this could go wrong.”

Benjamin hoped not. Nonetheless, he lifted a corner of the blanket covering the basket to ensure he carried a partridge, not porridge, and that nothing else could go awry. The bird lay in the center, one wing covering its head as if to block out the roar from the crowd.

“My sincere apologies,” Benjamin whispered. “Soon you can hide in a tree where you belong.”

With a flourish, he opened the door to the aviary and whipped the blanket from the basket to allow the bird to fly inside.

The partridge did not move.

He gave the basket a little jiggle. Had the bird expired in the hundred yards from outbuilding to aviary? God help him.

The partridge opened one baleful eye and glared sullenly at Benjamin.

His shoulders relaxed. The creature hadn’t died. It just hated him.

“Behold the partridge!” Benjamin shouted and shoved the uncovered basket over the threshold and into the aviary.

Nothing happened. No chirps. Not so much as a flutter.

Benjamin ignored the bird. It was inside the aviary. That was all that mattered. The terms were complete. A thousand people could file indoors to gather around a basket if they so wished. He had fulfilled his part of the bargain.

“Champagne,” murmured Noelle and gestured toward a footman.

Almost fulfilled. One last step, and his mother’s locket would finally return home. Benjamin’s heart was racing so fast it had become difficult to think. He accepted the bottle of champagne from the footman and motioned everyone to back up a safe distance from the entrance.

He held the bottle of wine aloft. “I dedicate this building to—”

“Mr. Marlowe!” the crowd screamed in unison.

Their deafening roar drowned out Benjamin’s words as he met Noelle’s eyes. “To the indomitable Miss Pratchett.”

There was no hull of a ship to break the bottle against, so he aimed at the patch of ground just before the entrance.

The bottle cracked in two. Foamy champagne sprayed upon the wooden doorframe and Benjamin’s black boots.

His heart leaped. He’d done it!

Two footmen rushed forward with brooms to clear away the glass before the stampeding crowd pulverized the shards into dust.

Benjamin glanced inside the aviary at the bird in the basket.

It was empty.

“Where’s the partridge?” he whispered to Noelle.

“I didn’t see it move,” she whispered back, frowning into the interior. “It cannot have disappeared.”

Benjamin gritted his teeth. He had no wish to actually enter the aviary. He did not want to be caught by the tidal wave of the crowd.

Worse, however, would be for the solicitor to cry foul and claim he had not delivered as promised. Benjamin had not come all this way to fail now.

He stalked through the entrance, scouring atop branches and behind decorative shrubs in search of the elusive bird.

The crowd poured in behind him.

Rather than follow Benjamin along the carefully curated path through the aviary’s painstakingly pruned flora, they streamed to an empty corner on the opposite side of the aviary containing nothing but a plain, spindly sapling listing lonesomely in a bucket of dirt.

Benjamin frowned. Had his grandfather’s will said “pear tree?”

“It’s a brilliant partridge!” a voice called out.

“She looks perfectly at home,” called another. “Placing her on a pear tree is a right lovely touch.”

His body flooded with relief. The partridge had been spotted. The ordeal was over. He had christened the one-bird aviary with all the pomp and circumstance required of him, and was free at last to reunite with his family. The locket and its portrait could finally return home. He could be hours away by nightfall.

Benjamin darted desperate glances around the aviary in search of Noelle, but it was no use. The entire town was attempting to cram itself inside.

He would say goodbye after he retrieved the locket. Perhaps that was better anyway. Poetic. She would be the last thing he saw before he left. The only memory of this town he wished to keep.

He squeezed his way through the crowd to the exit. Once his Hessians touched the ground out-of-doors, he took off running without a backward glance. If the queueing townsfolk found it odd to spy a duke loping away from his own celebration, Benjamin did not care.

Only one thing mattered.

The winter chill stole the air from his lungs and the snow-covered streets slid beneath his boots. In mere moments, he arrived at the jeweler’s out of breath and triumphant.

She was waiting for him behind the counter of her jewelry room.

His heart was pounding. “The aviary is open.”

Miss Parker’s eyes crinkled. “I heard.”

Even from several blocks away, the crowd’s excitement was audible.

He stepped forward. “May I—”

“Here.” She retrieved a thin silk pouch from a hidden nook.

He held out his hands, surprised they were not trembling. He had prevailed. He had won.

Miss Parker upended the pouch and dropped its contents into Benjamin’s outstretched palm.

He had promised himself he would immediately clasp the locket about his neck for safekeeping, but he needed to gaze upon his parents’ faces once more. The hollowness he’d carried inside all these years would fill with love once more. With family. He unlocked the clasp and opened the locket.

There they were. Faded with time, but finally back in his hands. His pulse slowed. He should be full of warmth, of victory. The emptiness should have receded. He had everything he always wanted.

And yet the hollowness remained.

“Is something amiss?” asked the jeweler with concern.

He snapped the locket closed. “Nothing. Thank you for giving me my family back. I will take good care of them.”

Before she could ask any more questions, Benjamin strode out of her workroom and back out onto the front stoop. The blustery wind blew over the town and through his chest.

He lifted the chain to his throat and clasped it about his neck.

No. This would not do.

He unwound the scarf, untied his cravat, and slid the gold oval underneath his shirt until it nestled against his heart. He frowned.

The locket’s return should warm him more than any scarf, than any cravat, and any amount of wool or cozy fire. Instead, he felt cold. Every gust of wind seemed icier than the one before, penetrating his great coat and his waistcoat and his linen shirt until it sliced all the way through his soul.

He curled his hands into fists and glared up at the relentless blue sky. Why hadn’t the return of the locket given him all the things he had hoped it would bring? He had his family back. He had his mother right next to his heart.

But the portrait’s return failed to vanquish the loneliness and emptiness and resentfulness. The locket bore a permanent place about his neck, but failed to fill the hole in his chest. The heirloom was a memento he would always cherish, but still just a thing.

His breath shuddered. Now that he had the locket back, he realized the awful truth. A portrait was just paint, no matter how much he might like to believe otherwise. It didn’t erase the pain. His mother’s likeness could not replicate the real person. The happy family in the miniature would never exist again. The moment it represented was long gone, just like his parents.

His chest clenched. What was better, to cleave to a faded likeness or to keep loved ones close while one still had them? The answer was clear.

He wrapped the scarf Noelle had made him back around his neck and cut through the wind toward the castle. She was the one person he could count on. He was not yet ready for goodbye.

When he drew close, the aviary was still bursting at the seams. Townspeople spilled across its threshold and milled about the garden. Benjamin doubted Noelle was among the revelers. She was one of the few who hadn’t been looking forward to the aviary’s launch.

He circled around the bustling crowd and entered the vacant castle. Nothing but silence greeted him. Benjamin’s footfalls echoed as he raced up six flights of steps to Noelle’s chamber.

When she opened the door, he pulled her into his arms and kissed her. He couldn’t have stopped himself if he wanted to. The heat of her mouth was the only warmth he required. Her embrace, more than enough protection from the cold. Nothing else mattered but holding her tight.

At last, he forced himself to lift his head. “May I come in?”

“Please do.” With a blush, she shut the door behind him and gestured toward a receiving area before the fire.

His nerves were far too raw for sitting down, but he followed her anyway. He was not ready to let her out of his sight.

Her eyes were full of questions. He no longer believed he had any answers.

“Silkridge…” she began.

“Benjamin,” he said firmly. “I’ve no wish to stand on formalities with you of all people.”

“What do you want?” she said quietly.

You.

Happiness.

A new life. A different world. One where they could be together. Anything but this.

He tossed his hat onto the closest chair and shoved a hand through his hair.

Noelle gazed up at him uncertainly from behind her spectacles. “I thought you went to fetch the locket.”

“I did.”

The words sounded as cold and hollow as the yawning cavern in his chest. Nothing about today had gone as planned. Now that he was here, what could he expect but more heartache?

Her fingertips brushed against the back of his hand. “What happened?”

“It’s what didn't happen,” he said at last. “I thought…”

Her gaze softened. “Start at the beginning.”

“I can’t remember the beginning,” he said bitterly. But he forced the words out anyway. “My mother died shortly after giving birth to me. That was my first Christmastide. The only one where I had a family. The last time my father celebrated anything at all.”

Her eyes widened in understanding. “You never had a Christmas.”

“Not one I’d wish to repeat. I lost my father during the same time of year, and just as suddenly.” He let out a shaky breath. “Everyone I have ever loved has been taken from me before I could say goodbye.”

“Is that why…” she began hesitantly. “…the locket means so much?”

“It’s more than a locket.”

He lay his great coat and scarf over the back of an armchair and tossed his cravat atop the seat.

His neck felt bare. Exposed. But he was about to expose even more. He lifted the locket from beneath the linen of his shirt and allowed it to fall back against his chest.

“It’s beautiful.” She lifted her hands as if to touch the gold frame then let them fall without doing so. Her eyes met his.

“Go ahead,” he said. “You can meet my mother.”

Gently, she slid her hand between the locket and his chest and undid the clasp.

He held his breath.

From this angle, he could not see the portrait inside, but he had committed it to memory. Right now, he was not looking at the locket. He was looking at Noelle.

“You look like both of them,” she murmured. “Handsome as your father, but with your mother’s eyes.”

His throat grew tight. They wouldn’t recognize him now. “I suppose I’ve grown a bit since that portrait was painted.”

A soft smile curved her lips. “You’ll have to hang this next to your most recent likeness in your hall of portraits.”

He didn’t answer.

Her brow furrowed. “You haven’t a hall of portraits? I thought all titled families…”

“There aren’t any of me,” he said. Just the thought gave him chills. “After my mother died, my father never posed for another portrait. Neither did I.”

Her eyes widened, and she returned her reverent gaze to the locket. “This miniature truly is beautiful. I hope it has brought you the peace that you sought.”

“It didn’t.” Somehow, he kept his voice from cracking.

She glanced up sharply. “It wasn’t as you remembered it?”

“It was exactly as I remembered,” he said. “And nothing more. I thought… I was certain…”

She touched the locket’s delicate frame. “How did you lose it?”

“What I lost was my family. The locket was stolen from me. My grandfather felt he had more claim to his daughter than a child did of his own mother.”

She drew in her breath. “That’s why you hated him.”

“I didn’t hate him. He hated me.” Benjamin took a deep breath. “Mother died of complications caused by my birth. She barely lasted a month. That was my fault.”

“It was not your fault,” Noelle said sharply, her eyes fierce.

“Tell that to Grandfather,” he said with a curl of his lip. “I always thought if I could get the locket back, I could get my family back. Part of them, anyway. This was the one piece I had. The only tangible thing I could hold onto.”

“Until he took it,” she murmured quietly. “That must have hurt deeply.”

It had been devastating. This was the first time Benjamin had ever spoken about how it had felt. His pulse felt wild and uneven.

“I should have expected it,” he admitted. “Grandfather despised me from the moment of my birth. He blamed my father, too. I was a child. I didn’t understand. All I knew was that my mother was gone, but I still had a grandfather. My letters went unanswered, he was suddenly too busy to be disturbed any time Father brought me for a visit. As I got older, I realized he had no interest in getting to know me. He wished I hadn’t been born.”

Noelle gasped. “Surely he would never wish—”

“He said so to my face,” Benjamin said flatly. “That was my mistake, too. When he invited me five years ago, I should have suspected a trap. It turned out, he’d learned of the locket. I was so eager to finally make peace, of course I handed it over when he asked for a closer look. That was the last time I saw it. Grandfather threw me out of the castle—”

“Threw out his own grandson?” she said in shock. “A duke?”

“I wasn’t a duke yet, and he didn’t give two figs about his grandson. He had what he wanted, and it wasn’t me.”

“That was… the day after our kiss?” she asked.

Benjamin nodded. “I never came back.”

“You weren’t allowed back.” Her eyes flashed. “Your grandfather wouldn’t let you.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Either way, I’ve come to regret it.”

She tilted her head. “You think things would have worked out differently if you had tried to visit your grandfather again?”

“Not him.” Benjamin stepped closer. “I regret all those years without seeing you. At the very least, we deserved a chance to say goodbye.”

“You didn’t get to say goodbye to your grandfather, either,” she said quietly.

“I’ve never gotten to say goodbye to anyone I care about.” His chest tightened at the barrage of memories. “I can’t let it happen again.”

She lowered her gaze. “That’s why you’re here.”

“Not the only reason.” He couldn’t stay away. That was the problem.

He was not used to making confessions of any kind. Had insulated himself on purpose so that he would not ever be in a position where he was expected to slice open his heart and bare what he kept inside.

With her, he felt even more vulnerable. But she was different. Noelle did not judge him or shower him with platitudes. She simply listened and understood.

He had never known how powerful such a simple act could be.

His heart thumped wildly against the back of her hand where she held the locket. The miniature inside was his most prized possession. Its protective gold housing symbolized not just family, but love.

The blank spots on the other side of his parents’ faces had been meant for a new family portrait. His own, perhaps. It was now destined to remain empty. He had vowed to never again risk his heart on something so fleeting as love or family, but if he ever were to do so…

He reached behind his neck and unclasped the chain.

The locket pooled into Noelle’s open palm and she glanced up at him, startled. “I didn’t mean for you to—”

Her words cut off as Benjamin reached behind her neck and reaffixed the clasp.

Now the locket lay not against his heart, but hers.

“Don’t give up on family,” she whispered.

“I’m not,” he answered and pulled her into his arms.

This kiss was different from all the others. Neither a claiming nor a submission, but a flaying open, a laying bare. This kiss was who he was. His hopes, his fears, his grief, his desire. He hoped he could make her understand.

Benjamin had not given up on his family. His grandfather had closed himself off. His parents had been stolen away to heaven. That was it. There was no one left to give up on. No reason for hope at all.

Noelle’s kisses had made him yearn for a happy ending. That a wish could come true, that vulnerability could bring joy instead of grief. That love did not merely have to be a symbol, but rather something real and true and lasting.

But he knew better.

When he broke the kiss, it was as if a piece of his heart broke with it. He had to get out of Cressmouth. Away from the false hope of endless Christmas. Everything about it reminded him of anger and loss. Everything except her.

He did not agree with Society’s view that an orphan like Noelle was beneath him and unworthy. But his feelings didn’t matter. As a duke, he was forced to operate within that society. To make deals and alliances. To uphold conventions and expectations.

He could promise her nothing but heartbreak.

“I can’t stay,” he whispered hoarsely.

She nodded. “I know. I’ve always known.”

“I never wanted to leave you,” he said hoarsely, lest she doubt the demons that drove him. “I had to leave this town. I still do. It reminds me…”

She reached up to caress his cheek.

He leaned into her warmth. “I have no good Christmas memories.”

“Until now.” She wrapped her hands around his neck. “Let’s make some new ones.”

His heart thumped and he crushed his mouth to hers.

Perhaps she was right. The past was the past. It was time to make new memories. Time to risk lowering his guard, if only for a moment.

Tonight was all they could ever have.

His blood raced. What would it be like to let go of all the old fear, all the shame and anger, and give himself over to the moment completely? Could exposing his heart bring more joy than he’d ever believed possible?

Or would making himself vulnerable to intimacy cut even deeper?