AN: So, I decided to change where the Christmas Interlude goes to make the story flow more chronologically. I also added in some stuff, so it has a little more than it originally did. Original AN below.
Well here's a fun little bit of Christmas fluff, so sweet it might just rot your teeth. Also the longest thing I've written for this story. And a bit of ambiance to play while you read, just remove the spaces, or it's the first result if you google ASMR Edwardian Christmas. www . youtube . com watch?v =fd2WvjydDIc&list= PL60VEjtIzlZf SgXQH-yoBolDjJoFf1lQ_ &index=58&t=25s
I hope you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!
I was quite happy this Christmas. Well, it was almost Christmas, the night before actually. The tree had been put up in the parlor, covered in ornaments and tinsel. Mother had closed up the Fifth Avenue house and come down to stay with Will and I in the dock house. The staff from the other house had been freed from their duties for the holiday and even the staff here was reduced, free to spend time with their families. If they had no one though, we opened up our pantry for their own Christmas feast. I hummed along to the song on the phonograph as I draped a ribbon around the edge of the tree's branches. Presents had already been piled around the base, aside from a few early gifts we had given each other to use during our Christmas celebrations.
"The Hallelujah chorus?" Will's voice cut through my humming, he had brought an armful of candles to light the tree with. He left them on a side table, coming over to gently grip my waist and lift me off the chair I was standing on, my own hands on his shoulders. His hands were strong, and I may have leaned forward a bit too much, unbalancing him, so that instead of lifting me, I collapsed onto him. He stumbled back a couple steps, managing to turn it into a spin, and I pressed my lips to his forehead.
I watched the light dance in his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips as he set me onto my feet. I reached to adjust the necktie he was wearing, letting my fingers linger on his chest. "My Will, you've gotten clumsy since you've been laid up here for the winter."
His hands moved from my waist, running along my sides, fingers ghosting over my ribs. I couldn't help the laugh I gave, or the way I struggled in his arms. "Ana, you are a horrible woman, do you know that?" His voice was light though, and I still tried to get away from his tickling fingers, but not very hard. After everything that had happened, sometimes all I wanted was to stay in his arms. Even though he could be incorrigible. And he knew exactly where on my ribs would make me start to shake and generally flail. I ineffectually batted as his chest, almost breathless with laughter.
"Anastasia, William, can't you two behave yourselves?" Mother's voice was calm as she came in, and for once she had left off her mourning. She wasn't due to officially come out for another four months, but in the spirit of the holiday she'd donned a green velvet dress and had her hair dressed with a matching ribbon. I clapped my hands over my mouth, trying to silence the laughs that were still escaping even as his fingers stilled.
Will stepped away, "My apologies Mrs. Dalian, we didn't mean to disturb you."
"Actually, it is nice to hear laughter here again. But really, you're acting like a child, Anastasia dear." She settled into a chair, pulling some sewing from her work basket.
I managed to get my breath back. "I'm sorry Mother, but really it was all him." I gave Will a very large wink, and he gave a chuckle. "We were finishing trimming the tree, all that's left is the candles."
"Please, finish them then. Dinner is going to be ready soon, and I thought you might like to change before, Anastasia." She had begun to work on her sewing, a small block of a large patchwork quilt she had been assembling. I knew part of it was composed of Father's old shirts and suits, we had both contributed some of our old dresses to be cut up. Apparently it was a tradition on Mother's side of the family to use some of the deceased's clothing and your own to make a quilt, a way to keep them by you.
I looked down to the yellow silk dress I had been wearing all day. It was rather wrinkled, not to mention it had a dusting of dried pine needles around the hem. "Of course Mother, Will let's get the candles set." We busied ourselves, placing the candles where they could best throw light on the crystal ornaments placed all over the tree. I couldn't help the little squeeze of my heart though when I looked at the star on top of the tree. Father, Mother and I had spent Christmas Day one year making it, wrapping gold wire into the shape and holding the colored crystals and bits of glass in place until they had been secured. I gave it a little rub, hoping Father was watching us somehow. This was the first Christmas without him.
It was strange not to have his stocking hung by Mother's and mine. Mother had embroidered all of them, mine in blue and silver and theirs in red and gold, and it seemed so lonely to only see the two of them, when for so long there had been three. The nail Father had used for so long wasn't unoccupied though. Will had been gifted a knit stocking from Peggy, and Mother had sworn that she would eventually embroider one for him. It hadn't happened yet though, so Will's stocking was the odd one out. I adjusted some of the greenery on the oak mantle, letting it artfully hang over. The standing clock chimed four, and it suddenly seemed that so little time was left before dinner.
"I'll be right back." I promised both of them, rushing upstairs. Peggy was waiting to help me change, and there was already a dress laid out. As soon as I saw it, I knew Mother had left it, for I had never seen it before. Beautiful cream silk, smooth as butter and embroidered in gold thread to catch the light. No wonder Rigel had been very firmly locked out of the dressing room, any of his hair would have shown on it instantly. I drew it on happily, and Peggy clasped my pearls around my neck. I buttoned a pair of shoes on over a new pair of silk stockings, an early gift from Will. I left my gloves though, we were at home and informal so they were not needed, and headed back down.
Will was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I could see his short brown hair had been freshly brushed, but his black suit was still as crisp as it had been this morning. Lucky him, he didn't have to change three times a day. I watched him, smiling as I saw his eyes widen. His arm automatically came up, "Ana, you're a vision."
I took his arm with both my hands, kissing his cheek. "Thank you Will, and you're still as handsome as you were this morning." He gave a chuckle, bringing his other hand over to clasp over both of mine. Together we set off for the dining room, passing through the decorated house, all draped in pine branches and holly, strategic bundles of mistletoe placed throughout. The dining room had been freshly cleaned and polished, the dark wood gleaming against the crisp white linen tablecloth. More pine branches were placed throughout the room, red ribbons trailing down from them, winding about ivy hanging down from the walls.
I noticed that there were more than three places set, far more than three. The whole table had been filled, and the massive centerpiece of pine branches, holly berries and white roses had been moved to a sideboard to free up space. A fresh runner ran the length of the table, red silk with embroidered wreaths along the edges. I looked to Mother, sat at the head of the table. "Guests?"
She sipped at a glass of wine, "The Fields, all seven of them."
I settled down in my chair, Will sitting next to me. "A full house then." I laughed, it was always the same little game we played every year. The Fields had been a staple of our Christmas celebrations as long as I could remember. When I was young, the children had expressly been forbidden from the table, instead joining the cook in the kitchen while our parents talked and drank. Now that we were all older though, we were expected to behave ourselves as proper ladies and gentlemen. It wasn't as much fun, we couldn't exactly steal off each other's plates at the table, but the food was much better, and they'd relaxed their stance a bit when Morgan had found herself with twin girls long after she had stopped expecting more.
"I should be happy to meet them." Will said as he reached for a glass, his hand brushing against mine. I couldn't help but notice how he made sure to gently caress the ring on my left hand, and part of me still couldn't believe it. I had agreed to it, obviously, but sometimes I still found myself looking at the simple ring and being amazed at everything that had happened. It would only be another half a year, six months that seemed to stretch like an eternity in front of me, but also seemed to be coming closer and closer every single day at a rapid pace. Sometimes I would think the fact that Will and I would be married sometime soon, it still had me shaking my head in disbelief. I myself reached out to adjust the simple ring, admiring how the solitary diamond caught the light from the chandelier, the braided pattern on the gold band burnished to a bright shine."Oh, you'll regret saying that." Mother actually chuckled, "They are quite a lot."
"My family is rather large," Will replied, a faint smile on his lips. "It would be good to have more people around." I couldn't help the little twist of my lips, and I saw Mother look down. I knew he hadn't meant it, but he had struck a nerve with both of us. My parents had always wanted a large family, and I had wanted brothers and sisters, but we hadn't been blessed with it. Our holidays were always a small celebration, simply us and some close friends. It had always been enough, but the desire was still there. Will must have noticed something, for he quickly cast a glance at me. "Did I say something wrong?"
Mother quickly sniffed, waving a hand. "Oh, it's merely adjusting to Gareth not being here, William. He did so love the season." She took a sip of wine, fortifying herself, before she turned to me. "Anastasia, do you remember the year he invited the entire office staff over?"
I grinned, "Of course, they drank us dry and decided to all go caroling through all the docks. Father was in the lead the whole time!" We all had a good laugh at that, and it quickly devolved into sharing memories of Christmases past. Mother spoke about a time a blizzard had blown in over Christmas in Nebraska when she was a girl, how the town had hung ropes to each and every door so you could hang onto the rope and not become lost in the snow when heading out. Will remembered a Christmas where his father had been at sea, unable to make it back for the holiday, but had shown up three weeks after with a tree and presents for everyone. I, laughingly, told them about the year that I had sworn to spend the entire night asleep in front of the fireplace, quite certain that I would see Santa when he left presents, only to wake up in my own bed.
Mother had to set down her wine she was laughing so hard. "Gareth carried you back up, and then he swore to me that I couldn't let it happen again, you were so big he had hurt his back carrying you to bed!" I may have blushed a bit at that, but we were quickly distracted from our memories by the sound of the front door opening.
A sudden rush of voices from the foyer announced the arrival of the Fields, the younger children rushing in before the others. Rachel and Mary, done up in their Sunday best, immediately barreled into Mother, begging Aunt Ruth for some sweets or early presents. She laughed, promising them plenty of sweets after dinner. Their older siblings followed them in, lecturing the girls about their behavior. Ezekiel came to my side, briefly hugging my shoulders before he pried his sisters away and sent them to their places. Joshua, his ever serious older brother, greeted Will with a firm handshake and a nod, while David, the youngest boy, loudly demanded to know where dinner was. Morgan and Abraham came last, loudly calling for their children, all of their children thank you, to behave themselves.
I gave them both a hug, stopping to admire Morgan's dress. "Oh, that is beautiful!"
Morgan gave a little twirl, her black hair fanning out. "Isn't it? Abe gave it to me for my birthday last year but I just haven't had a chance to wear it." It was long, a dark purple silk that hung straight on her, the skirt pleated and unfurling as she spun. We chatted for a few more minutes, and I very loudly admitted that the dress I was wearing was new, it had shown up on my bed with no warning.
Mary, already sat in her chair, gave a little gasp and shot upright. "It must have been Santa!"
"That's not fair, how come Santa came early to you?" Rachel pouted, her elbows jammed onto the table. Her mother poked at them until the girl pulled them off.
"Well, it's because Ana has been so very good this year, she got her presents early." Will came to my side, giving me a kiss on the cheek against the wrinkled noses of the two girls. "Have you two been good this year?"
"Oh yes, yes!" Rachel cried, "I want Santa to bring me a new pair of boots and a muff that I saw, so I've been helping Mother with everything that I can."
"And I want a new pair of winter gloves!" Mary broke in, "And a doll, and a petticoat with real lace on it-"
"Girls, if you keep telling everyone what you want Santa might think you're being greedy." Abe laughed from his seat, "Quiet down now, it's time to eat." The footmen and maids had begun to carry in covered dishes, overseen by the butler from the Fifth Avenue house. When Mother had told him he might take the night off, he had almost gone apoplectic. As long as the Dalians were having visitors, he swore that he would oversee everything. He'd been as good as his word, even hanging some of the greenery himself. I knew for a fact that Mother had slipped a large tip into the book he kept at his bedside, she had come to me grinning like a child after she had.
It seemed a never ending parade of dishes being laid out. Our cook had outdone herself, a massive beef rib taking the center stage while all around it were piled mashed potatoes, green beans, asparagus in hollandaise sauce, salmon in cream sauce and oysters on ice, fruit, both fresh and sugared, and a hundred other dishes. You could barely see the design on the china the platters were so full. It was slowly revealed as we all set to, a classic blue on white scene of ships sailing, sauces creating a rather bizarre sunset on top of them. Abe stood to carve the roast and pass it out, his cuts firm and sure, the meat rich and pink. We could barely fit dessert in, ice cream and a huge number of pies, along with an old fashioned plum pudding that arrived in all its flaming glory and reeking of brandy. Once the brandy had burned off the butler placed a sprig of holly on it, and set it on the table for serving.
I watched Will eat two large slices of the pudding, "I take it you like it?"
"Plum pudding is always my favorite at this time of year." He settled back into his chair. "What's yours?"
I lifted the small plate in front of me, "Pecan pie, with a little ice cream on top." I happily crunched my way through the slice, relishing the sweet filling and the flaky pastry. I looked around, noting that all three of the Fields boys had barely stopped short of licking their plates clean, while Mother, Abe and Morgan were quietly talking over a glass of sherry. The two young girls were already nodding off in their chairs, and had to be collected by their brothers as we all moved to the parlor. The gentlemen had their cigars and Will was puffing away at his new pipe, a gift from Charles and Sylvie that had arrived a week ago with a letter wishing us a merry Christmas and telling us all about how things were going with them. Rigel had been allowed down, and the cook had slipped him a large beef bone as a gift. He was contentedly gnawing on it by the fire, his tail thumping on the floor.
I gratefully accepted a mug of eggnog from Mother who had decided to serve from the large crystal bowl that had been brought out. I sipped at it, enjoying the sweet drink and the slight burn from the whiskey and rum that had been mixed in. I usually tried to keep myself on an even keel as far as drink was concerned, I hadn't overindulged to an extreme since that night at the Vanderbilt party, but I had decided to relax my standard during Christmas. I was in my own home, safe with my mother and the man I loved, and friends so close they were practically family. If there was ever a place to allow myself to get drunk, this was it.
Mary, jostled awake by her brother setting her onto the settee, blearily looked around. "Who's going to read A Christmas Carol this year?"
The slight clattering of the silver spoon Mother was using to stir the eggnog stilled, and I felt the same twist at my heart that I knew she felt. Father had always read the story on Christmas Eve, all of us gathered in front of the fire. We would light the candles when he started, and by the end they would be guttering low and the young children fast asleep. I was trying to come up with something when Abe spoke up. "Perhaps Mr. Murdoch would be willing to volunteer?"
"Oh, I couldn't." Will set his pipe down, shaking his head. "Trust me, you don't want to have to listen to me."
Abe fixed him with a firm look. "You are going to be the man of this family soon, this is one of the duties you will have to take up." Abe stood, groaning slightly, and grabbed the battered old book from its resting place by the tree. I had placed it there, retrieved from its place in the library this morning. I hadn't even thought about who would read, I had assumed Abe would. He had before, when Father once spent Christmas dozing in the chair after a few too many whiskeys. Abe handled the thin volume with care, stopping in front of Will's chair, "Just read, Mr. Murdoch. We will all be the gladder for it."
Will gently took the book, opening it slowly. I could hear the leather spine creak slightly as he did. He stared at the nameplate, the faded dedication from Grandfather to Father. To my son, Gareth. May this story keep you true to what this season is about. I set a mug of eggnog by him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Please Will, for all of us." He looked up at me, a slight panic in his eyes. I settled next to him, giving him a smile as I reached over to turn the page. I tapped the page, but he still didn't speak. So I looked out to the others, "Maybe we should all start together?"
There were some slight snorts from the Fields boys, but we dutifully intoned the first words of that classic story, "Marley was dead to begin with. There was no doubt about that." A yearly reading quickly drilled at least the first words into you, at least it did to me, and I looked to Will. "See Will, you can't be worse than David. He can't even remember the first words."
"Just because I can't recite some dusty old book from memory-" David grumbled from his chair, quickly cut off by a glare from Abe. "Sorry, please Mr. Murdoch, read for us."
Will started slowly, almost hesitatingly, but by the time the Ghost of Christmas Past arrived he was happily reading to an enthralled audience. Rachel muttered something about him not doing the voices, and though Morgan tried to shush her, Will had heard and immediately began trying to do different accents, or change the pitch of his voice, for the characters as they emerged. He especially relished the Ghost of Christmas Present, his voice booming out as he called for Scrooge to come in, and know him better man. He deepened his Scottish accent as he did so, something that I greatly enjoyed. I always loved when that burr crept into his voice, although he tried to suppress it most of the time. I once had made him actually swear in Gaelic, it had involved a great deal of kissing while dragging my nails down his scalp and some discreet movement below the waist. He had refused to tell me what he had said, and no matter how I tried he kept his silence on that matter, his silence on other matters ended quite quickly that night. But he kept to English for now, although he let his brogue roll and rise with his speech. The girls thought it very funny, and I even caught Joshua grinning as he sipped at his eggnog and listened.
The candles were low, and I admit that even I had stopped listening closely, full of drink and warm by Will's side, by the time Scrooge had arrived at the Fred's to celebrate Christmas, a changed man for all the better. Rigel had abandoned his bone in a corner, coming to curl up by my feet. Mary and Rachel were fast asleep in their father's arms, he had moved over to the settee to collect them, but were wearily roused when he stood. Abe smiled, holding out his hand to Will. "Thank you Mr. Murdoch, you've saved me a headache getting them to sleep at home."
Will shook it happily, "I actually quite enjoyed it, thank you for joining us tonight."
Morgan, hustling the girls up and into their coats, laughed. "We're here every year, Mr. Murdoch. But now, it's time for everyone to get home and get to bed." The boys, struggling into their own coats, loudly complimented everything that we had served and the decorations, but were out the door and into the snow in a dash. I watched them head out, our coachman having stayed up to drive them home, and wound up staying by the window as they went out of sight. The lights on the street were glowing against the snow quite beautifully, and I watched flurries blow across the yard.
I felt Will's hand find my waist as he joined me at the door. He placed a kiss on the top of my head, "They're a lovely family." I looked at our warped reflections in the window, he had shed his jacket and was in his waistcoat, while my hair had come out of its pins at some point and curled around my shoulders.
I reached for a curl, guiding it back behind my ear. "Just be glad they don't come for Christmas morning, not after Ezekiel and I almost lit the kitchen on fire while the adults were talking one year."
"You lit the kitchen on fire?" He chuckled, drawing me closer.
"I said almost. We wanted hot chocolate and we couldn't find the cook, it's not my fault I didn't how to light a stove when I was nine." I grumbled, leaning into him. He snorted, shaking his head slightly, before guiding us back to the warmth of the parlor. He wound up the phonograph and set a record on, a scratchy version of Auld Lang Syne playing. I heard Will softly singing along with it as he made his way back to the leather chair pulled up close to the fire. His pipe, abandoned during the reading, was lit again and I pulled Mother's sewing to me. Rigel had moved from being curled up to laying flat on his side, dead to the world. I saw Will shake his head at him, a smile on his face. It felt so right to sit in front of the fire with him, listening to the music while we each were absorbed in our own little worlds. We were together though, and I occasionally caught him glancing at me, a look of contentment on his face.
I set the rocking chair to rocking while I threaded a needle, stitching the scraps together and placing the pins back in their packet. The gentle motion seemed to help me with the work, almost setting a pace to follow. Mother joined us, having gone to thank the staff for all their efforts tonight, but she kept the silence as she drew out another piece of the quilt to work on. Together we quickly had two blocks finished, both placed back into her basket with the other completed squares. I pulled another pinned section, my fingers fumbling the thread through the eyes of the needle. The eggnog was making me a bit clumsy, though I tried to keep going. But the fire was warm, and the slight smell of tobacco tickled my nose, my eyes growing heavy. Mother kept stitching though, even as I felt a slight doze beginning. I did my best to keep myself awake though, wanting this peaceful night to last as long as it could.
The clock chimed ten before Mother stood, placing her sewing back into its basket. "I am off, do not stay up too late you two."
Considering my own sewing was currently lying forgotten in my lap, I didn't think we'd be long behind her. "Of course not Mother, good night."
"Yes, good night, Mrs. Dalian." Will had set his pipe down awhile ago, instead nursing a glass of whiskey he had retrieved.
Mother shook her head, "William, you may call me Ruth, you know. It's quite alright." She gave a chuckle as she headed off. I poured myself another mug of eggnog before bringing a hassock over by Will's chair, kneeling down and watching the fire. It was blazing cheerily, and I leaned against Will's knee as I watched the flames dance. I felt his hand find my head, fingers gently weaving through my hair. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feeling of his fingers on my scalp. I let my eyes close, simply leaning against him and enjoying the moment. The fire began to die down though, and Will woke me from a doze as he stood. The climb up the stairs was not helped by the amount of eggnog I had indulged in, and Will had to steady me a couple times as we headed up. I gave him a kiss every time he did, and deliberately stumbled several times before I stepped into my rooms, pulling him by the hand into the dressing room. Rigel had wearily followed us up the stairs, and proceeded to stare at us as we moved into the one room forbidden to him. Will's hands were warm, and I kissed the knuckles happily. "I'm going to need you to help me out of this."
"Ana," Will whispered, trying to gently pull away. "We can't tonight. I'm so tired."
"So am I, so get this off me so we can go to bed." I turned around, lifting my hair to reveal the buttons going down the back. Whatever his reticence he quickly had the dress unbuttoned, the silk pooling at my feet as it slid off. I shuddered a bit at the chill in the air, glad for my petticoat and stockings. His hands were lighter though as he brushed his fingers against my corset laces, tracing them as he moved his hands up. I shivered at the feeling of his fingers against the back of my neck. I couldn't help the little moan as his hands settled on my shoulders, letting my head loll back, "Mmm, Will, please. Just untie it." They dropped, quickly unlacing the corset. By the time I had unhooked it and turned around he had left, the door propped open. I shook my head, always bewildered by how he could keep himself so calm and controlled when I felt like wanting to take him to bed.
Not that I had any intention of letting him ravish me tonight, even if he finally decided to. I was so full and tired, all I wanted was to sleep.
I came back out in my night gown, Will already in his pajamas and sitting on the bed. The bed was piled high with blankets, and I practically collapsed onto them. God, it was difficult to keep my eyes open, and I reached out for Will. He laid back on the bed, our heads resting next to each other, pillowed by the blankets. I smiled at him, looking at his blue eyes and pale skin, flushed with drink and warmth. "Thank you for reading tonight Will, it meant a lot. To all of us."
He reached over, brushing his fingers against my hair. "I didn't want to force myself into your father's place."
I moved, coming to lay alongside him, our legs dangling off the side of the bed. I let my hand travel over his chest, letting it rest on him when I propped myself up on my elbow. I slid my hand around his shoulder, enjoying how his breath sped up a little. He stilled when I shifted myself onto his chest. "You were wonderful," I kissed one cheek, "And you didn't force yourself at all," I kissed his other cheek, "Even if you had to be told to do the voices." I kissed him properly, and gave an embarrassing little squeak as he suddenly flipped us without breaking the kiss, so he was on top.
He held himself up on his elbows, his face close to mine. I felt my own breathing speed up, and he dropped his mouth to my ears. The tickle of his breath on my ear almost had me moaning, even though he kept his hands to himself. "I hadn't realized they were necessary."
I laced my fingers around the back of his neck, holding him close. "Oh, you always have to do the voices. It's tradition."
I felt his breath on my cheek, his lips gently pressing against me. "Well, we can't mess with tradition." Will stood up then, moving over to get under the covers and lay down. I was disappointed to lose the feeling of him over me, it always made me feel both threatened and safe at the same time, enough to drive me to madness in the most pleasing way. Instead of loudly sighing as I wanted to, I simply lay down next to him and pressed myself close. He was so warm I barely needed the blankets.
I did miss something though, and gently touched his shoulder. "Will, let him come up tonight."
"He can lay in front of the fire." He grumbled, although he cracked one eye open and looked at me. "Fine, Rigel. Up." Rigel listened to Will and always obeyed his orders like a soldier obeys a general, so he quickly was up on the end of the bed. Although he decided to show his thanks, coming up to lick Will, and stepping quite hard on his chest. Will spluttered, "I knew I'd regret letting the damn dog up."
"Rigel, lay down." I pushed Rigel back to the end of the bed, curling my arm around Will. "Does it hurt terribly?"
"He weighs at least a hundred pounds," He rubbed at his chest. "Of course it hurts."
"Should I kiss it better?" I let my hand hover over his chest, ready to unbutton his pajamas.
He wound his fingers through mine, gently tugging me back down. "I think I can survive, and we should not be getting up to anything with your mother here." I sighed, settling back into the pillows. Mother didn't know about Will spending a few nights here, and the last thing we needed was to get up to something and have Rigel alert everyone in the house with his barking. So we both settled down in the dark, the curtains drawn to shut out the gray light of dawn that would soon come. I curled up against Will, sleep coming quickly.
The next thing I knew, Will was gently shaking my shoulder. I sat up, stretching and giving a most unladylike yawn. It was one of those quiet Christmas mornings, where the silence is almost tense with anticipation of what is to come. A grand dinner again, Christmas presents, the nervousness to see exactly what you had received, or how those you gave gifts to would react. I drew on a dressing gown while Will belted on a smoking jacket. The cold floor was counteracted by thick slippers, and we quietly climbed down to the parlor. Rigel padded down after us, nosing around the parlor until he found his bone again. The presents, placed last night, were still piled around the tree and a few coals in the fireplace were still smoldering. Will knelt down, grabbing a few pieces of wood and quickly getting it lit again. By the time Mother appeared in her own dressing gown, it was quite a cheery little blaze.
"Merry Christmas, Mother." I said, reaching for a gift and holding it out to her.
She picked at the wrapping, revealing a small gold hair comb. She looked over to me, "Merry Christmas, Anastasia." Together, the three of us set to unwrapping the gifts, exclaiming over every little thing. Mother and I had gifted each other jewelry and clothes, books and cosmetics. Will had given simple gifts, we had offered him access to our accounts to buy presents, but he had refused, using his salary to buy presents. It was a delightful mix of shirtwaists, new pins and needles, lengths of fabric from his various trips. He had gotten Mother a pair of smooth white leather gloves in London, flowers embroidered on the cuffs that she immediately drew on.
Will had amassed a varied collection; new starched collars, a gold money clip and a matching golden pocket watch, a pair of brightly shined shoes, a book of Scottish poems that Mother had had engraved for him with his name, and he was quite glad with the last gift he opened from me. I had absconded with his handkerchief earlier in the month, embroidering his initials onto a corner with a navy silk thread whenever I had a moment alone, and had put it under the tree.
He ran his fingers over the letters, "Oh Ana, this is wonderful. Thank you." Will pressed a small present into my hands, "It's not much, but here."
I opened it, finding a beautiful blue silk shawl with gold embroidery nestled inside. I let it run through my fingers, coiling it back into its box. "Will, it's beautiful." I felt him settle next me, wrapping an arm around me. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. Mother gave a little sniff, she thought we were far too affectionate but had eventually gotten used to it, even though she tried her best to keep us proper. Will looked around, taking in the sight of the parlor, warm and cozy, the wrappings piled into a corner and the gifts in their own little piles in front of each of us. "Well, is it time for breakfast yet?"
Mother stood, brushing down her dressing gown. "Actually, there is one more gift." She reached into her pocket, drawing out a small package that she held out to him. "Merry Christmas William, and welcome to the family."
Will's fingers shook slightly as he took the package, and it was a minute before he had the wrapping off. I could see a tear spring to his eye as he took in the richly embroidered stocking in blue and silver, his name lovingly embroidered across the top. I looked to her, "This is incredible, Mother. How did you get it done?"
"I had time." She simply shrugged, turning to head out. "Are you coming for breakfast?" She swept out, leaving Will and I alone.
He still hadn't looked up from the stocking, I rose from the settee and held out a hand. "Come on Will, let's hang it up and go get something to eat." That seemed to break him out of his trance, he rubbed at his eyes for a moment and stood. He placed it on the nail that Father had occupied for so long, his knit one folded and placed on the mantle, hanging it next to mine. The two of them looked like mirrors of each other, and even I felt my throat close up a bit. It was good to see three stockings made by Mother's hand there again, even if her's was now the only one without a match.
Will stared at them for a minute. "Ana, I can't even begin to thank your Mother. This is, it's unbelievable."
I moved next to him, leaning against him as we both took in the sight. I thought for a moment about telling him that he should do something for her, that it was a gesture of her approval of everything, but I simply decided to kiss his cheek. "Merry Christmas, Will."
"Merry Christmas, Ana"