The Nutcracker Reimagined: A Collection of Christmas Tales

by Le Veque, Kathryn

  Edmund stepped in amongst the crowd and a ripple of excitement spread through those gathered.

  “Do ye have yer cups, men?”

  “Aye!” was the unanimous reply as they produced wooden cups from pockets and sporrans.

  Thea watched as Edmund went to the cupboard inside and removed a large, full bottle of whisky. Striding back to the doorway, he extended the bottle to her.

  “Ye are to be mistress of this keep,” he said, giving her a warm smile. “Which means it is yer duty to dole out the whisky.”

  The gathered men stomped the frozen ground and murmured in anticipation.

  Hesitantly, Thea took the heavy bottle and approached the first man. She slowly filled his cup nearly to the top.

  “The lass may be English,” the man said loudly over his shoulder to the others, “but she isnae afraid to pour more than a wee dram on Yule!”

  This was met with roars of approval and laughter.

  “That lass is soon to be Lady Thea, Countess of Kinfallon to ye!” Edmund shouted good-naturedly over the ruckus, only drawing more whoops and merriment. Edmund had wished for the wedding to happen as soon as possible, but the snowstorms over the last week had delayed their plans. Now that the snow was melting at last, Thea hoped to make Edmund’s words true within the fortnight.

  Her cheeks warming at the thought, Thea moved amongst the men, filling their cups and accepting their bobbing heads and bows of thanks.

  When all the cups were full and the bottle nearly empty, she went back to the keep’s wide doorway, where Edmund and Clarissa stood.

  “And now,” Edmund said, motioning to one of the servants in the kitchen, “it is time to make sure no ‘auld woman’ goes hungry this winter.”

  The servant dragged out an enormous sack of grain, bringing it to the doorway. The top had already been opened and a large metal scoop rested inside.

  Edmund bent to her ear and spoke softly. “As the lady of the household, ye are to put grain in each man’s sack, then the farmers and villagers will redistribute it to those in need so that no one will suffer in the cold months,” he said.

  The men fell in line, lifting the canvas sacks from their shoulders and holding them open to her with warm smiles on their faces.

  Just as she had with the whisky, Thea doled out the grain, making sure to heap each scoop high, much to the pleasure of those gathered.

  When the last of the grain had been distributed, the men took up another merry tune as they began to disperse to their homes, the women trailing after them.

  “Ye did well, sweeting,” Edmund said as they closed the keep’s door against the chilly air and returned to the table.

  “We havenae celebrated Yule since the fire,” Clarissa murmured, taking her seat. She carefully set both the doll and the nutcracker on the table, but then she turned her attention back to Thea and Edmund. “It was good.”

  The nutcracker bore a small cloth bandage around his head where Edmund had repaired his jaw, yet Clarissa said he would not need it soon, for he would be healed. Clarissa, too, seemed to be healing, for though she continued to grieve, she was slowly rejoining the world outside her chamber.

  “Aye,” Edmund replied, squeezing his sister’s hand and giving her a soft smile.

  “Are there to be more thirsty carolers and midnight porridges to eat, or might I steal a bit of sleep?” Thea asked, stifling a contented yawn behind her hand.

  “Nay, that was it—well, until next year,” Edmund said. “And the year after that, and the year after that…”

  Despite her sleepiness, Thea’s insides warmed and roused at that. Her future with Edmund lay bright and beautiful before her, just like the dazzling blankets of snow spreading out over the landscape surrounding the castle.

  “Indeed,” she murmured, holding his gaze with hers and letting the love filling her heart shine in her eyes. “I cannot wait.”

  The End

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  All She Wanted for Christmas

  A Short Story Inspired by The Nutcracker

  Layna Pimentel

  Chapter One

  December 24, 1815

  Hayden Hill, Essex

  Clara Sedgewick stared at the tree as the servants carried in evergreen boughs and holly for her to decorate while waiting for her parents to return from their jaunt in town. The fragrance of the greenery reminded her of how lovely these last few holidays had been, but since her eldest brother had married an American heiress and moved to America, it was supposed to be her and Frederick. However, Freddy had been called away on business, so it was up to her to entertain their guests until her parents returned.

  She turned to the housekeeper with pleading eyes, hoping the woman would give her some assistance.

  “Harriet, I know not if my mother left instructions, but is all ready for dinner tonight?”

  The portly woman blanched and clenched her skirts as if preparing herself for a sound scolding.

  “About that,” Harriet stammered. “Your father’s blasted dog ran off with the bird, and I’ve sent Phillip to acquire another, but I doubt he will have any luck this close to Christmas.”

  Clara winced. Her father would most definitely be displeased if the goose was off the menu, but they still had ample food to entertain with.

  “Let us pray Phillip finds a fowl of some sort. I assume everything is prepared for dinner tonight then?”

  “Yes, miss.”

  “Excellent. Would you give me some assistance with this bough, please? I’m hoping to have these decorations up and out of the way before Uncle Duncan arrives from Scotland.”

  The servant nodded and led the way to the greenery laid out on the dining table.

  In only a few short hours her mother’s family would be arriving from Scotland, and her father’s brother and wife from London. Why her parents insisted on collecting them was beyond her comprehension since she’d never been left to see to such details before, but she supposed this was practice, after all.

  Clara reached for one end while the servant grabbed the other and they steadily carried the piece over to the mantle. Another servant entered the room and began placing candles and moving furniture around. The room was all coming together, and no sooner had she and Harriet finished decorating the mantel than the squeal of a young child echoed all around them.

  Clara couldn’t help but jump at the sound. No one had told her to expect children for the holiday, but it was a pleasant surprise no less. As she made her way to the foyer, standing tall and grand was her uncle Duncan, and she ran into his waiting arms.

  “There’s my favorite niece! How have you been, lass?”

  “Very well, Uncle. Who have you brought along?” she asked, only to find herself d
istracted by a wee boy running around excitedly while a nurse chased him. She spied a most handsome dark-haired man step to his side after sweeping the child up.

  “Allow me to introduce to you my second cousin’s nephew, Laird Andrew Cameron. Andrew, this here be my sister’s daughter, Clara.”

  Clara smiled and bowed to him. The man’s brilliant blue eyes and perfectly sculpted chin certainly added a brush of perfection.

  He reached out for her hand, and when he took it, he placed a gentle kiss to the top of her knuckles. The sensation gave her pause, and all she could fixate on was his perfectly formed lips touching her hand. Heaven prevail! How could a man be so beautiful?

  “A pleasure to meet you, Miss Clara. This here is my son, Alec.”

  The cheeky cherub grinned with full, rosy cheeks.

  “Hullo, Alec. He is beautiful. How old is he?”

  His son giggled the whole time, trying to wriggle out of his arms. She loved watching little ones infusing joy into their parents’ lives in the village. Even if she had little experience with them, their felicity in running amok and experiencing life as it should be—carefree and with all the tenderness the world could offer—was relaxing.

  The man smiled back, passing the child to the nurse, and returned his gaze to her. “He is two now.”

  She stepped aside and waved them in. “Please, do come in. There is plenty of room here.” Clara turned to Harriet, who waited off to the side. “Harriet, would you kindly show my uncle’s party to their rooms please? I’ll see to the refreshments myself.”

  Clara couldn’t help but wonder where the child’s mother was. Surely she wouldn’t miss such an important holiday?

  As she carried a tray of tea and biscuits into the parlor, she found her uncle already by the fire, seated in her father’s favorite chair. He donned a smile befitting one who was up to mischief. His gray and tired eyes gleamed with glory.

  “Pray tell, Uncle, what has you smiling so gleefully?”

  “It is so nice to see you again, niece. Can a man not be content with seeing his family?”

  “Of course, he can, sir.” She replied with a grin. “Although, I do beg to ask, were Mama and Papa expecting your nephew?”

  Her parents always complained the house lacked guests, and with her uncles and aunt already expected, she knew not of how many servants they’d bring along, if any. The house was always open to guests looking to spend the night; however, she contemplated what she could give the little one for Christmas with lack of notice.

  “Nay. However, I do not think they will be upset. Andrew was my wife’s sister’s son, and he lost his own wife during childbirth. I figured a trip away for Christmas would lift his spirits and…”

  His voice trailed off and his gaze diverted beyond her approaching him and then back to her.

  “I thought it would be good for them to meet the rest of the family.” He added with a whisper.

  Indeed, it was a good thing her uncle Duncan had the good sensibility not to leave any lonely members of his family alone for Christmas. A widow with a young son on top of it no less.

  She pitied the man she’d just met, even though he’d probably scold her for doing so. Men often rejected such notions, but the child, of course, would grow up without his mother—a thought that broke her heart.

  What if she never had a family of her own? She was a spinster in the making. At twenty-five and no prospects of finding a man who wasn’t after her father’s well-earned fortune, what else was there for her to look forward to.

  “Will you be pouring me that tea sometime before dinner?”

  She gave her head a shake. “Apologies, Uncle. Not sure where my mind went off to.”

  Clara placed the tray down on the side table and poured him the steaming hot beverage and handed him the saucer.

  “I do hope you will enjoy your stay. Mama and Papa will return very soon and will be quite glad to receive you all.”

  “I know, dear. Come and sit down and tell me all about what you have been doing these last few months with Frederick gone away.”

  Clara pulled up a chair next to him and then joined her uncle a few moments later. How would her uncle respond to her aiding her father with his business? She had taken over maintaining all his accounts. Surely, he’d view this as a man’s employment, but it certainly gave her a broad understanding of where their income derived from.

  Her own father started the merchant business for the East India Trading company when he was a young man, and from there, another company that dealt with human cargo. He swiftly left that company to start his own in tobacco and cane sugar. He’d traded with the Portuguese for their wine and spices they acquired in the east. Soon after that, his enterprises included tea, pottery and silk.

  She knew more about the business than her own mother and brothers, which, oddly enough, impressed her.

  “I’ve been learning about Papa’s business and keeping his accounts in order.”

  Her uncle smiled and rubbed his chin. “Sounds to me, lass, that between working for your father and keeping on top of your parents’ estate, you have the fine makings of a wife. Have your parents brought any suitable men to meet you?”

  Clara shook her head. Why had her uncle become so interested in her current status of being a spinster? Not once had he even mentioned it before in his letters to her over the years. Not that the conversation upset her, but it was a shortcoming nonetheless and an embarrassing topic. The fact that her nose was always in a book and she managed her father’s accounts only brought the wrong sort of offers. She held out that one day, just one day, the right man would come along and actually be interested in her and not her father’s money.

  “He has once or twice, but neither of the men were suitable. They were solely interested in Papa’s wealth and business. A horse would have been treated better than I would in either of the potential marriages.”

  Her uncle chuckled then. “Now there’s a thought. I am certain you will find someone who will make you happy,” he added with a knowing gleam in his eye. The man was clearly up to some mischief in the matchmaking way. Why else would he invite a widowed relation to their home this Christmas? Certainly not for the goose.

  “I doubt there is such a paragon. Truly, Uncle, I hardly leave the house unless I travel with Harriet to the village. Most of the men there are already married, or are far too young. I rarely head to port with father, and unless some dashing earl passes this way to rescue me from my spinsterhood, I doubt there is a man alive interested in me.”

  Uncle Duncan then patted her knee. “Now, lass, that is no way to be thinking of your future. If at first you doona succeed, keep on trying. We all meet who we’re supposed to be with at some point or another.”

  Phillip then knocked on the parlor door before entering with a smile. “I managed to find another Goose… Thank heavens! Oh, and the master has returned with quite a surprise. They will be along shortly.”

  A surprise? What on Earth could her parents have possibly brought back from London?

  Chapter Two

  Andrew hid himself down the hall and watched Clara chatting away with her uncle. She was a beautiful lass with long chestnut waves and brilliant blue eyes. Her form was petite, and he must have towered a whole foot above her. She had all the makings of a bluestocking, which explained a great deal of why she had not been married off yet. However, he found it particularly interesting that she’d been managing her father’s accounts.

  He had heard enough of their conversation to suspect her mind was as sharp as any man. Toss in the fact she was beautiful, and he could hardly keep his eyes off her. He decided now was as good as any a time to interrupt them, considering he could hear her parents coming through the house with other relatives in tow. The nurse had put Alec down for a nap, so he’d manage to get some time alone with the rest of the adults for a short while. He coughed into his hand to let them know he was approaching. When he entered the room, he took a seat opposite of Duncan, and Clara rose and look
ed at him.

  “Would you care for some tea, Andrew?” She quickly looked away, and he couldn’t help but notice the slight blush to her cheeks.

  He had to wonder if she was shy, or perhaps simply being coy. The thought gave him pause. During their travel here, Andrew contemplated if Duncan was attempting to make, yet again, another failed match; however, at this moment, there was a small measure of hope she was a fit.

  “Yes, please.”

  She swiftly moved over to the sideboard and poured him a cup. When she crossed the room and brought him the beverage, their fingers brushed for a moment. Unbeknownst to her, the sensation of her delicate touch against his sent a jolt of pleasure through him. Not once, since his wife of two years passed, had he touched a woman other than taking his son from his nurse. There were times he missed the companionship, but given he’d taken over the lands his father bequeathed him, he honestly hadn’t given female company a second thought. At least not until now.

  “Thank you.” He spoke softly as he took the cup from her. Their eyes met, and she smiled at him before returning to her seat. Andrew could see from the corner of his eye how Duncan watched his interaction with Clara. Bonny as she was, he couldn’t help but wonder if the man had invited him on purpose. As much as he hated to admit it, if that were the case, the plan was working.

  Clara needed a distraction and soon found herself wishing her parents hadn’t arrived just yet. Her mother came into view with the grandest of smiles, and then Frederick and her other relatives from London appeared. Excitement roiled about in her belly as she ran to Freddy.

  “Oh!” she squealed and barreled straight into his arms. “I’m so glad you were able to join us for Christmas, Freddy.”

  “I am, too, love.”

  “Uncle Duncan,” her brother added.

  “What a surprise and such a joyous occasion.” Uncle Duncan added.

  Clara caught her brother nod to Andrew and then looked back at her aunt and uncle following her father in. “This may be the very best of our Christmases.” Clara exclaimed.