Christmas at Longbourn

by Karen Aminadra

  “Indeed,” he choked.

  It seemed to Mary that Mr Hodgson was having a much more difficult time concentrating on what they ought to be doing than she was. It made her want to giggle.

  He led them over to the desk in the outer office and pointed to ledgers and documents which curled up at the edges from being mishandled. “I’m afraid all of these papers and books need to be organised and filed. I just haven’t had the time.” He nervously rubbed at his forehead.

  “Do the papers go into the ledgers, Mr Hodgson?” Mary asked matter-of-factly.

  “Ahem,” he coughed to clear his throat, “why, yes, they do.”

  “Then they get filed on the shelves,” Kitty stifled a yawn.

  “Indeed,” Mr Hodgson broke out in a grin from ear to ear. “I must say, you are both most astute…for ladies, I mean.”

  Kitty looked taken aback at his comment, but Mary calmed the waters. “I have always observed that womenfolk are often greatly underestimated, Mr Hodgson.”

  He smiled nervously, not quite comprehending the slight to the two sisters, as Mary ploughed on, “Shall we make a start?”

  “Yes, yes.” Walter Hodgson rubbed his hands together as the two sisters neared the desk, peering at the chaos upon it. “Right.” He backed off towards the other office. Mary and Kitty ignored him.

  Kitty picked up a few pieces of paper with lacklustre enthusiasm.

  “Come now, Kitty,” Mary whispered in case Mr Hodgson could hear them. “The sooner we get a move on with this work, the quicker we can go home again.”

  “Or shopping?” Kitty’s face lit up.

  “Yes,” Mary agreed with more than a little reluctance. Her sister’s shopping habits were almost as costly as Lydia’s had been when she lived at home. “We can go shopping if we finish before the shops close for the day.”

  Her words seemed to put a spring in Kitty’s step, and she grasped at the papers before them, scanning them for information.

  “These have dates on the top,” Mary pointed out.

  “And these too.”

  “Good.” Mary pushed her glasses up her nose. “Now,” she continued as she picked up a ledger, “these have alphabet letters on the spines.”

  Kitty looked at her expectantly.

  “Therefore, I surmise, each letter or paper is dated, so they go in the ledgers in date order; then we have to check the client’s name and put them in the correct ledger.” She beamed victoriously. Kitty still looked blank. “Look, I’ll show you.” Mary picked up the first letter on the top of the pile and began to show Kitty how the files were organised.

  It did not take long before the desk was cleared and the ledgers were put away, back on the shelves.

  “Walter,” Kitty called out as she picked up her gloves and reached for her bonnet.

  “Oh, good, ladies,” Mr Hodgson appeared at the door. “You’ve finished already. I must say that is remarkable.” He staggered towards them with his arms full of papers and deposited them upon the mahogany desk. He immediately turned around and returned to the office only to appear moments later carrying the largest stack of accounts ledgers either of the sisters had ever seen. “Here we go,” he groaned as he placed the books carefully down upon the desk next to the pile of papers which had now spilled over onto the floor. “If you would just be so kind as to work your special kind of magic on these too, then we can call it a day.” Happily he returned from whence he came.

  Kitty stood agog staring at the pile on the desk, which was larger than before.

  Mary glanced out of the window to see the shadows lengthening. “I believe the hour is getting late, Kitty.”

  Sulkily her sister replied, “We can forget going shopping, Mary.”

  “Indeed,” Mary sighed and picked up one of the papers that had fallen upon the floor. “I believe we have many hours ahead of us, Kitty.”

  Chapter Nine

  Over the following few days, Kitty and Mary were able to walk into town and assist their uncle’s clerk regularly. To Kitty, the days seemed to stretch on interminably with very little respite or time for amusement. Mary, on the other hand, Kitty observed, appeared to be quite content with their work and even on occasion looked as though she enjoyed it. One thing that Kitty had not banked on was finding Walter Hodgson to be an amusing sort of fellow. The three of them fast became friends rather than acquaintances.

  Slowly but surely, the attorney’s office turned from looking as though a bull had rampaged through it to having some sort of order. There was a slight satisfaction to their task, Kitty had to admit, although if Mary had not suggested it, she would never have volunteered to do such a thing in a hundred years. They put a system in place where Mary would sort all the papers in date order for each case, and then Kitty would place them all with the relevant ledgers and back on the bookshelves. Walter was extremely grateful to them both for their help and, making them both giggle at him, he would often thank them multiple times each hour. She was surprised to find that Walter and Mary had many things in common, especially a love of reading what Kitty termed serious books. The office’s coal-burning stove offered them heat and a place upon which to make hot tea to keep their spirits up and their bodies warm. All in all, despite the tedium and repetitiveness of it all, Kitty had to admit it was good to have something to occupy her mind with other than dwelling incessantly upon her recent disappointment.

  One afternoon, as the sky turned grey and threatened to divulge more snow upon them, Kitty noticed something that made her stomach knot and tears spring to her eyes. Kitty was alone in the outer office, although she could clearly see Mary and Walter through the open doorway into the back office. As Kitty watched, frozen to the spot, she could see that Mary’s face was a deep crimson colour and the pair talked in hushed tones. Before her eyes, as though moving slowly and time was coming to a standstill, Walter reached out with his left hand and caught up a stray strand of hair that had come out of its coiffure and tucked it neatly behind Mary’s ear. Kitty’s heart stopped and she could not breathe. Mary’s crimson face grew a deeper shade and her brown eyes widened as she stared into the eyes of the man who paid her such a romantic attention. Then, to Kitty’s astonishment, Walter passed Mary what looked to be a letter of some kind. Mary smiled and hastily pushed the letter into the pocket of her skirt. Kitty felt as though she had taken a blow to the stomach. All the wind was knocked out of her and a tear rolled down her cheek. Quickly she turned away so neither of them would notice she had been watching them or that she was crying. She hated to feel this way; she ought to be happy for Mary if she had found love. She stepped over to the stove and checked the amount of water in the kettle, unwittingly holding the iron handle without using the potholder cloth. “Ouch,” she gasped, hoping neither Mary nor Walter heard her. Bitterly she thought, At least now I have a reason to cry. Look at those blisters forming on my fingers! Kitty picked up the potholder cloth with her left hand and poured the hot liquid from it into the teapot, hoping there would be enough for them all. As she replaced the teapot lid, she wondered, Why? Why can all of my sisters find someone to love them and I cannot? What is so wrong with me?

  The sound of the china lid upon the pot brought Mary and Walter, still red-faced, into the outer office.

  “Kitty,” Mary declared, ever one to notice even the smallest change in a person, “whatever is the matter?” To Kitty’s frustration, Mary rushed forward and took hold of her hands. Her eyes took in her tear-soaked face. “You’ve been crying.”

  “No,” Kitty lied and then shrugged her shoulders. “Well, yes, I have.” She held out her hand for them both to see. “I touched the kettle without the cloth to protect my hand.”

  “Oh!” Mary declared enfolding her in an unexpected embrace. “Quickly, let’s go outside and put your fingers in the snow. That will help with the burning pain.”

  Quietly, Kitty did as her older sister bade her do. She was now in no mood to resist anyway. As Mary gently placed snow onto Kitty’s hand, not minding th
at her own fingers went instantly pink with the coldness, Kitty studied her face. Mary, in her opinion, was not overly pretty; in fact, Kitty thought her plain and always had. But in that moment, Kitty could see a glow to her face, a glow that had never been there before. Is Mary in love with Walter? she wondered. Her stomach lurched. Is Walter in love with Mary? It was too much for Kitty to bear, and she began silently to weep.

  “Oh, my dear sister, have I hurt you further?”

  Mary’s concerned expression made Kitty feel piteous. She did not want pity at all. “No, I’m just feeling sorry for myself.” Her voice was small and quiet, and she had not realised Walter had followed them outside until he spoke.

  “Never mind. We’ve all done it at one time or another. There’s no need to feel sorry for yourself. In fact, I did it at the beginning of the year…”

  Kitty looked up at his face and saw an honest-looking, kind man gazing back at her. Why can’t I have such a man for myself? she asked.

  “…I was walking past the stove with my arms full, as usual,” he continued, “when I lost my footing briefly and leant upon it to stop myself from falling. The blistering on my hand was there for weeks.” He held his right hand out for Kitty and Mary to examine. “Look, you can still see a little scarring.” There upon the pink flesh, atop the deep blue veins and downy hairs, was a faint pink scar, crescent moon-like in shape. “Although yours are much smaller, Kitty,” he smiled genuinely at her, “so I doubt very much whether they will leave their mark.”

  Kitty smiled back at him wanly, wondering if either of them truly guessed the reason she was wounded.

  Chapter Ten

  Mrs Bennet saw an opportunity for entertainment. Kitty, of course, did not hesitate in encouraging her, and so, three days later, Mrs Bennet decided to hold an evening party. She took advantage of the temporary lull in the wintry storms to send out invitations and to arrange for the food and drink. Everyone was hopeful that the weather would remain clement until after the Christmas festivities had passed. Mrs Bennet did not care a jot for the inconvenience to the tradesfolk or to the servants in trudging through snow that was still knee-high in some places; she wanted entertaining and she was going to get it. She believed the cancellation of the ball at the Assembly rooms was scandalous and felt it incumbent upon her to do something about it. Kitty enjoyed it all. It gave her something to occupy her mind. Before long, Longbourn House was in uproar as the servants ran hither and thither attending to the preparations.

  Thankfully, all the invitees were also tired of being trapped indoors by the icy and snowy weather and were all more than willing to take up the Bennets’ invitation to party.

  Kitty stood with her sister Mary at the upstairs landing window and watched as all the converted carriages began to arrive, their excitement mounting with each passing moment.

  “I do not believe I have ever been so happy to see so many people arrive at Longbourn after such terribly ferocious weather,” Kitty exclaimed, pleased to feel that she was finally beginning to be happier.

  “I agree. There is something magical about carriages converted with sleigh-runners. It is a perfect seasonal image, to be sure.”

  Kitty nodded. “I wish we could freeze this moment and sketch it. How lovely it would be to gaze upon such pictures.”

  Together they watched as their friends and acquaintances arrived, the convoy of sleighs slowly petering out. Kitty’s countenance changed and she sighed heavily. “Shall we go downstairs and greet our guests?”

  “You are not overly inclined to make merry, are you?” Mary turned to face her.

  “It’s not that…” The candlelight danced in her eyes. “I do not wish to hear people talking about Lydia and Sir Percival all the night long.”

  “It still hurts. I understand.” Mary reached out and placed her hand upon Kitty’s arm, her face a picture of heartfelt concern.

  Again, Mary’s compassion surprised Kitty. She felt more than a little ashamed of herself for always overlooking her older sister and frequently ridiculing her together with Lydia. “I want to celebrate Christmas. I want to enjoy the party. Truly I do. But what will people think of me?” Her eyes welled with tears.

  Mary smiled kindly. “Who cares what people think of you, Kitty?”

  “I do. I care a lot. I fear I shall be the spinster of the family, Mary.” She hung her head and tried not to allow the pain to make her cry. She had never known despair like it.

  “Nonsense!”

  Kitty felt Mary’s gentle touch upon her shoulder.

  “You are a bright, spritely girl. I have always admired your energy and vivacity. You shall rally again. I am certain.”

  Kitty could not prevent the tears welling in her eyes as she stared at Mary. “Thank you.” She reached out and kissed her sister on the cheek, something she was not certain she had done since they were young children.

  “Let’s go downstairs and see who has come. I believe Lizzy and Mr Darcy, Jane and Mr Bingley with their children are staying overnight.” Mary commented as they made their way down the stairs.

  “Yes, they are. Perhaps if it all becomes too much for me, I can escape to the nursery and watch our nephews sleeping.”

  Mary smiled and nodded. “It is strange, is it not, that Mama and Papa had only girls and yet, so far, they have three grandsons.”

  “A mystery,” Kitty grinned. “I know nothing of the matter!”

  “I believe it is God’s blessing. Perhaps he decides…” They let the matter go and entered the already bustling drawing room.

  Already the room was filled with people. All the candles and candleholders were lit, and Kitty gasped at how bright the room was as she squinted. The sound of chatter was deafening. Yes, the party was a good idea, she thought, feeling happier already. Mary slipped past her and made her way straight to the pianoforte, where she began to play a Christmas tune. Kitty smiled. Some things were always predictable. She, on the other hand, made a beeline directly for Jane and Mr Bingley.

  “Kitty, how pretty you look this evening.” Jane’s eyes lit up with delight. “I like your hair dressed in that fashion.”

  Kitty raised her hands to her hair and patted it gently. She had experimented with a slightly different style she had seen on a fashion plate and was pleased to be complimented on it. “Thank you, Jane.” She kissed her on the cheek and curtseyed to Mr Bingley. “I wanted something different.”

  “It is very fetching, Kitty,” Mr Bingley beamed at her. “Are you well?” he asked, his eyes opening wide. He was not very good at hiding his meaning, but it made Kitty fonder of him because of it.

  She felt her cheeks grow red but kept her composure. “Better than I was, thank you, Charles.”

  “Good! Good!” he declared. “For a while we were worried about you. We thought a visit with your Aunt and Uncle Gardner in London would be the thing.”

  Kitty smiled back at him. She liked him enormously. He was a very kindly man and a good friend and ally to have around. “Thank you for the thought, but being in London and near Lydia would be the last thing I want at the moment, don’t you think?”

  He looked discomfited as though that thought had not occurred to him, and his face reddened. “Yes, perhaps you are right.”

  “How is little Charles?” She deftly changed the subject.

  “Fast asleep, I hope,” Jane quipped. “The little man keeps me awake at all hours. Still, he is a treasure.” She smiled up at her husband.

  “That he is.” Mr Bingley grinned down at his wife, and Kitty’s heart lurched, yearning for someone to look at her the way they looked at each other.

  For a moment she thought she would cry again at seeing the love that was evident between the two of them. “I shall go and see him before I go to bed,” she said. “I would so like to gaze upon him as he sleeps.”

  “Oh!” Jane sighed and nodded at her. “He is so beautiful and peaceful when he sleeps. He looks like an angel.”

  Kitty grinned at her eldest sister. She was certain
what she said was true. A babe asleep always looked angelic. Motherhood certainly became Jane and seemed to improve upon her natural beauty.

  “Do you plan to dance this evening, Kitty?” Mr Bingley asked bringing her out of her reverie.

  “I had not given it much thought, Mr Bingley.” She blinked rapidly, endeavouring to focus on what he said to her.

  “You usually love to dance, Kitty.” Jane looked concerned.

  “Perhaps, if you want to dance, of course,” Mr Bingley’s face shone with happiness, “and you are willing, I would be honoured to join you.”

  Kitty blushed. She appreciated his offer, and again she was struck by his kindness. “Thank you, Mr Bingley. You are kind.”

  He lowered his head towards her and whispered, “You’re welcome. And please remember to call me Charles; we’re family.”

  Kitty knew his words meant more than that. Mr Bingley never permitted Lydia to call him Charles, and he had even corrected her before her marriage to Sir Percival when she had called him thus. Kitty realised he truly was fond of her, and her throat constricted with emotion. “Very well, Charles. If I should feel like a dance, I shall call upon you.”

  “Good!” he declared and rubbed his hands together.

  Kitty turned around and surveyed the room. It was so full of people now that they spilled out into the entrance hall. She knew that finger foods were on the table in the dining room and there were bound to be people in there too. She wondered how and if they truly knew this many families.

  Seated near the fireplace were the Phillipses, together with their clerk, Walter Hodgson. Uncle Phillips’ leg was tightly wound in linen strips and elevated upon a stool, but it still looked enormously large compared to his other one. Kitty winced. He must be in an awful amount of pain. Kitty watched Walter survey the room. He was clearly looking for someone. Kitty thought it might be Mary. He was a tall, thin, pleasant-looking young man, with a ready smile for anyone who caught his eye. Kitty believed it was the first time he had ever been invited to Longbourn. She knew for certain she had never seen him outside of her Uncle Phillips’ offices.