Chapter Four: The Present

"He didn't invite you, did he?"

Adamanta did not like the smug tone in her cousin's voice. She put the last fork into the drawer and glanced out of the kitchen window, heaving a heavy sigh. Rain splattered against the glass, wind bent the trees and sent the red and orange leaves flying. Grey clouds further darkened the already gloomy autumn evening.

Adamanta could not help thinking of Brandy Hall. She had never seen the huge smial inside Buck Hill, but somehow she knew the splendidly decorated rooms would be filled with light and merriment. The Master's youngest son celebrated his coming of age tonight, but she was not among the guests.

Violet stepped beside her and followed her glance. "I told you he'd disappoint you."

Adamanta glared at Violet, her frustration turning to anger in light of the fact that the younger appeared to have been right. For a moment, Violet faced her cousin's ire smugly, but then lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, love."

"Mantha!" Adamanta turned at her aunt's excited call. Camelia Grubb hurried into the room, a bustle of voluminous skirts. Her face was all smiles. "I didn't know you had a sweetheart here in Buckland. Handsome lad, good manners. Too bad he didn't want to come in." She turned to her daughter. "If only my Vi could find someone so agreeable."

"Merimac was here?" Adamanta cried, stopping her aunt's flood of words. Sadness and resentment evaporated into exuberant joy.

"That was Master Merimac?" Aunt Camelia furrowed her brow, concentrating. "Well, now that you mention it, beneath that huge cloak he did look very much like the young Master. The poor lad was soaked through and in a hurry from the tone in his voice, but he left you this."

Her aunt handed her a small parcel wrapped in crimson fabric and bound with golden cord. Adamanta grinned at her cousin before she thanked her aunt. Package in her hand and Violet at her heels, Adamanta hurried to their room.

"So he is going to disappoint me?" Adamanta mocked her cousin. "He is no good. I deserve better."

Violet closed the door behind her and shrugged. "He might have grown up a little since I met him last but…"

"But you had better shut your mouth before you say anything you regret."

Violet was appalled. "You would take his word over mine?"

This time it was Adamanta's turn to shrug. "That depends on what you said."

Adamanta had not thought her cousin could be so easily offended. Crossing her arms in front of her chest, Violet plopped down on her bed and sent unfriendly looks her way. Adamanta rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on, Violet! Don't be such a spoilsport!"

"Spoilsport?" Violet snorted. "What would you do if your cousin kept talking about some daft hobbit for months?"

"He isn't daft!"

"Oh no, of course he isn't!" Violet mocked. "He is decent, mysterious, and, oh, so wonderful! Well, what are you still doing here, then? Go to your fantastic Merimac, but don't bother me about it. I don't care to hear any more about him. In fact, I never cared to at all!"

"I might just do that!" Adamanta told her coldly. "He is far better company than you."

"Go on, do as he pleases!" the younger shot back. "That's what he wanted all along anyhow! Fall victim to his charms and you will see how quickly you're forgotten. But when you're down in the pits don't come to me for comfort; I told you all along."

With that, Violet turned her back on her, and that was fortunate, for Adamanta did not know how much more she could have borne without lashing back. She was crushed that her cousin was not happy for her and could only insult the one she had lost her heart to. Clutching Merimac's present to her bosom, she went stiffly out of the room. There she leaned heavily against the wall and waited for the tumult within her to quiet.

She looked at Merimac's present, turning it carefully in her hand like some fragile treasure and smiling despite the evening's events. He had thought of her after all. This parcel was proof he cared for her no matter what Violet might say. Adamanta heaved a sigh of relief feeling a load she had not known had been there dropping from her heart. She could trust his words and perhaps give herself wholly to what Merimac stirred within her.

Stuffing the parcel securely in her skirt's pocket, Adamanta straightened and after one last look at the door behind her, she shook her head and went into the parlour to sit with her aunt and uncle.

Camelia assured her that Violet would calm down and get over it eventually.

"It's hard for her," her aunt said. "She hasn't met any decent lad, as far as I know, and to see you with the Master's young son, well, I suppose she's feeling left out of things."

Adamanta nodded but did not reply. Her mind was busy thinking of ways to prolong her stay in Buckland. It had seemed foolish to build up her hopes for such a brief visit, but now that she had a proof that her feelings were not one-sided, she did not want to waste a second. It was so unfair that they had only a couple of days left. If she could but stay a few more weeks!

*******

Adamanta had longed to unwrap the present ever since her aunt gave it to her, but felt that she must be alone when she did so. She waited until after midnight. Violet was fast asleep and she was alone with the silent flicker of a single candle.

Almost affectionately, she took the parcel from her pocket and carefully untied the golden cord. The soft, red fabric slipped down to reveal a small, polished box of dark cherry wood. Adamanta held her breath, savouring the anticipation before daring to open the brass twist lock. When she lifted the lid, she gasped. Inside the box were two carefully folded, dark blue, silken ribbons. She hardly dared to touch them, they were so fine. Tears welled up inside her. She had needed new ribbons. Her old ones were hardly of any use anymore, as battered and faded as they were. That Merimac would notice such a detail and buy her new ones was beyond imagining.

The gift suggested Merimac was far from the insensitive and irresponsible hobbit folk regarded him as. In fact, it said he cared more than even she had thought. She needed to see him again. She would go to Brandy Hall tomorrow, even if only to give him a most painful farewell.

~*~*~

Merimac brought the hammer onto the dowel with a grunt. It was a fresh autumn morning, the last dewdrops had dried in the sun and a thin mist covered the meadows south of Brandy Hall. A few strands of barely combed hair hung damp into Merimac's face. He was tired and sore, and all because of his father. It was customary for the Master to give presents to the byrding and Rorimac's present to him had been an entire bottle of Buckland's best brandy. Of course, his father had probably intended the bottle to last longer than the birthday had. But unfortunately for Merimac, his brother, cousins, closest friends and he had drunk it all during the course of the night. Merimac had awoken with the most dreadful hangover.

"Replace the rotten dowels yourself," his father had said. "The cool air and hard work will help clear your head."

All they did was make things worse. A thousand hammers seemed to echo every beat of his. Only three more to do, but each seemed an insurmountable obstacle. At least he could rest after luncheon. And he would not lift a finger when he did. Dropping his tool, he brushed the sweat from his brow and tested the footing.

"That was a wonderful present, Master Brandybuck."

He turned around with a start to find Adamanta standing before him. She was clad in a dark blue skirt, a bodice of an almost brownish yellow, and a blue shawl wrapped around her shoulders. In the pale light of the late morning, with mist curling around her feet, she was stunningly beautiful. It took Merimac a moment to realise he was ogling her and another one to become conscious of what he must have looked like this morning; more some stable hand than the Master's son.

"Adamanta," he greeted clearing his throat to sound at least a little like himself. "You're wearing them!"

That was not quite what he had intended to say. 'Good morning' or 'what are you doing here?' were much closer to what he had had in mind, but seeing his ribbons carefully braided into her hair had diverted this attention.

She blushed and gifted him with a shy smile. "One of them, yes."

Merimac held his breath for, unexpectedly, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek and whispered a quiet 'thank you' into his ear. His heart skipped a beat and he was glad that the hammer was no longer in his hand for he was sure he would have dropped it. An excited shiver ran down his spine. He had not realised how much he had longed for Adamanta's kiss and could not keep a grin from claiming his face. If he had ever received a better response to one of his presents he could not remember it. Indeed, this reward was worth the price of talking to his mother and begging for Sally's help.

Adamanta seemed as surprised as Merimac and a bright blush rose to colour her cheeks. Forgetting his former awkwardness and the headache, he raised an eyebrow. "I thought you weren't going to fall for my charms."

"I didn't," said Adamanta quickly, but her blush deepened when she saw the smug grin on his face. "Well, not quite. It's just a thank you and," she hesitated, "and a goodbye."

Merimac felt his smile fade. "I thought you were going to stay."

Adamanta shook her head. "I'm afraid not this time. I'm sorry; but I promise to be back at Yule."

Merimac did not know what to say. He was crestfallen. Yule was nothing to him. He wanted her here now and he was about to tell her so when Adamanta suddenly took his left hand into hers and produced the second ribbon from her skirt's pocket.

"What are you doing?" he asked as she fastened it around his wrist.

"I have learned a lot about you this past summer, though I still hardly know you. People say you're a scoundrel, but I'm not so sure anymore." She smiled, albeit sadly. "I will return at Yule but I shall not come to you unless I see you wearing this." She looked up at him, her eyes pleading. "Don't put it on if you aren't serious, Master Brandybuck."

Merimac frowned, gazing first at the ribbon then at her. "So, you want me to make a fool of myself?" It was meant as a joke, but the pain he felt at her leaving made his voice harsher than he intended.

"Not at all," Adamanta quickly assured and averted her eyes. "I just…" Merimac could not make out the mumbled words but they sounded suspiciously like 'want to be sure'.

His confusion must have shown in his face, for after an uncomfortably long silence, she grinned weakly. "I told you before that I'm not like other lasses, though I'm not without…," She broke off and shook her head. "I leave it to you whether we will meet again."

Merimac was silent. Disappointment welled up inside him as did anger and even fear of what her words suggested. "You're expecting quite a lot," he said trying to sound cheerful.

"No more than I would of any other lad who courted me."

"I wasn't courting!" Merimac told her, but regretted his words immediately. He did want her to stay, but he had a sudden feeling of being trapped, unable to get away. He didn't want to push her from him, but he wasn't yet ready for her to be so close either.

He looked into her doubtful face, suddenly feeling guilty and helpless. "I… well… I at least hoped I wasn't." Merimac stammered trying to salvage his comment. "A friend of mine is courting a girl right now and making a complete fool of himself. My brother was no better. If that is the only way to win a girl's heart, no thank you."

"You don't want to, then?" Her voice was insecure and her eyes, which sought his, were slightly troubled. Merimac fidgeted, almost pained by the way she looked at him, and finally averted his eyes.

Once again an uncomfortable silence grew between them and it was Merimac who ventured to break it, though hesitatingly. "May I write you?"

Adamanta's face brightened. "Whenever you wish, Master Brandybuck."

Merimac felt his heart beating faster and he found an answering smile on her lips. "Please," he said, "Call me Mac. Master Brandybuck makes me feel so old - like my father."

Adamanta nodded, chuckling. "Farewell, then, Mac."

She looked at him for a very long moment, as if pondering her next move, then turned around and hurried away northwards. Merimac watched her until she was almost out of sight feeling suddenly sad and empty. His eyes wandered to the ribbon on his wrist and the memory of her slender fingers tying it there.

"I leave it to you whether we will meet again."