“Rosie says I shouldn’t have said ‘yes,’” said Marigold, folding her arms.  It was just after tea on Second Yule, and she and Tom—her betrothed, how wonderful the word sounded!—had finally gotten half a minute to themselves.

Well, mostly to themselves, because apparently betrothed couples were subject to even more scrutiny than courting ones, even if they could get away with more…

Marigold wondered whether she could get away with carrying a bit of dried mistletoe around in her pocket, or if that stopped working sometime after Yule.

“Pah!” said Tom.  “She’s just being a stick-in-the-mud.  Anyhow, things worked out for her well enough, didn’t they?”

“Things won’t be ‘well enough’ for Rosie till she’s married to Sam and pregnant by Sam, and you know it.”

Tom winced.  “Mari!  I know we’re all grown now, but she’s still my little sister!”

“Yes, and Sam is being quite level-headed considering I’m his little sister and I’m one step closer to that than she is.  Anyhow, Rosie said that she and Sam were talking, afore you asked me, so things would’ve worked out sooner if you’d put it off and asked me proper.”

“I was asking you proper!”

“To remind Sam what he was missing out on!”

“Fine,” sniffed Tom.  “If that’s how you want it, I didn’t want to marry you anyway!”

Marigold giggled and poked him on the nose.  “You’re a terrible liar, Tom.”

He caught her hand before she could pull it away.  “You’re not that worried, are you, Mari?” he said at last, his face serious.

“Not really, no, as long as you weren’t just saying it for them.”

Tom laughed.  “No.  I may have cooked up that plan thinking of Sam, but when I spoke, it was only you as was on my mind.”

“Good,” said Marigold.  “That’s settled then.”  She smiled.  “Rose is a dear, but that doesn’t mean I can’t make her jealous…”

Tom took something out of his pocket.  “Care to make her a little jealouser, then?”

It was mistletoe.