Christmas at Longbourn

by Karen Aminadra

  All eyes turned back to Walter who shrank beneath the scrutiny. “I…” he fortified himself with a swig of the brandy. “I studied to be an apothecary.”

  A collective “Ah!” passed its way around the room.

  “And why do you not practice?” Kitty asked.

  Walter sighed and looked down at the worn rug beneath his feet. “I never finished my studies.”

  “Oh, I am sorry,” Kitty muttered and watched as Mary and Walter locked eyes. She could see from Mary’s expression that she was feeling sorrowful and knew all about it.

  “Whyever not, man?” Mr Bingley chimed in. “You evidently have a knack for it.”

  Everyone agreed and Walter blushed. “I was unable to finish my studies.”

  Mr Collins returned at that point and made a fuss of giving Charlotte some soup. Walter, Kitty could see, was relieved. She decided to avert the subject. “Please do try the soup, everyone. You all must be famished. Hill makes a wonderful loaf of bread too.”

  But it was to no avail. “Come on, young man. Tell us what happened. The soup can wait.” Sir Lucas was having none of it. He clearly wanted all the details, whether they were painful to Walter or not.

  “Circumstances meant that I had to relinquish my studies.” He seemed to shrink before Kitty’s eyes.

  “Why?” Mr Collins’ interest was now piqued.

  “Erm…” Walter’s face could not have grown any redder. Kitty was sorry for him. She wished she had not pressed him at all. Everyone in the room had their eyes firmly upon him. No one was going to change the subject without knowing what had prevented Walter from finishing his studies. “I… sadly, my mother fell ill.” Suddenly the words came tumbling out. “My father is a bank clerk in London and insisted that I go to university to study. I was doing so very well, and I thoroughly enjoyed my time there.” He smiled as he remembered. “But before I could finish, my mother became ill. We had to pay for expensive medical treatment. She needed the best.” He swallowed hard. “She deserved the best. So I volunteered to give up on my studies and take a paying job so that mother could see the best physicians in London.”

  More than one person gasped.

  “My father was acquainted with Mr Phillips, and within a week I had a job here in Meryton. It was my pleasure and honour to send back money to pay the medical bills.” He fell silent.

  “What happened?” Jane whispered breaking the silence.

  “She died.” Walter’s voice cracked with emotion, and Kitty saw Mary rise a little in her chair as though she would go to him and then sit back down as it was not proper.

  After a moment’s silence, Mr Bingley spoke up. “Do you plan to go back to your studies?”

  “I do not see how I can now.” He looked sad and dejected.

  “You are full of surprises, aren’t you, young man?” Mr Bennet was watching him pointedly.

  “Why can you not?” Mr Bingley looked perplexed. “Surely you can put aside some money each month and then, when you have enough, you can go back to your studies.”

  Walter looked so uncomfortable that Kitty felt for him. She glanced at her mother to see her eyes open and staring at Walter. “It is not as simple as that.” He shifted his position on the settee. “I…there is a lady involved.”

  “A lady?” Mr Bingley grinned. “Well,” he clapped his hands together. “I am certain she will not mind a little hardship while you study. When are you to be married?”

  Walter looked crestfallen. Kitty wished she could do something to help. She could see tears on the rims of Mary’s eyes. “Her father refused permission,” was all Walter said. The silence in the room was tangible and stretched on for what seemed an eternity.

  “But you are such an amiable fellow. What could possibly have been the exception?”

  Mary fled the room, and Walter stood up as though to follow her.

  “Oh, I see.” Mr Bingley stared at the open door Mary had fled through. “No,” he shook his head. “I do not see at all.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Mary was in bed feigning sleep when Kitty slipped into the room some thirty minutes later. She could hear her sibling changing her clothing and preparing for bed, and she wondered where everyone else was going to sleep. She did not truly care. She was heartbroken. She felt humiliated to have her feelings and Walter’s family life so inelegantly displayed to all their acquaintance in one fell swoop.

  Mary felt the bed dip as Kitty slipped in between the covers.

  “Are you awake, Mary?” she whispered, knowing full well that she had made sufficient noise to have woken the light sleeper.

  “Yes, I am awake,” Mary kept her eyes tightly shut.

  “I am so sorry. I was curious about how Walter knew so much about medicines, and I did not realise what would follow.”

  “What does it signify?” A tear slipped out from underneath Mary’s eyelashes. “He was humiliated. Did you not see that?”

  “Yes, I did. I am sorry.”

  “I wish I could marry him. Even Mr Bingley said he was as good a fellow as any he knew.” Mary sniffed back more tears that threatened to overtake her.

  “Yes, he did. Mr Bingley was greatly taken with Walter’s ability. As, I believe, we all are.” Mary felt Kitty’s fingers run through her hair. “I truly wish I could do something to fix this, Mary.”

  “It does not matter—”

  “But it does!”

  “Go to sleep, Kitty.”

  Mary knew Kitty was not happy at having the conversation cut short, but she knew she would understand.

  “I did not realise you would be hurting as much as I had.” Kitty turned over, her back towards Mary.

  Mary opened her eyes and stared at the back of her sister’s head for some time before sleep finally caught up with her.

  When she awoke, it was Christmas Day and the fire in the grate had been relit. The room was warm, and daylight poked through the cracks in the curtains. She stretched languidly, smiling to herself that it was Christmas, until reality crashed in on her and she remembered with full force the conversation in the drawing room just a few hours beforehand. She felt sick to her stomach, turned over, and tried to go back to sleep. How am I to face them all this morning? she asked herself.

  It was another hour before Kitty woke up and Mary had fallen off to sleep.

  “Wake up, Mary. It’s Christmas Day!”

  Usually this declaration would make Mary the happiest person in the world, but today she did not care for it. Walter was humiliated, and she was denied the opportunity to be his bride. Life was unfair and cruel. She could not see a solution to their situation. She thought on it for a moment and surmised that Walter would likely go back and finish his studies. She would remain at home, a maid. “That is how I shall end my days,” she whispered.

  “What did you say?” Kitty was sitting up in bed now.

  “Nothing.” Mary did not want to begin that conversation all again.

  “Do you think we should dress well for today or as usual?” Kitty swung her legs over the side of the bed.

  “As usual, I suppose. Everyone else is in borrowed clothes.”

  Kitty burst out laughing. “I know! Did you see Sir Lucas in Papa’s breeches? They were fairly bursting at the seams.”

  Mary could not resist smiling at the memory.

  “And Mr Collins had to keep pulling his up.” She covered her mouth with her hand.

  “Yes. I believe they are Mr Darcy’s, and they are far too long for him.” Mary sat up feeling a little better. Kitty always had a knack of making her laugh at the world. “Let’s simply dress as usual. There is no need to stand on ceremony today.”

  “You are right.” Kitty slipped off the bed and made her way to the wardrobe. “Can I borrow something? Sir and Lady Lucas are in my room.”

  “Of course. Take your pick.” Mary did not care what she chose; she knew her dresses were not to Kitty’s liking anyway, so she ought to choose the one she felt was the least ugly of them all.

/>   Mary waited until Kitty had chosen, and then she herself slipped out of bed and crossed the floor to the armoire. She cared not what dress she wore, but because of Kitty’s rummaging, a plain pale green dress was unearthed. Mary had not worn that in a long time. The sleeves were long and the high neck had a beautiful piece of lace on it. Yes, she decided, that’s the one.

  “Oh, Mary. That colour becomes you very well.” Kitty smiled at her adoringly.

  “It is old,” Mary shrugged off the comment.

  “Still, you ought to wear pale green more often.”

  Kitty continued to try to elicit a smile from Mary, but she was in no mood. “What does it signify what I wear? No one ever pays much attention to an old maid in the room. She is merely the chaperone for those more fortunate than she.”

  “Mary, do not be like that.” Kitty crossed the room and embraced her. Mary was uncomfortable with such shows of affection, but had to admit that it felt good. “Look at me,” Kitty continued. “I am unmarried, as you see, and I am beginning to recover from the hurt. You shall rally in time too.”

  Mary shook her head. “But Kitty, that is just it. I do not want to rally. I would much rather be Walter’s wife than rally and resign myself to a life without him.” She sighed. “And what is worse, one day I run the risk of running into the happy woman who will be able to marry him. How my heart will break on that day!”

  Again Kitty embraced her. “Come now. It is Christmas Day. Mama is well, for I have heard her voice already,” she giggled. “We have a house filled with our friends and family, and for now at least, you may enjoy the company of Walter Hodgson as much as you like.”

  Mary smiled weakly. Kitty was right.

  “Perhaps we ought to pray for another snowstorm today so that Walter cannot return to Meryton and must remain another day.” Kitty’s laughter was catching, and Mary had to laugh too at her suggestion. Deep down in Mary’s heart, she actually said such a prayer all the same.

  As the sisters descended the stairs together and entered the dining room for breakfast, they found it in disarray. Chairs from all manner of places around the house had been drafted in to squeeze around the table, which itself had been extended with an extra leaf in the middle.

  “It looks as though we shall have to eat elbow to elbow,” Mary whispered.

  Kitty leant her mouth closer to Mary’s ear. “Then make haste and sit next to Walter so your elbows will be most agreeably engaged throughout breakfast!”

  This time Mary did giggle, but did precisely as Kitty suggested. Walter’s colour rose as he saw Mary. It was evident that his emotions were mixed. If Mary had to guess, she would say that they were a mixture between embarrassment and pleasure at being in such close proximity to her. She also knew that her action in seeking him out would not have gone unnoticed, either by him or by the other occupants of the room. She leant towards him as he passed her the plate with hot toast and whispered, “I have a present for you upstairs. It is not quite finished, but I hope to be able to do so today.”

  Walter’s rosy cheeks deepened in their intensity. “Thank you, Mary.” He nudged the butter tray towards her too.

  Mary reached out and began to butter a slice of toast. All of a sudden, her throat was dry and her appetite had abandoned her. She knew the root cause of it. Walter’s proximity had produced such an effect upon her that she was only vaguely aware that there were other people in the room. Mary glanced up and saw Jane and Lizzy smirking in their direction. She blushed under their gaze. She was more than content. The two of them continued to eat in silence, their elbows doing most of the talking.

  When breakfast was finally at an end, Mary reluctantly rushed back to her room to finish the gift she had made for Walter. She was not skilled in such a craft, but she had managed to take all the beautiful leaves of drawings he had bestowed upon her over the previous few weeks and had bound them so prettily into a little book. In the corner on the front of an old piece of leather she used as the cover, she had inscribed their initials W and M entwined. She hoped with all her heart that he liked his gift. She worried that he would think she was returning the wonderful illustrations he had made for her, but she was not. She was giving them to him, in her opinion, lovingly improved and protected. If he wanted her to keep them, as a memento of their time together, she would be more than happy and willing to do so.

  By the time she had finished, she was being called from downstairs to come to the drawing room. It was a beautiful tradition that most families held, if they could, of exchanging gifts on Christmas Day. The Bennets would usually make something for each other or buy something like ribbons or lace from which something could be made, as money was often scarce growing up. Mary tried to slip into the room, but her hands were full with all the gifts she had to bestow. She looked around the room as she sought out her usual place and stowed the presents underneath the chair. She was disheartened that there were people present who would not receive a gift as they were overnight guests. Mary looked, for admittedly the first time that day, out of the window. The snow was still falling albeit much slower than it was last night. There would be no travelling home today for their guests. She caught Kitty’s eyes and her younger sister grinned and nodded at the windows. She realised the same thing and she was right; it meant Mary would spend more time with Walter.

  Mrs Bennet insisted on going first. Her voice was scratchy as though she had a cold and she was subdued, which was unusual; however, she seemed to be laughing and joking well enough that all Mary’s fears were allayed. To everyone’s surprise, Mrs Bennet gave gifts of preserves, baked goods, and off-cuts of ribbon and lace from her own vast collection to all those present that had no gift for Christmas.

  “Now, I want no thanking!” She waved her hand out of the thick blankets she was still wrapped in as Mr Bennet did the honours and handed out the presents. “You are all our dearest friends and family. You cannot be empty-handed on Christmas Day. It is our pleasure to have you with us.”

  Mary looked at Kitty and raised her eyebrows. What can have effected such a change in Mama? she wondered.

  The morning passed wonderfully. Little Charles Bingley and little William Darcy received the most presents, most of which were newly made items of clothing.

  “Such a bounty,” Jane declared. “With such a young babe, we are forever having to change him.” She beamed around the room. “Thank you.”

  Kitty and Mary had made them each a large pompom ball out of wool with a bell in the middle. The boys were delighted with their gifts, and the room was filled with the sounds of giggling children and the tinkling of bells as they played with little William Collins underneath the table.

  For the Darcys and the Bingleys, Kitty and Mary had once again joined forces and embroidered hand towels for their own rooms with their initials intertwined, F and E for the Darcys and C and J for the Bingleys. “Oh, Kitty, Mary!” Lizzy cheered. “How delightful!” She kissed them both on the cheek. “I see you have both improved far more quickly than I have. I am ashamed at my embroidery skills these days.”

  Mary and Kitty both received material for dresses and books from their parents, as was their wont. Mary could not believe the amount of ribbons and lace she also received. She knew she was in for a busy winter making clothes for springtime. Her favourite gift by far was a little box of homemade chocolates from Hill. She always gave the girls chocolate for Christmas, and each of them squirreled theirs away and nibbled at them up in their own rooms.

  “Oh, we are such a merry bunch, are we not?” Mrs Bennet cried. “Is it too early for a wee snifter of something, Mr Bennet?”

  Their eyes twinkled as they met, and Mary had to stifle a laugh.

  “I think I might be persuaded to open the sherry,” Mr Bennet laughed. “Now,” he rubbed his hands together, “shall we have Christmas songs?” He looked pointedly at Mary.

  “What would you like?”

  “Hark, the Herald Angels Sing!” someone cried and was heartily agreed upon by all. “Go
d Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen!” was then hastily called out and that was decided upon too. Mary made her way to the pianoforte and led them all in the rousing songs as the sherry was passed around.

  “Thank you, Mary,” Mr Bennet called as they finished. He passed her a glass of sherry and held his aloft. “To a very merry bunch! May we continue to have a very merry Christmas!”

  “Merry Christmas,” they chimed together.

  “Well, what is that?” Mr Collins spoke up above the din. “I believe, Cousin Mary, that you have forgotten to give out one of your gifts. If I may be so bold, it remains beneath your seat.”

  Mary’s face turned as crimson as it could go. She knew the gift was there. “I had not forgotten it, Mr Collins. I merely wished to give it in private.”

  “Oh!” Mr Bennet laughed. “Then we can all guess who it is for!”

  Mary noticed his glass was already empty and he was refilling a second. She did not know what to do.

  “Is it for me?” Walter’s voice was so quiet she barely heard it above everyone’s laughter and chatter.

  Mary nodded. Her voice was only just audible, “Yes, it is.” She watched wide-eyed as Walter rose from his chair and approached her. His smile disarmed her and made everyone else in the room disappear; she had eyes only for him. Walter reached out his hand. Mary, in one fluid movement, reached under her chair and retrieved the book she had made of his illustrations. “It’s not entirely for you, but for us both, really.” She had never sounded so shy and bashful in her life. She didn’t care that everyone was watching and staring at them. All that mattered was that Walter liked what she had made for him.

  Reaching out his hand, he took the soft brown leather tome from her hands. “Oh, Mary,” he gasped. His eyes, she saw, flitted straight away to the little motif she had made in the corner. She watched as he traced first his W and then her M, and then smiled up at her. “Thank you, Mary. It is beautiful.” He took the empty chair beside her and carefully opened it. The pages cracked as he turned them over. She heard his breath catch in his throat. “These are mine!”