Thanks: Thanks again to my husband and Mara Trinity Scully for their beta-reading. And thanks again, also, to those who have taken the time to review! I seem to have lost some of you along the way, but that's all right. :)
Disclaimer: These characters don't belong to me. This fic, however, is mine. Please don't take it without my permission.
Chapter 11
Christmas
~
Christmas morning dawned cold and bright, fresh snow blanketing the streets and roofs of London below when Wendy stood at her bedroom window. The large stained-glass window that framed her thin, nightdress-clad body was festooned with fragrant spruce and cedar, tied here and there with red silk bows. The door and mantle, as well, wore holiday greenery, for every room in Aunt Millicent's fine house declared that this was Christmas time.
The house below was all a-bustle in preparation for the evening's festivities, for the entire Darling family would be joining them for dinner, as well as Dr. Carew, who had been invited before the dreadful pocket watch perfidy. Unfortunately, it would be exceedingly rude to withdraw an invitation once extended, and so he was yet expected to attend. In any case, a single man with no family should not be so uncharitably abandoned to spend Christmas alone, and so the Darlings too had invited their long-befriended family physician, the same Dr. Woodhouse who had treated Peter in the hospital. In doing so, they pleased Aunt Millicent by rounding out the expected number of guests to fourteen, for she was, if truth be told, somewhat superstitious about such things, and a dinner for thirteen would have made her rather nervous.
The formal dining room was prepared with two large tables, for the eight boys would sit together at one, while Aunt Millicent, Wendy's parents, Wendy herself, and the two gentleman doctors would sit at the other.
Both tables were beautifully dressed, each with a lovely centrepiece of white chrysanthemums adorned with sprigs of holly. Wreaths of holly also surrounded the base of each silver candlestick, each of which held a white ornamental candle with a crimson shade. Overhead, the chandeliers were draped with strings of cranberries and silver paper garlands, and all around the room the archways and doorways were framed in fragrant greenery.
It was all so lovely, it seemed almost a wonderland!
In the doorway leading from the entry to the drawing room, a spring of mistletoe was even suspended by a red velvet ribbon, for Aunt Millicent would honor every family Christmas tradition.
While the finishing touches were made to both the decorations and the meal, Wendy sat before the fire and admired the tree, for Aunt Millicent had erected a most wonderful Christmas tree, as well. In the style of her youth, she had chosen to light the tree with dozens of tiny candles, instead of with the new electric lights which had recently become so popular. The candles were lovely, flickering and winking among the branches, reminding Wendy of Neverland's fairies dancing within the forest.
Wendy looked lovely in her festive red-and-white gown, though Lottie had not laced her corset as tightly as she might have, lest it irritate Wendy's cough. Her skin was pale, faint blue veins visible at her temples if one looked closely, and her now almost ever-present fever caused a noticeable blush upon both of her cheeks. The contrast between the pink of her cheeks and the paleness of her skin was striking, but Wendy was still lovely, with her shining brown hair worn up and a gentle smile upon her lips.
As the dinner hour approached, the Darlings' carriage arrived and the doorbell rang, accompanied by a merry cacophony of conversation. Wendy eagerly went to the door and opened it wide, welcoming her entire family with hugs and kisses and truly happy smiles. As everyone made their way into the drawing room, introductions were made, lest Wendy and Aunt Millicent not remember their previous meeting of Dr. Woodhouse during Peter's hospitalization.
Noticing where he stood, the white-bearded, most remarkably tall Dr. Woodhouse took Aunt Millicent's hand in his and bowed gallantly, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand. At her surprised gasp and blush, he nodded upward at the mistletoe with a cheeky grin. "I am honored to again make your acquaintance, Miss Tilney," he said merrily. "I have oft heard how fine a woman you are, and I know it must be true for you to be so entrusted with the Darlings' beloved only daughter."
Blushing even more brightly, which was surprisingly becoming and made her look remarkably young and girlish, Aunt Millicent shyly withdrew her hand from Dr. Woodhouse's grasp and stepped more fully into the drawing room, where Mary Darling -- surrounded by her family -- watched with a secret matchmaker's pleased eye.
Everyone exclaimed over the tree, though the boys seemed interested only in the brightly wrapped gifts beneath it, perhaps because the packages must remain untouched until after dinner and were therefore an even greater temptation. But all agreed that the tree itself was superbly decorated. In addition to the tiny candles, the tree was decorated with apples, gingerbread, and small net bags filled with nuts and sweets. The most recent fashion would have called for glass balls with small candles inside, but Aunt Millicent preferred for the tree to reflect her own childhood memories, and so it did. At the very summit, a silver tinsel star shone down upon the gathering, as if bestowing a Christmas blessing.
Much conversation was had, and Wendy was hugged repeatedly by many rather boisterous boys who clasped her perhaps a bit too roughly, given her delicate health, but she was so very happy to see them all that she cared not at all, for she loved her family very much. Nibs, in particular, seemed to hold her close perhaps longer than necessary before releasing her rather suddenly with a curious blush.
The set time for dinner approached ... and then passed ... and still Dr. Carew had neither arrived nor sent word. It was terribly impolite. At length, Aunt Millicent was forced to instruct Lottie to remove one place-setting from the table, which quite ruined the effect of the carefully placed silver candlesticks, but the aesthetic imbalance could not be helped at this late hour. And, in truth, Aunt Millicent was not truly grieved in her heart at Dr. Carew's absence, for that man had become quite odious to her and any time spent in his presence was painful.
All sat down to dinner, and exclaimed over the roast goose, which was quite fat and delicious. Conversation was swift and jolly, and Dr. Woodhouse seemed to pay special attention to Aunt Millicent, though not inappropriately so. Hesitant after her disappointment with Dr. Carew, Aunt Millicent tried to remain distant and aloof, but Dr. Woodhouse's cheerful good humor could not be resisted, and at length she too was laughing and smiling and talking as she had when only a girl.
If Wendy did not talk so energetically as everyone else, few noticed. She smiled much, quiet pleasure clear upon her lovely face, and yet there was also a sadness about her ... a distance. In the company of so many healthy young boys, the pallor of her skin was more apparent, the fever brightness of her eyes more clear. The wise Dr. Woodhouse was perhaps the only person present, however, who realized what he was seeing. This was an evening for merriment and not for solemnity, but that tall and well-trusted gentleman resolved to speak to the girl's parents and aunt as soon as possible afterward, at some more appropriate time.
When their appetites had been most delectably satisfied, all adjourned to the drawing room to admire the tree once more and gather 'round the fireplace. The boys clamored for their gifts, and so packages were distributed to all, for there were even gifts for Dr. Woodhouse, as was only polite.
The boys received skates, wind-up soldiers, telescopes, and trumpets, as well as the less exciting gifts of mittens and mufflers and cookies. The boys' favorite gifts, however, were the different-colored pirate hats Mother had made for each of them of pressed felt, and the play scabbards and cutlasses to match.
Slightly immediately jumped to his feet and exclaimed, "Have at thee!" while attempting to impale an equally enthusiastic John, but Aunt Millicent and Father quickly urged both boys to sit down for the moment. "This is not a farm!" insisted Father, as was his wont when the boys became overly noisy. "Others still have gifts to open, and it would not do for you to destroy them with your play."
Father himself received embroidered suspenders, a chamois eyeglass cleaner elegantly bound in a crewel-stitched cover, a cut-glass inkstand, and embroidered bed slippers. He insisted that each gift was precisely what he had wished to receive, and that he could not wish for more.
Mother received a silk-lined sewing basket with various useful accessories (from Aunt Millicent, of course), as well as many very pretty handkerchiefs, some fine stationary, and a pen-wiper in the shape of a water lily. Wendy's gift for her was a strawberry-shaped pin cushion which was quite pretty enough to have been used as a tree decoration. Opening wide her arms, Mother tried to hug all of her children at once, but found herself quite unequal to eight growing boys and one thin girl. She was forced to hug them in groups of three or four, kissing each upon the cheek and smiling her lovely smile.
Aunt Millicent admired the knitting bag which Wendy had made for her and smiled a polite and patient smile at the doilies the boys had chosen (which did not suit her taste at all, for their style was far too modern). The beautiful cloak from George and Mary was immediately tried on and much admired by all present, for it suited her very well. And from Dr. Woodhouse there was a porcelain hat pin painted with roses and lilacs.
"Oh!" cried Aunt Millicent. "It is simply lovely! But it is too much!" In truth, the gift was not inappropriately expensive, but Aunt Millicent was quite unaccustomed to receiving gifts from men, particularly handsome men of an appropriate age who kissed her hand beneath the mistletoe. She was quite flustered, and the girlish blush rose to her cheeks once more.
"It is both a Christmas gift, Miss Tilney, and an expression of my gratitude that you have welcomed me into your fine home on such a festive occasion." With a self-deprecating smile, he added, "Christmas can be a very lonely time for an old bachelor such as myself, and instead I find myself surrounded by good cheer. I have you and your kind family to thank, and I am grateful."
When it looked as if Aunt Millicent might once again insist modestly that the gift was unnecessary and other such politenesses, the good doctor explained, "Mr. and Mrs. Darling gave me some idea of your tastes, knowing you well as they do. I do hope the gift is not inappropriate."
Suddenly faced with shaming not only her guest but also her family by continued expressions of reluctance, Aunt Millicent was forced to accept the gift with a gracious smile, assuring Dr. Woodhouse, "No, indeed. It is a perfectly lovely gift, and useful as well. I shall wear it gladly. Thank you, Dr. Woodhouse, for your thoughtfulness."
In reply, the doctor merely smiled and nodded his head, pleased that his gift had been accepted by their generous hostess. He even, it might be noted, restrained himself from giving Miss Millicent Tilney a jolly wink, for he worried that the lady might be offended or frightened by such an innocent expression of camaraderie.
When it came to Wendy's gifts, she received hair ribbons and handkerchiefs from the boys, a surprisingly thoughtful book of adventure stories from Dr. Woodhouse (who winked merrily when she thanked him, for he had heard the boys often tell of her youthful exuberance and had hoped to encourage her in this age of suffragettes), a lovely broach from Father, and a lovely silver thimble from Aunt Millicent.
Wendy paused to caress the silver thimble with one trembling finger, remembering the gold one she had given to Peter Pan so long ago. This thimble, however, was much more elegant, engraved around the base with her name and a faintly-stamped floral motif. It was really quite beautiful. Thanking Aunt Millicent warmly, Wendy slid the thimble into its small embroidered pouch and suspended it from a cord around her wrist, as if it were a dance card. The slight weight was comforting to her, knowing as she did that a thimble was within, regarding it almost as a connection to Peter so far away.
But Wendy's most wonderful gift of all was from Mother, who had sewn for her a handkerchief, embroidered with Wendy's name. But for the embroidery thread, Mother had used hair taken from every member of the family, shading them together to beautiful effect.
"Oh, Mother!" Wendy cried, the sheer sentiment of the gift bringing tears to her eyes, and sending her flying into her mother's arms for a deeply loving embrace. Looking about her at every beloved face, Wendy tucked the handkerchief into the embroidered pouch with her thimble and then pressed the pouch close to her heart. "I shall keep it with me always, and have each of you with me thereby." Dashing a tear from her cheek, Wendy took her place again upon the divan beside Aunt Millicent, though her hand remained pressed to her breast, and her eyes continued to shine with moisture.
When all gifts had been opened and admired, Mother played the piano and all sang Christmas carols. The boys had little patience for such slow songs as "Silent Night," and so instead everyone sang more energetic carols such as "Jingle Bells" and "Deck the Halls," with the boys leaping about and cavorting merrily along with the Fa-la-la-la-la's, making everyone else laugh at their antics ... even Aunt Millicent.
During a break in the singing, young Michael leapt to his feet and begged Dr. Woodhouse most adorably, "Will you be a pirate, Dr. Woodhouse? I should like to kill you!" at which the good doctor laughed and glanced at the boy's parents for their opinion. When Mary smiled benignly and George looked only mildly discomfited, Dr. Woodhouse obligingly took the burgundy tricorn hat from Michael's hand and went to stand in the center of the room, donning the plumed headwear and brandishing a sword with a devilish look upon his face.
Familiar with the boys' games, Dr. Woodhouse curled his right hand into a hook, wielding the cutlass in his left hand as if daring the boy to charge him. "Brimstone and gall, man!" he growled, unable to prevent a smile from touching his lips.
"Captain Hook, you shall die!" shouted Michael with a blow of his sword, showing off for the gathered company. Dr. Woodhouse countered his charge easily, and they proceeded to clash swords in an energetic display for the family, who watched with indulgent eyes.
The expression in Wendy's eyes, however, was not indulgence but shock. Dr. Woodhouse's gray beard and mustache were the wrong color, and his eyes were brown instead of blue, but the sight of the burgundy tricorn hat upon his head, pluming feathers wafting as he moved about, Wendy had been struck with a sudden suspicion.
The icy blue eyes...
The dashing dark beard and mustache...
The dislike for pocket watches...
The face which looked oddly familiar to her...
The strange and unexplainable menace which had caused the hair on the back of her neck to stand on end...
No! It could not be possible! Could he truly have been disguised all this time, with the short brilliantined hair, stylish clothing, and hamburg hats? No! It simply was not possible!
Dr. Carew could not be ... could he? But then what had he been doing with Aunt Millicent? And what evil might he be planning now? Surely she must be wrong, for Dr. Carew simply could not be Captain Hook. For why would a pirate -- a dead pirate! -- be in London, masquerading as a gentleman doctor? But now that the idea had entered her head, Wendy could think of little else.
Wendy had, after all, spent rather a short period of time in Captain Hook's company in Neverland, and so perhaps she had not remembered his facial features accurately. Dr. Carew, at any rate, looked nothing like a pirate, with such tidily short hair parted in the center ... wearing such modern clothes and hats, politely eating mutton cutlets and commenting on the weather.
But then Wendy thought again of how much more familiar he had seemed with his dashing mustache and pointed beard. And then she remembered also the mysterious small hole in his left ear. No, fashionable London gentlemen do not wear ornaments in their ears ... but pirates do!
"I feel rather tired," Wendy said suddenly, stopping Dr. Woodhouse and Michael in their duel. "I think I shall go to bed early."
Though all seemed disappointed by this pronouncement, they wished her goodnight with many hugs and kisses, and Wendy went on her way, hearing voices raised in song behind her once more, for the evening was still young.
"Turn out the lamps when I have gone," Wendy whispered to Lottie when she had reached her bedchamber, "and tell Aunt Millicent that I am sleeping if she asks."
Luckily, Lottie had extensive experience with hiding Wendy's more inappropriate adventures, having covertly scrubbed many a soiled dress when the young lady returned from Oxford Street or Whitechapel, and so Lottie simply smiled and nodded, pleased to be of service to a lady who had been so consistently kind and respectful toward her.
"And fetch Harry!" Wendy whispered hurriedly. "I shall need a driver!"
To Be Continued ...