A Gerrard Family Christmas

by Rebecca Connolly

  “That’s not why you did it, Mrs. Fraser,” Colin told her, a slight tone of teasing in his voice, “and that’s not why I’m thanking you.”

  “No?” she asked, still not looking at him. “You don’t want your sister to know the proper way to make a pudding?”

  “It’s not exactly on my list of requirements for her education, though I am quite sure she has now benefitted greatly from your excellent instruction.”

  Mrs. Fraser nodded once. “You can be sure she has.”

  “But the pudding is not the most important thing here, Mrs. Fraser,” Colin went on, watching his cook steadily.

  “Never underestimate a good pudding,” Mrs. Fraser grunted.

  “Sage counsel, I will remember that,” Colin told her. “But you took a girl who was in the depths of distress, who had made a mess of your kitchen, and instead of chastising her you showed her love and respect, patience and kindness. You really might be an angel, Mrs. Fraser.”

  She grunted again and sniffed very quietly. “Don’t you be spreading that around, sir. I don’t need any of my staff thinking I’ve gone soft.”

  Colin leaned closer. “I think you are soft, Mrs. Fraser. Underneath that tough Scottish exterior, I think you might be softer than custard.”

  Mrs. Fraser looked up at him with accusation glaring from her eyes. “Those be fighting words, Mr. Colin, and you are in my territory.”

  “They are entirely complimentary, Mrs. Fraser,” Colin said, grinning now. “I know better than to insult a Scot on her own grounds.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “How would you know that?”

  “My sister-in-law had a Scottish mother.” He shrugged one shoulder. “I know my boundaries with her.”

  “Huh.” Mrs. Fraser smirked. “Perhaps you will survive to old age after all.”

  “Kit will be delighted to hear it.”

  A clanking from the other side of the kitchen turned Mrs. Fraser around. “Kitty Bell, if you ruin that mincemeat pie, I will have you poaching the household eggs for a month!”

  The slender girl bobbed a frantic curtsey. “Yes, Mrs. Fraser.”

  Mrs. Fraser turned back to her steaming pot of whatever it was, muttering in Gaelic under her breath.

  “I’m not familiar with the threats of a kitchen,” Colin mused. “Is that a terrible one?”

  “It is for her,” she replied. “Kitty Bell is impossible with all things eggs. It would be both educational and chastening.”

  “Ah. Both just and merciful.”

  Mrs. Fraser sighed with a brogue. “Was there something else, Mr. Colin? This is quite a feast to prepare, and then there’s the one after that, and all the excesses that go to the tenants and families of servants for St. Stephen’s Day…”

  “It’s about the coins,” Colin interrupted gently. “For the pudding.”

  “Ah.” Mrs. Fraser nodded knowingly. “Yes, sir, I’ve already put sixpence in.”

  Colin pulled out a small pouch of coins. “Put these in.”

  Mrs. Fraser’s eyes widened. “Sir, you’ll have a broken tooth if you put that many coins in a pudding.”

  Colin handed the pouch over. “Then put in as much as your conscience allows you to, and save the rest for yourself. As a token of my appreciation and Christmas generosity.”

  Mrs. Fraser shook her head slowly at him, smiling reluctantly. “You are a madman, Mr. Colin.”

  “Aye, I know it, Mrs. Fraser,” Colin sighed, trying for a brogue and doing it poorly. “But what’s a man to do but embrace his fate?”

  Mrs. Fraser chuckled and waved him off. “Away wi’ ye, sir, before ye’ sully my ears wi’ your abysmal accent.”

  Colin coughed a laugh and pushed off of the table. “My own cook insulting me. And on Christmas Eve, no less?” He shook his head and moved for the stairs. “I think I should take myself where my talents are more appreciated.”

  “Good day, Mr. Colin!” Mrs. Fraser called, waving her spoon cheerily.

  Colin chuckled the entire way up the stairs. He was going to have to come up to Yorkshire more often, for Mrs. Fraser was quickly becoming his favorite cook of them all. He wouldn’t dare tell any of the others that, for fear of being poisoned by one or all of them.

  They seemed to have a knack for hiring eccentric servants wherever they went.

  He blamed Kit for that.

  As with so many things.

  “Colin, there you are!” Susannah called.

  Colin turned towards the sound and saw his wife and Marianne in the entryway, removing their snow-covered cloaks and bonnets.

  “You two look more than half frozen,” he commented as he came to them, taking Susannah’s hand in his. “This poor hand is all ice!” He drew her hand to his mouth and kissed it, then rubbed it between his own and kissed it again. “Do I need to warm you, love?”

  Susannah gave him a wry look, then turned to Marianne. “He makes it sound so helpful, doesn’t he?”

  Marianne scoffed and shivered, rubbing her own hands together. “Men.”

  Colin gave her an outraged look. “I beg your pardon, Marianne Bray Gerrard, I would offer to warm you, but I distinctly remember a time when you told me you would rather muck out stables than have a hug from me.”

  His sister-in-law laughed merrily, beaming at him, reminding him again just what a rare beauty she was. “Well, I’d take a hug from you at this moment, if you’ll let that one go.”

  He opened an arm for her. “Come here, minnow.”

  She came to him and hugged him for a moment, letting him rub her arm, and then she kissed his cheek quickly. “You know I would never muck out stables, Colin. Not for the world.”

  He looked down at her with a fond smile. “I wondered about that.”

  Marianne rolled her eyes and turned for the next room. “I’m going to need a fire, and perhaps an adorable child in my lap to warm me properly.”

  Colin looked down at his wife with a surprised smile. “Well, that is something I never thought Marianne would say. Wanting a child in her lap?” He shook his head. “I don’t even know who she is anymore.”

  Susannah rapped him quickly on the chest. “Stop that. You know she adores her children, and ours.”

  “Which shows just how far she’s fallen.”

  Susannah rolled her eyes and waved a letter before his face. “This came for you by express.”

  Colin frowned and took it from her, breaking the seal and reading the brusque note quickly.

  “No…” he breathed, dread filling him. “No, no, no, this is horrible!”

  “What is it?” Susannah asked, trying to read it. “What?”

  “They can’t come,” Colin said, reading the words again. “There’s too much snow, they can’t make it!”

  “Who can’t?” Susannah prodded. “Make it where?”

  “This will ruin everything!” Colin bit back a curse and put his hands to his hair. “I had planned on them all being here.”

  “Here?” Susannah demanded. She gave Colin a sharp look and folded her arms. “Colin, who did you invite here for Christmas?”

  Had he forgotten to share that bit of information with his wife?

  Oh no.

  He offered the weakest of smiles, and prayed he would live to see the feast he had planned so perfectly.

  K it

  Chapter Seven

  Colin had lost his mind.

  He hadn’t told Susannah that he had invited their entire group of friends and their families to Benbridge Park for Christmas?

  Absolutely ridiculous.

  Well, the point was relatively moot now that they could not come due to the snow, which was still falling, and falling heavily. Kit didn’t blame them for not coming. He wouldn’t have done any travelling himself except what was absolutely necessary.

  But snow or no snow, several guests and their children was something that one really ought to discuss with one’s wife. Before the invitations are made, preferably.

  Kit had known about it. Colin had to
ld him a few days ago, and it had never occurred to him to tell Susannah about it. Why should he? She wasn’t his wife, and it wasn’t his idea. And he would have thought that his idiot brother would have told her, or, more rationally, conferred with her about it first.

  The way Susannah had screeched at him prompted Kit and Marianne to move the pair of them to a different setting rather than the main entryway of the house in close proximity to the drawing room where the children were still decorating the tree.

  Some things the children did not need to be privy to.

  Now Kit and Marianne stood in the corner, anticipation high. With the doors closed, and relative privacy secured, Susannah would be able to rail into Colin to her heart’s content. Kit had never witnessed one of their fights, and he was rather looking forward to it.

  He was mentally placing a bet firmly in Susannah’s corner on this one.

  “You invited everyone for Christmas?” Susannah hissed, her color rising. “And didn’t tell me?”

  Colin winced, knowing full well he was in for it. “I didn’t mean to not tell you, darling. I just… forgot that you didn’t know.”

  Susannah gaped at him in disbelief. “But you invited them all. Without telling me.”

  “Surprise?”

  “Colin!”

  “It’s an irrelevant matter now, isn’t it?” Colin offered, still not looking as apologetic as he ought to have. “That’s what the missive from Derek said. They couldn’t make it. The weather is too poor, and the roads in terrible shape. They’re probably all going to gather at Derek’s estate in Derbyshire, and we’ll be the only ones missing out.”

  “Missing out?” Susannah chortled. “Missing out? Colin! We can’t house four other families!”

  Colin was nodding, which made Kit want to wince. “Yes, we can.”

  Susannah looked taken aback that Colin had a response to her. “What?”

  “We can,” he said again. “Or we could have, at any rate. Since we’re not, there’s no point in saying we can.”

  “Colin.”

  “Right!” He stepped forward to take her arms, but she stared at him with such coldness that he wisely refrained from doing so.

  “You’re enjoying this too much,” Marianne whispered to Kit.

  “I’m enjoying it just enough,” he whispered back, making her snicker.

  “I had it all worked out with Mrs. Donovan,” Colin was saying. “We would only need to use six of the main guest rooms. Four for the couples, one for Lizzie and Helena to share, as they always do, and one for Robbie and Harry to share, as they always do. All of the other children are young enough to go into nurseries.”

  That was a valid point, actually. Kit would grant him that one.

  “That is still a lot of children for one nursery,” Susannah pointed out, not convinced of anything.

  Colin nodded, conceding her point, which was wise. “The bedroom next to the nursery would easily be converted into another, perhaps for the older of the children. And even with all of that, there would still be two guest rooms available in case we needed to have some separation.”

  Well, it seemed they could have housed that large number of people after all. It would have been crowded, but entirely possible.

  Kit would have to remember that.

  Susannah made a weak noise of relenting. “Fine, so we could have housed them all, but what about feeding them? And entertaining?”

  Colin sighed and put his hands into his pockets. “Mrs. Fraser has plenty of food, trust me. And I had it all sorted. These aren’t strangers who need much entertainment, Susannah. They’re our friends. My best friends. And their families, which would make the children happy. I just thought it would be a lovely Christmas surprise to have us all together.”

  For the first time since the missive had arrived, Colin actually sounded truly dejected about the change in plans.

  Susannah heard it too. “Oh, Colin,” she murmured, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around his waist. “I’m sorry your plans went awry.”

  Kit frowned at that. She was sorry? That didn’t seem right. Colin had committed the far greater sin in this. He should be apologizing to her on bended knee, crawling across broken glass, or having to tend the babies for an entire evening alone to earn her forgiveness. Something like that. Anything, really.

  Colin pulled his wife close. “I’m sorry, too. I should have told you.”

  “Yes, you should,” Susannah said firmly as she pulled back. “And just so you know, if the entire group of them had descended upon us and I found out that you had plotted the whole thing without my knowledge, I would have been in no mood for anything remotely resembling Christmas for quite some time.”

  She followed that somewhat terrifying pronouncement with a slap to the back of Colin’s head.

  That seemed sufficient. Kit was satisfied.

  “Did you know about this?” Marianne murmured, obviously not wanting to get involved, but still inquiring.

  Ah… How truthful was one supposed to be with one’s spouse? He always struggled to remember.

  “I think Colin may have said something about wishing to invite guests,” Kit replied carefully, keeping his voice down, “but never any concrete plans. I’m surprised he never said anything.”

  Marianne looked at Kit sharply, clearly not convinced of anything. “So you didn’t know.”

  Oh boy. Kit sighed and shook his head. “I knew that he had invited your brother and Annalise and the children, but I didn’t say anything because I wanted it to be a surprise for you. I know you miss them terribly when we’re all apart.”

  Marianne smiled up at him with the sort of endearing look he had yet to grow accustomed to where she was concerned. It still sent his heart skittering off in four directions when she did so. “Oh, Kit…” She went up on tiptoe to kiss the underside of his jaw before hugging herself close.

  Kit raised his eyes to the heavens in a very silent prayer of gratitude. That had been entirely too close. Marianne had a sharper temper than Susannah did, and was far more unpredictable when it was raised.

  “Just so you know, Mr. Gerrard,” she said in a light tone, “if you ever did something as idiotic as what Colin almost did, I would have you strung up from the rafters by your limbs while the footmen held torches beneath your fingers and toes.”

  Good lord.

  Kit coughed and fought the temptation to loosen his cravat. “Understood, Mrs. Gerrard.”

  She nodded against him, completely oblivious to his turmoil.

  Would she reenact an echo of that threat with any surprise guests? None that would stay the night, or require anything of her, but he had already made several arrangements for the evening entertainment…

  He swallowed hastily. There were quite a few things that he would need to consider now, but with no additional guests coming in, he was freed from the stress of hosting anything official this evening, or later in the week.

  That was a significant point in favor of the growing snow.

  “Was the snow really so bad out there?” Kit asked in his usual speaking tone, hoping both Susannah and Marianne had gotten past their rather violent sounding mindset.

  The women looked at each other with matching amused smiles.

  “What?” Colin asked, catching it as well. “What was that for?”

  “Well,” Susannah said, clearly beyond wanting to throttle her husband, “you were out in the snow yourself…”

  “Several hours ago,” Kit pointed out. “And we were traipsing through countryside to find a tree.”

  Marianne shrugged, surprisingly not complaining about the cold or the snow. “It was fine.”

  Fine was not a word that Marianne tended to use often. His wife, much as he adored her, had a flare for the dramatic, which meant her description of absolutely everything was extensive and thorough. He’d grown used to it, and couldn’t say that he minded so very much anymore. Sometimes he actually looked forward to them, wondering just how she would describe whatever
happened, knowing he would be able to picture it perfectly however she put it.

  But fine? No, that was not sufficient.

  “Fine?” he repeated aloud, giving her a look.

  She offered a small, secretive smile. “What would you like me to say, Kit? It was cold, it was snowy, I slipped once or twice…”

  “You did?” he interrupted quickly, stepping away to look her over. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  Marianne rolled her eyes and looked over at Susannah. “He thinks I’m made of glass and will break with the slightest nudge.”

  Susannah chuckled and pulled Colin’s arm around her waist. “At least he cares. Colin would be the first to push me down the stairs if I stood in the way of breakfast.”

  Colin scoffed loudly. “That’s not fair!”

  Everyone in the room gave him a knowing look.

  “It would depend entirely on what we were having for breakfast and who had made it,” Colin explained.

  Kit rolled his eyes with a groan and returned his focus to Marianne. “I can’t help but be concerned, love,” he told her, running his hands over her arms. “You’re barely a month out from giving birth to Daphne, and your strength…”

  “My strength,” Marianne overrode, her eyes flashing, “is perfectly fine, Mr. Gerrard. I’ve been out delivering baskets with Susannah all week, and you didn’t complain about it before. I slipped because my boots were not made for the snow. I did not fall. The families were most appreciative, and send their best compliments to you and to Colin. They said they could not be more fortunate in their masters.” She sniffed with an almost haughty air. “You’re welcome.”

  Kit could have done without that last bit, but it was Marianne’s favorite way of teasing him. He glowered playfully at her, and she winked at him, smiling his most favorite smile.

  “Did they really say that?” Colin asked, sounding doubtful, as Colin usually was about praise directed his way.

  “Well, one family did,” Susannah allowed with a smirk. “The rest didn’t have much to say beyond your expected expressions of gratitude.”