Mrs Bennet's Christmas

by Philippa J Rosen

  Everybody around the table lifted their glasses of wine. Even the twin boys lifted their cups of sweet cordial.

  “To Lydia, George and Fan,” they chorused.

  The meal commenced with much noise and much chatter.

  Mrs Bennet ate prodigiously, which surprised nobody.

  Wickham was pleasant and humble which surprised everybody. He was polite and interested in the conversations of others. He did not drink too much and did not descend into rudeness. If there was a fault, it was that he did not waste a single opportunity to sing the praises of his new daughter. But this was forgivable, and the other guests indulged him to the full.

  “You know, my dear, Lydia has never looked happier.”

  “Hasn’t she?” said Mrs Bennet, not looking up from her plate. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Well, what of Wickham? Haven’t you noticed anything about him?”

  “Not really, Mr Bennet. He has been gracious enough to eat and drink less than usual, thereby leaving more for me.”

  “That’s not what I mean. I mean, he seems a changed man suddenly since he became a father. Was I the same when I enjoyed fatherhood for the first time?”

  “For the first time?” I can’t recall. “By the time you had five daughters however, you drank a little more.”

  “That’s not really what I mean, my dear.”

  “No? Oh well. Slice me another piece of partridge would you, Mr Bennet.”

  Mr Collins enjoyed himself also.

  “I should think after dinner would be a good time, don’t you my love?”

  “A good time for what?” said Charlotte.

  “Why, to deliver my sermon, of course. Before dessert or after do you think?”

  “I’m really not sure, William. What do you think?”

  “Well, there are advantages and disadvantages whichever path I take. If I announce it before pudding is served, there may be protests, especially from Mrs Bennet, that there is still food to be eaten. On the other hand, if I wait until after pudding, my congregation, I mean audience, may be tired and sleepy and may not enjoy the full force of my words. For I intend to deliver a message which contains the spirit of Christmas, with a little fire and brimstone thrown in.”

  “William?”

  “Yes, my dear?”

  “Fill my glass with wine, would you?”

  Dinner continued apace. All the diners had eaten their fill and sat politely with empty plates in front of them. The exception was Mrs Bennet who had filled her plate with more partridge and beef and sausages and potatoes as well as a little teaspoon of horseradish sauce.

  At last she was finished too. She pushed away her empty plate. At the same time Mr Collins went to reach in his large jacket pocket for his papers…

  At that moment Bess rushed in and announced that dessert would be served forthwith. Mr Collins reluctantly returned the papers to his pocket

  “It has been decided for me then,” he whispered to his wife. “The sermon will be delivered after pudding after all.”

  “It would seem so, William. Pass the wine if you please.”

  Dessert was excellent too. The centrepiece was an enormous plum pudding. Ted lit the flame and it the diners applauded and watched in awe as it burned blue for a few seconds. Bess served a decent sized portion to everybody. As she served Horatio and Alexander, she whispered:

  “Check your dishes before you eat, my fine fellows. There may be something more valuable than plum pudding in there.”

  The boys looked at each other bemused.

  With a spoon they searched beneath the pudding, and each was delighted to find a shiny new threepenny piece.

  Dessert finished soon enough, and the plates were taken away.

  “Would anybody like coffee?” said Bess.

  There was a general murmuring which indicated that hot, strong coffee would be very welcome. Bess said she would have it prepared at once. Mr Collins saw his chance at last.

  He stood up and took his papers from his pocket.

  “Hear me, good people,” he said in his attempt at a stentorian voice.

  All eyes turned on him. Some with mild interest, some with boredom, some with dread.

  Mr Collins shook his papers.

  “I have here a sermon which I would like to deliver unto you. It is a sermon filled with the Christmas spirt, it’s joys and hopes. But it also has a serious and dread message of the deadly sins of sloth, pride, vanity and gluttony…”

  Here, Mrs Bennet interrupted him with a loud hiccough.

  “…to name but four.”

  It was suspected that he had forgotten the other three.

  “As you know,” the good Reverend continued, “Adam and his unfortunate wife Eve, were tricked by a serpent into eating the forbidden fruit. And as a result, the serpent crawled the rest of his days on his belly and dined only on the dust of the ground.”

  “He had to eat dust?” said Mrs Bennet to her husband. “Ugh, how disgusting. Couldn’t he have left that bit out?”

  “Indeed, my dear. I think it’s worse than that though.”

  “Worse than eating dust? What could be worse than eating dust?”

  “I don’t mean that. I mean Mr Collins. I think he’s going to start at the beginning and go through the entire bible.”

  “Noah’s Ark and everything?”

  “I fear so. Maybe somebody should say something? Some kind of protest to stop him.”

  His words were heard, though not by the diners. In her basket, little Fan woke almost as soon as Mr Collins began to speak. After the first few words she started to cry lustily. So loud for one so small that she drowned out his words. He raised his voice, but little Fan cried even louder, as if to counter him. He paused for her to stop. She paused too but, just as he started to speak again, she started to cry, even louder than before. It was no use and after a few minutes Collins sighed and returned the papers to his pocket.

  Wickham and Mr Bennet grinned at each other across the table. A prouder father or grandfather it would have been impossible to find at that moment.

  Wickham and Lydia took the basket from the room in order to quieten their baby. Collins saw a glimmer of hope until Bess returned with a trolley filled with a cups, and a large jug of coffee. As she began to serve the guests, Collins knew he had missed his opportunity once more.

  They finished their coffee just as Lydia returned to the room.

  “Fan is settled now,” she said. “George has said he will stay with her so I can enjoy myself for a while. It is wonderful of you all to come, for I have missed my sisters and you too Mother and Father.”

  They played word games again as they had the day before. This time however, it seemed more jolly, perhaps because all five Bennet sisters had enjoyed time together along with their parents. They played a game of The Minister’s Cat, followed by another game of similes.

  The festivities continued. Mr Bennet noted that Lydia looked tired.

  “Perhaps we should return home so that Lydia can rest, my dear?”

  “As you wish, Mr Bennet.”

  He made a brief announcement that they would be leaving shortly.

  Fortunately, Mr Collins had fallen asleep, his head resting on the wooden dining table. He was wakened by his wife and sat up with a start.

  “What? Is it time for my sermon?”

  “No, William, it is time for us to leave. We are all returning to Longbourn. We will pack our things and take a coach for home.”

  Mr Bennet mouthed ‘thank you’ to her from across the table.

  And so tearful farewells were made to Lydia and the baby. The men gave Mr Wickham a firm handshake, none firmer than Mr Bennet.

  “Rest well, Lydia,” said Mr Bennet, “and take good care of my granddaughter.”

  “I shall, Father. And I know George will be right beside me.”

  “I know he will too.”

  The last thing Mr Bennet did was to speak to Bess in order to pay the bill. She told him the bill had already
been settled in full - by Mr George Wickham.

  “Good Lord,” said Mr Bennet. “Another Christmas miracle.”

  The journey back to Longbourn was a little solemn, only because they had left Lydia behind and that the festivities were now over.

  Mr and Mrs Collins packed quickly and took their leave. Their journey was relatively short, and Mrs Collins thought it best not to inconvenience Mr and Mrs Bennet another night.

  “But my sermon?” said Mr Collins mournfully. “I didn’t get chanced to deliver my sermon.”

  “Don’t worry, William,” said his wife, “there’s always Easter.”

  “Or Twelfth Night?” he said brightly. “Perhaps I could return on Epiphany.”

  “I am sure Mr and Mrs Bennet have plans for Epiphany,” she said as she helped bundle him into the coach.

  The rest of Boxing Day was quiet though pleasant. The rest of them, Mr and Mrs Bennet, their three remaining daughters and their husbands sipped port as they talked about many diverse things. They talked about the recent war and Napoleon, now imprisoned on St Helena. They talked about the health of the King as well as his Regent son. Horatio and Alexander sat before the fire, playing with their new toys or reading new books. Both were very tired though and it wasn’t long before Jane and Charles carried them up to bed.

  The fire crackled and they all felt warm, both inside and out. Mrs Bennet served a tray of sweetmeats while Mr Bennet opened a bottle of fine old Port. The Christmas spirit was within them and they agreed it had been a most wonderful time. As the fire began to die down, they retired, weary but happy, to their beds.

  Chapter 9

  The next morning was another fresh, sunny day.

  All the guests bathed and dressed quickly, for all were eager to get home. They had enjoyed a wonderful Christmas, but now it was time to return to their homes.

  “Are they all leaving before breakfast?” said Mrs Bennet crestfallen.

  “I think they are eager to leave, my dear,” said Mr Bennet.

  “But if they don’t want breakfast, then it is hardly worth cook making anything.”

  Mr Bennet took pity on her.

  “Would you all like some breakfast before you leave. I know you are all anxious to return home, but if you have something light, it will make the journey less arduous.”

  Jane caught her father’s drift.

  “Why not? You don’t mind if we have a little breakfast before we leave do you, Charles?”

  “Not at all. I think it would be a good idea for the boys to have something before the journey.”

  It was agreed then that they would all leave after breakfast.

  Mr Bennet may have said it would be a light breakfast, but it was anything but. Mrs Bennet had seen to that when she placed the order for cook. There were hotcakes, sausages, eggs, bacon, fried potatoes, bread, mushrooms as well as steaming hot tea and coffee. The guests did have a light breakfast, but it meant there was a huge amount left for Mrs Bennet. She didn’t seem to mind though.

  After the light breakfast, fond farewells were once again exchanged. Mrs Bennet wept as she said goodbye to her daughters. Mr Bennet began by giving Horatio and Alexander a firm, solemn handshake. He told them to look after their mother and father, which they vowed that they would do. He shook the hands of Charles, Godfrey and Thomas and wished them good health and good luck. He waved his hand as the coaches departed while Mrs Bennet wept and waved and enormous handkerchief.

  When the last coach had disappeared, they went back inside. How quiet and empty Longbourn seemed.

  “Well, it’s all over, my dear,” said Mr Bennet.

  “Nonsense, Mr Bennet,” she said, “there’s plenty of breakfast left. I think I’ll have another morsel now.”

  Mr Bennet smiled at her indulgently. It had been a marvellous Christmas. He and his wife had seen all five of their daughters as well as two of their grandsons. They had met their newest grandchild, their only granddaughter, for now at least. Their daughters seemed very happy with their choice of husband. And, after seeing Wickham, he was very happy with his sons in law.

  Mrs Bennet returned from her second breakfast.

  “What would you like to do now, my dear?” he asked her. “We could take a gentle walk? Would you like me to read Mrs Radcliffe to you? We could have a drink together before the fire?”

  “I think I should like to sleep for a couple of hours, Mr Bennet. It has been a tiring few days.”

  “As you wish, my dear.”

  “And make sure you waken me in time for luncheon.”

  “I will, my dear, never fear.”

  She started to climb the stairs.

  “It was a most enjoyable Christmas wasn’t it, my dear,” he said.

  She stopped and turned.

  “It was most agreeable, Mr Bennet. I had a very pleasant time. A little more food perhaps…”

  She continued up the stairs. She stopped and turned again.

  “In fact, Mr Bennet, perhaps we can do it again next year. But this time perhaps it should be for a full week. From Christmas Day right through until the New Year. Imagine, we will probably have more grandchildren by then. Doesn’t that sound a wonderful idea?”

  Mr Bennet did not reply. He blanched a little and went to find another bottle of Port.

  Chapter 10

  By now Darcy and Lizzy had returned at last to Pemberley. The journey had seemed longer than usual because they were so eager to get back.

  They were delighted therefore to be home and to see little Fitzwilliam again.

  They made the day into his first Christmas and played with him all day. They took great delight in opening all his gifts, not just their own but those from his grandparents, aunts and others.

  “I’m half surprised your father didn’t buy him a drum,” said Darcy. “Horatio and Alexander certainly enjoyed playing theirs.”

  “Fitzwilliam is still much too young to play with a drum. But maybe in a couple of years…”

  “That’s something to look forward to.”

  “How was Christmas at Longbourn, my love?”

  “I rather enjoyed it, Lizzy. More than I thought I would. It was nice to see Charles again of course, but those other two men who married your sisters, they seem decent fellows.”

  “Mr Walton and Mr Anderson, you mean?”

  “Yes. Your sisters seem happy with them.”

  Fitzwilliam was put down for a sleep. Lizzy and Darcy had lunch in the dining room.

  “Our first Christmas as parents, Lizzy,” said Darcy holding up his glass.

  “Yes, and what a wonderful Christmas it has been.”

  “Yes, it has. I feel rather blessed. You and little Fitzwilliam.”

  “You’re not the only one I think.”

  “You mean Wickham?”

  “Yes. I hope you don’t mind me bringing up his name.”

  “Strangely enough, no. Of course, we’ll never be friends really., Not after what happened in Ramsgate. And yet, I felt a certain sympathy for him at the coaching inn.”

  “I know, He’d changed, hadn’t he?”

  “Yes. In a matter of hours. I almost felt respect for him.”

  “It was very strange.”

  “If it wasn’t for Ramsgate, then I…”

  He faltered.

  “Look at it this way, my love,” said Lizzy kindly. “One cannot change the past. But at least we can be reassured that Lydia and Fan will be loved and looked after.”

  “I believe your right, Lizzy. Time will tell.”

  They enjoyed lunch. Not only the food, but each other’s company.

  Darcy stood up.

  “Excuse me for a moment, Lizzy.”

  He left the room and returned with a large, flat package.

  “Why, darling, what is it?”

  “It’s a Christmas gift.”

  “But you gave me my gifts on Christmas Day. And I love them all.”

  “This is rather a special, additional gift. And besides, it’s not from me.
And it’s for us both.”

  “What is it?”

  “Open it and see.”

  He handed her the package.

  “Is it a mirror for the wall?” she said.

  “Open it, Lizzy.”

  She tore off the paper and looked. Her eyes welled with tears.

  “A portrait? How wonderful.”

  She held the painting in front of her, her arms outstretched. It was a fine portrait of Darcy and herself, and also little Fitzwilliam in her arms.

  “It’s excellent. The artist has really caught us well. But I didn’t sit for a painting. And nor did little Fitzwilliam.”

  “No. The artist has already pained us though. Remember? Our wedding portrait.”

  “Oh yes, of course.”

  “And then we invited him to our anniversary celebrations. I asked him to take some sketches of you and Fitzwilliam there. He’s done rather well, hasn’t he?”

  “Very well indeed. It’s a wonderful gift.”

  Darcy kissed her.

  “It’s from Fitzwilliam,” he said. “Merry Christmas, Lizzy darling.”

  “Merry Christmas, my love,” she said.

  By the Same Author:

  Darcy’s Match

  By Philippa J Rosen

  For their first wedding anniversary, Darcy and Lizzy propose a weekend of very special entertainment at Pemberley. A cricket match is announced, between Darcy’s team and a team of professional players from Kent cricket club.

  Darcy invites two old friends from Cambridge, William and Jonny Hammond. An incident from his past however, means that Jonny Hammond might not play, and it also makes the others treat him with suspicion.

  Over the course of the weekend, it becomes clear that Mary Bennet has taken an interest in one of the Hammond brothers. But Lizzy is not certain that he can be trusted.

  Find out more in this affectionate and funny continuation of the classic novel.

  AND

  Wickham’s Folly

  By Philippa J Rosen