Title: Traditions of Christmas
Author: Sillimaure
Summary: A brief interlude during the courtship of Elizabeth Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy. Together they discover some traditions of Christmas which will endure for the rest of their lives. Set in the Acting on Faith universe.
Rating: General
Author's Notes: A short which I based in the same universe as my novel Acting on Faith. This short story—and the one which Deja posted last week—are featured on our blog, which can be found at rowlandandeye dot com. The posting of this story on the blog is also part of our "find the quote" contest. Please go there and respond, if you'd like to win a copy of Acting on Faith.
Traditions of Christmas
Elizabeth watched dubiously as her betrothed knelt in front of her, fastening a pair of ice skates to her boots. "Are you certain about this, William?"
"What?" exclaimed Fitzwilliam, a look of mock astonishment on his features. "The intrepid Miss Elizabeth Bennet cannot find her way around a small pond on a pair of skates?"
"Your mood is entirely too ebullient, sir," accused Elizabeth.
"It is not every day that I am allowed to teach you something new, my dear," replied Fitzwilliam as he gave one of the skates a tug to tighten the straps. "You are far too independent. I relish the chance to be with you as you try something new."
"But skates?" persisted Elizabeth "Shall we not instead try something which does not involve strapping something to my feet which shall only make the ice even slipperier?"
Elizabeth knew very well that she sounded petulant, but she was enjoying provoking her betrothed. He was a dear man who provided for her every comfort and need whenever he was able, despite the fact that they were not actually married yet, but he was taking entirely too much pleasure in the fact that she had never actually been ice-skating before. She suspected his state of mind was primarily due to his astonishment that an outdoor activity existed which she had not previously tried.
"Is she still complaining?" interrupted Anne as she glided up to them. She executed a little pirouette in coming to a stop at the edge of the pond and then stood smiling down at Elizabeth with amusement.
"Speaking of ebullience," groused Elizabeth with a glower, "I am afraid your cousin appears to have caught your mood, William."
Anne only smiled at her, and Elizabeth could tell that she was suppressing her mirth with some effort, though it was clearly a near thing.
"I still cannot fathom how you, of all people, know how to ice skate," said Elizabeth. "I should have thought that your lady mother, 'excessively attentive' as she is to all of your concerns in general and your bodily health in particular, would never have allowed you to learn to ice skate. I was not aware that ice was a part of Kent's landscape. Is it not the garden of the kingdom?"
"It is, though that does not mean that we do not have winter, as you well know," replied Anne, though her amusement never faded. "And besides, I have not always been thus. As a young girl, I played as any young girl would, though it is true that my mother was still very protective of me. And as I grew older, there were, admittedly, some instances in which my dear cousins would sneak me out to the pond at Pemberley for a little ice skating while my aunts and uncles occupied my mother."
At this piece of intelligence, Elizabeth turned to her betrothed and regarded him with an astonished air. "Did I hear you correctly, Miss de Bourgh? The great and ever-proper Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy actually condescended to sneak?"
"I have been known to do my fair share sneaking," was William's mild reply.
Dubious, Elizabeth regarded him, knowing very well that he was not as stiff as she had first thought him to be. Since their engagement, William had shown even more of a playful side to his character—especially where Elizabeth was concerned—than she had previously thought existed. Of course, it was up to her to provoke it wherever possible, as she simply adored seeing a smile on his countenance. Not that a smile was now a rare occurrence—his relations had commented many times on the effect his relationship with her had wrought on him. He had not had much reason to smile since the passing of his father.
"Is Miss Bennet still reluctant to come on the ice?" said Colonel Fitzwilliam as he skated up to them and executed a sudden stop, sending ice crystals showering through the air. With him was Georgiana, who glided atop the pond effortlessly, as though she had been born with a pair of skates attached to her feet.
Elizabeth's narrowed as she stared at Colonel Fitzwilliam, expressing her displeasure at his entirely too jovial tone. For that matter, her sisters, who were following behind the Colonel, were showing a disturbing proficiency on the ice. She knew that Lydia and Kitty at had times visited the pond, though she had not known just how skilled they were at traversing across it. In hindsight, she wished they had spent even more time ice-skating than they had in years past, as it was one of the only activities they indulged in which did not involve redcoats, flirting, or exposing themselves to all and sundry. Even Mary, Elizabeth noticed, was showing a competence, if not a flair, that was quite unexpected.
"You are looking at this in entirely the wrong fashion, Miss Bennet," said the Colonel with a twinkle in his eye. Elizabeth by now knew the man well enough to discern that such an expression meant trouble. Unfortunately, she was correct.
"This is an opportunity to be in the arms of your betrothed before you are actually married."
The tinkling of Anne's laughter filled the small clearing, echoed by the Colonel's guffaw and Kitty's giggle. Georgiana, too, was smiling, though a laugh did not escape her lips, and Mary, as Elizabeth could have predicted, appeared to be slightly scandalized.
William, however, dear man that he was, merely glanced up at the Colonel with promised retribution in his eyes.
"Ah, I can see the besotted and protective suitor has made an appearance," said he, though he clearly was not intimidated in the least. "I shall leave you to it. Come, Anne," continued the Colonel, taking his cousin's arm, "let us leave the lovers to their own devices."
They turned away and began to skate across the pond, followed closely by Mary and Kitty. Georgiana, however, glided forward and favored Elizabeth with a smile.
"You will learn quickly, Elizabeth," said she. "William is a very good instructor, and I know that you can do anything that you attempt."
Elizabeth returned the girl's smile warmly. "Then how could I refuse? I shall not disappoint you, Georgiana."
"I doubt that is even possible," said Georgiana.
Then Elizabeth, feeling playful, said: "Though I have neither genius nor taste when it pertains to skating, I am certain that my vanity will give me application. But I do not doubt that it will likewise give me a pedantic air and conceited manner which would injure a higher degree of excellence than I am capable of reaching."
Georgiana and William laughed at her words.
"Oh, Lizzy!" exclaimed Georgiana with some enthusiasm. "I shall certainly love to have you for a sister!"
Upon seeing the young girl's look of embarrassment at her outburst, Elizabeth hastened to assure her: "As I will love having you for a sister, Georgie."
Smiling with delight, Georgiana turned and, after admonishing William to teach her properly, skated away.
"Shall we?" said Mr. Darcy as he stood and extended his hand.
Nodding, Elizabeth pushed herself up off her seat, grateful that the snow at the edge of the pond was soft enough that her skates sunk into it and provided her with a little stability and balance. It would not do to fall on her behind before she even made it to the ice!
"Come, Elizabeth," said her suitor, his reassurance warming her. "I shall guide you and will not allow you to fall."
Though she did not say anything in response, Elizabeth followed him the few steps to the ice; then, after he had stepped out onto the hard surface himself, she followed him and put her own foot out as well.
And of course, she promptly had it slide out from under her. She clung to Fitzwilliam for dear life as he performed his office and supported her while she tried to gain her balance.
"I am certain you have already apprehended this fact, my dear," said Fitzwilliam, "but standing on skates is quite different from standing on your boots."
"Do tell," was Elizabeth's dry reply. She managed to straighten herself and stand on the blades, and she soon felt that she would be well as long as she did not attempt to move.
"Indeed," said Fitzwilliam, ignoring her sarcasm. "Walking on skates is, of course, possible, but it is slow going. You must be much more careful of how you move. If you move as though you were walking on a tiled floor, you to fall."
He moved away from her, leaving her standing at the side of the pond. "When you wish to move, you must use the sharpness of the blade to gain purchase enough to push off. Like this."
He dug the blade of his left skate into the ice and pushed, gliding gracefully away from her. He pushed off several more times, turning and gliding toward her and then stopping in front of her much like the Colonel had, but with much less exuberance.
"I doubt I shall be able to stop so readily," said Elizabeth.
"Stopping does take much more practice," answered he. "But I shall stay with you, so you shall not be required to stop by yourself today.
"Now come; let us go."
Stepping to her side, Fitzwilliam put a hand around her waist and grasped her by the arm; together, they pushed off and began to skate across the pond. At first, Elizabeth did not do much—she merely allowed him to propel them forward, gliding along with him at his guidance. But as they continued, being the intrepid woman that she was, she started to move with him, and slowly she began to become accustomed to the motions of skating, though she was well aware that she would not become a proficient so quickly.
As she became accustomed to what she was doing, she was able to pay a little more attention to her surroundings. The pond on which they skated was situated at the very back of Longbourn's property, in the maze of wilderness beyond where Samuel Lucas had accosted her only the month previous.
Not wanting thoughts of that odious man to put a damper on her time with her betrothed, Elizabeth concentrated again on the environs. The scene truly was idyllic. A blanket of white snow covered the area, the result of a particularly heavy fall only the night before, and the white coating decorated the trees with its sparkling brilliancy. Even those trees bereft of their summer mantle appeared somehow majestic and beautiful despite the fact that they were sleeping out the winter. The boughs of the evergreen trees were also heavy with the white powder, lending them a festive air, much as the decorated trees of which Elizabeth had heard tales in the past.
"Elizabeth!" shouted Anne as she skated up to them. "I see that you are becoming accustomed to the ice!"
"But I must practice much more if I am ever to be accepted as being an accomplished ice-skater by your lady mother," replied Elizabeth with a laugh.
"Oh, but my mother does not skate," said Anne. "Of course, if she had, then she would be a true proficient, you know."
They laughed together at Anne's imitation of her mother while William looked on with an indulgent smile.
"When you have become a proficient," continued Anne after a moment, "you must join us in a game of tag."
"But if I do that, then I shall immediately be required to catch one of you, which I shall never succeed in doing. I think that I will instead simply skate with William."
"Then I shall leave you to it," said Anne with a laugh before she once again skated away.
A few minutes later, William prodded: "Are you looking forward to Christmas?"
"I am," said Elizabeth with a smile. "It is my favorite time of the year. And you shall certainly see how the Bennet family celebrates the season."
"I am anticipating it greatly, I assure you," replied William. "Though Georgiana and I have spent Christmas with the Matlocks, some years we have had only each other for company. A large gathering with many friends is a welcome change."
Elizabeth looked on him with feigned astonishment. "Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy, a man who hates large gatherings, is actually looking forward to Christmas with my voluble mother?"
"There will be many others in attendance apart from your mother," said William, his features betraying his amusement. "After all, am I not now her favorite future son-in-law?"
"You are her only future son-in-law," pointed out Elizabeth.
"This only ensures the firmness of my position."
He was being entirely too smug, Elizabeth thought, but she decided to allow it to pass.
Instead of trying to chip away at that smugness, she asked: "Are you looking forward to Mr. Bingley's return?"
His amusement faded in a grimace, though that was not her intention. "I am," said he. "The Hursts are at Netherfield already, I am afraid. I am sure you are aware that Hurst is not the most interesting conversationalist, and Mrs. Hurst is not much better when Miss Bingley is not there to direct her thoughts."
"But it must improve her to a certain extent."
Fitzwilliam laughed. "That cannot be disputed."
Elizabeth laughed along with him before she asked him another question. "So what shall I expect Christmas-time to be like as Mrs. Darcy? Do you have any traditions passed down from your parents which you wish to continue?"
"Whatever traditions you bring with you should suffice, my dear."
"I will indeed be most happy to share," said Elizabeth. "But surely you must have some as well."
"We do," confirmed Fitzwilliam. "We decorate the house with boughs of holly, festive candles, and all manner of ribbons and other trimmings of the season. The most prominent of our traditions, however, is our Christmas tree."
Elizabeth turned to him with some surprise. "You decorate a tree?"
"In actuality, we have not had a tree since my mother died." His countenance had turned pensive with introspection, and Elizabeth knew he was remembering back to a time when his mother had been alive. "She insisted upon having a Christmas tree decorated with ribbons, nuts, fruits, and candles every year."
"Was she not ahead of her time?" asked Elizabeth curiously. "I had understood that Queen Charlotte had introduced the practice to England only ten years ago."
"And it still has not truly been accepted, except by those in the highest circles," agreed Fitzwilliam. "But the custom is much older in certain areas in Germany. My mother visited some distant relations in that country when she was a girl, and she was so enamored of the custom that she insisted upon it when she returned. Her father indulged her, and the Fitzwilliams have decorated a tree at Christmas ever since. My mother brought the custom with her when she married my father.
"But with my mother's death, my father could not bear to carry on the tradition. Though we still observed the event and performed some of the more traditional customs, our Christmases became much less prominent after that."
Throughout the course of his narrative, Fitzwilliam's voice had changed from introspective to wistful, leaving Elizabeth to wish that she had not provoked such painful memories. And so, eager to restore his former good spirits, she responded:
"Then we shall have to continue the custom, if it is not too painful for you."
Fitzwilliam turned and gazed at her, and she fancied she could see his heart in his eyes. "I believe that I shall be eager to experience the happiness I felt with my mother once more. The resumption of that particular tradition could never bring pain, I assure you."
"And I will do whatever it takes to make you happy," replied Elizabeth. "For I love you so very dearly."
"And I you," replied her betrothed.
They skated on in silence for several more moments, each basking in the warmth of love and the companionship of the other. Elizabeth gazed about the pond, watching her sisters skate with the Colonel, Anne, and Georgiana. This was what Christmas was about, she decided. The close ties of family, the observance of the Savior's birth, and the hope of peace throughout the land. And this year would be the first of many such wonderful times spent together with these wonderful people—of that, she was certain.
"Perhaps we could persuade my mother to place a tree in our parlor," suggested Elizabeth. "I would love to begin our traditions together this year rather than wait until next."
"I am certain you are correct, my dearest Elizabeth," replied Mr. Darcy. "After all, I am her favorite son-in-law to be, am I not?"
Elizabeth simply laughed.