The Private Diary of Elizabeth Quatermain, vol. III: The Wintering
by Lady Norbert
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30 November 1899
It is the fifth Sunday prior to Christmas, and so it was today that the preparation of the plum pudding had to begin. With Jaya's assistance, I went yesterday and purchased all of the needed ingredients, and today the cooks started to make the actual treat. In fact, there will be no less than five puddings -- one for the League and myself, and the other four to be shared by the crew members. It is my Christmas gift to them, as thanks for how hard they work to keep us all comfortable.
I supervised the creation of the League's pudding, and Jaya watched; he then instructed the cooks in their own language how to make the others. Once all the ingredients were put together, the other members of the League were summoned. I had to explain the matter to Tom and Nemo; plum pudding is considered good luck, and they say that wishes made while stirring the pudding will come true. So each of us stirred the pudding and made a wish, and then it was placed in a bag and hung up. Every Sunday between now and Christmas, we will take it down and stir it again.
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2 December 1899
It is snowing! London looks much prettier for it; the whiteness helps to alleviate some of the gloom from fog and soot. I have had to wear my warmest cape, the black wool with the ermine trim, for our ventures into town lately.
We continue to be busy in our sightseeing. There are things beyond London which I wish we could visit; I should, for instance, love to travel by rail to the northern part of the country where Stonehenge sits. But that, I think, will have to wait until another time. It may be that we can return after our trip to Tom's America; we shall have to see.
Today Mina and I went to town and ordered our bouquets for the wedding, as well as purchasing the necessary greens and other ornamentations needed to decorate the Nautilus for the festivities. We returned early and set to work at once. We are limiting the decorations primarily to the stateroom, where we take our meals, and the library, where we spend most of our leisure time. There is now a Christmas tree standing in each, trimmed in gold and silver. Wreaths adorn the doors, pine garland is draped from velvet ribbons attached to the walls, and on a whim, I purchased a differently-coloured stocking for each of the League members; I will hang these in the library after I finish embroidering the names on each. Mina found the idea terribly amusing.
The festivities of Christmas day will be held in the stateroom, where we will have what amounts to a supper ball -- dancing before and after our meal, as well as storytelling and games. It is also here that the wedding will take place on Christmas Eve; therefore, the decorative efforts were concentrated here. Skinner and Tom happened to enter just as I was perched on a ladder, hanging the final decoration from the ceiling.
"Is that what I think it is?" Skinner asked incredulously. "I haven't seen one of those in years."
"It is precisely what you think it is," I told him. "We are having a wedding here, after all -- I thought it was appropriate."
"What is it?" Tom was eyeing the unfamiliar ornament.
"We call it a kissing bough," I replied, tying the ribbon securely. It is a particularly jolly thing, I think, and it's certainly the biggest one I've ever seen. Two rings of evergreen boughs are joined together with ribbon streamers which extend to all corners of the room, and these rings are adorned with holly, fruit, candles (which we won't light until Christmas day), and a large sprig of mistletoe in the centre.
"On Christmas day," I told him, "anyone who is caught standing under the bough must accept a kiss from whoever stands nearest." Satisfied that the bough hung straight and neat, I descended the ladder, which one of Nemo's men promptly took away. "I think we're set, gentlemen. This should be a merry holiday."
"What else do we need?" asked Tom. "Anything I can do?"
I considered this. "I have stockings for everyone, which I'll hang in the library, but we do need things to go in them. Fruit is good, of course, but I don't think it'll be quite right without crackers."
"Crackers?"
I explained about crackers, the Christmas noise-makers which, when pulled apart, spill their contents all over the floor. "They're filled with toys, puzzles, treats, all manner of good things."
"And we need wassail," said Skinner. "Can't sing Christmas carols without a glass of wassail to wet the throat, can we?"
He was quite right, of course, and I'd neglected to think of it. "Tomorrow," I said, "we three will all go and buy these things."
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3 December 1899
There are no words to adequately describe the experience of Christmas shopping with Tom Sawyer and Rodney Skinner.
It proceeded quite usually, at first. We purchased a large quantity of crackers, a few more trinkets to hang from the Christmas trees, and some extra candles. I also remembered to buy the symbolic objects to be concealed inside our plum pudding. The pair of them took turns vanishing into various shops to buy things; I myself went to visit London's finest silversmith, to purchase a tea tray for Mina and Henry's wedding gift. It's a very pretty thing, sterling silver and oval in shape, engraved with their names and the wedding date. I really did not know what else to give them.
Lastly, we went to buy the ingredients for the wassail, the hot punch shared with Christmas carollers. I'd had to search through the library to find the right recipe, for in truth, I have never before made it myself. I sent the gentlemen into the liquor store for sherry, ale, and cider, while I myself went to buy the needed lemons, apples, and spices.
They took longer than I did, so I milled about, examining the special holiday items in the windows of the shops. I spotted a small, handsomely crafted wooden Nativity scene in one, and went in to buy it for my own quarters. As the proprietor handed me my package, I turned to leave and found myself nose-to-nose with, of all people, Constance Stuart.
"Elizabeth!" she cried warmly.
"Hello, Constance." I wanted to return her warmth, but it was difficult. Constance was once my best friend, but the friendship cooled a great deal after she married. I was her bridal attendant, and she had the groom I wanted for myself.
In he came then -- Robert. He was not quite as handsome as I remembered, in truth, but I still felt slightly weak when I beheld him. We shook hands cordially.
"I heard your father passed on earlier this year, I'm so very sorry," said Constance. "Is it true that you've quit Solomon Manor?"
"Oh -- yes, it's true," I said. She phrased it in a way that made it sound like the move had been entirely my choice, and I decided not to correct that presumption.
"Well, where are you now? I've not seen you in so long!"
"I've gone to stay with friends of Father's," I said truthfully. "We are touring Europe together; we've just come back from Greece. Right now we're preparing for two of them to be married on Christmas Eve."
We exited the shop while we talked, and I found Tom waiting by the door. Constance gave him a discreet once-over, taking in his stature and blond hair. "Oh, Tom," I said, "I'd like you to meet Robert and Constance Stuart." Wondering if he'd remember our conversation of some months prior, I added, "I was in their wedding."
A flicker of confusion darted across his face, but was immediately followed by perfect comprehension. "How do you do," he said politely, shaking hands. "Tom Sawyer. My wife's told me all about you."
Wife?
"Your -- your wife?" Constance was visibly startled. "When did you get married?" she asked me.
"Very recently," I said, hoping I didn't look surprised. She had no idea how recently.
"We should go, dear," Tom continued, relieving me of my purchase and giving me his arm. "The carriage is waiting, and we've still got a lot to do before we go home. It was very nice to meet you both," he added, lifting his hat. "Have a good Christmas."
I managed to keep perfectly quiet until we were back in the carriage, where Skinner was waiting for us. "What kept you two?" he asked.
Tom and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Whatever possessed you to do that, Tom?" I asked, when I'd recovered my wits sufficiently. Skinner looked thoroughly bewildered.
"I couldn't help it," Tom said, still chuckling. "I remembered what you said, about that guy tossing you over for your friend because of the money, and I had to say something. I heard you telling them you live with your father's friends and I didn't want them thinking you'd turned into a charity case."
"Did you see their faces?" I asked. "Connie especially -- she looked positively stunned."
"Is somebody going to tell me what I just missed?" Skinner demanded. I told him the whole story, starting with my hopes for a marriage to Robert and concluding with Tom's antics on the street, and then he too laughed. "Oh, I wish I'd seen that!"
"I consider myself very well revenged, Tom. Thank you." I wiped my eyes on a handkerchief; I'd laughed so hard I was actually crying. "Have a good Christmas, indeed!"
"I'm a little miffed, though, you two," said Skinner. "Why wasn't I invited to the wedding?"
"Rodney, if there ever is a wedding, I promise you'll be there," I said dryly. "But I wouldn't get my white gloves ready just yet."
"Ah, so no secret engagements going on here?"
"No, Skinner," said Tom.
I'm sure I'm imagining things, but Skinner almost seemed relieved at this. Did he really think I'd keep such a secret from him?
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5 December 1899
It has been some years since I was this anxious and excited for Christmas. I feel like a child again.
I have finished embroidering names on the stockings and hung them in the library. Similarly, I am almost finished with Skinner's monogrammed handkerchiefs; there is one yet to be done.
I spent a large portion of today getting the other gifts ready. For the first time in my life, I was grateful that Father taught me to clean and polish a rifle, and I spent nearly an hour thus caring for Matilda. I packed the gun, powder and shells into a carton, which I then wrapped in paper and tied with string; I must be very, very careful not to drop or damage it.
Mina and Henry's gifts, being made of wood, also took a fair amount of polishing, as did the box for Skinner. I have removed most of the articles from Henry's secretary, though I've left two brand-new bottles of ink and a new pen. The pocket watch for Nemo I buffed until I could see my own face in it. All the gifts, save Skinner's, were wrapped and concealed in Father's steamer trunk.
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7 December 1899
Fourth Sunday before Christmas, which meant another stir of the plum pudding. I wonder what the others are wishing when they take their turns. I have made the same wish both times, and I feel silly for doing so, but in truth I have little left to want. The only way my life could possibly be any better than it is right now would be if I found true love; I do envy Mina.
If it does not happen, however, I still have no cause for complaint.
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13 December 1899
Today was Skinner's birthday. I think he believed I'd forgotten the conversation in which he let that piece of information slip, but I had not, and we observed it with a cake after dinner not unlike the one they gave me. I know he knew I was responsible -- no one else was aware of it -- but if he is angry with me, he has concealed it well. Indeed, he seems more amused than anything.
"First birthday cake I've had in ten years," he commented. I was seated opposite him at the table, and while the others were eating their cake and chatting, he caught my eye and lifted his glass to me. I think I am safe in assuming he isn't angry.
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16 December 1899
Why is Christmas not here yet?
The plum puddings are coming along beautifully. Skinner's handkerchiefs are finished, and his present wrapped and stored like the others. We have gone out a few evenings, just before sunset, to view the lovely decorations that the shopkeepers of London have displayed in their store windows, and to see all the homes with candles burning. Sometimes we pass groups of carollers performing on street corners, collecting for charity, and we stop to listen and make a contribution. I rather enjoy giving my money away -- "scattering largesse," as Skinner calls it.
With the Christmas preparations all but finished, and the weather not often cooperative for sightseeing, there has been little to do. More often than not, we find ourselves congregated in the library (with the occasional exceptions of Henry and Mina, who are enjoying 'private time' as any engaged couple would). Nemo has a splendid chess set made of carved ebony and ivory, ornamented in gold, which has been put to good use. To help pass time in the evenings after dinner, I have located a copy of Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, and we take turns reading the story aloud. It is a longer book than I remembered, so it should help carry us right up until Christmas Eve.
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21 December 1899
More of the same, all week. After church today, Henry engaged the services of a minister who has agreed to perform the wedding aboard the Nautilus. I think the poor man must be a little confused, but he is apparently being a good sport about the odd arrangements.
Today is the last Sunday before Christmas, which meant the final stirring of the plum puddings. After everyone finished stirring and made their wishes, I put the symbolic trinkets into each of the five and explained their meanings to Jaya, so he could tell the other men to be careful of their teeth when biting into the dessert. There are three items which went into each pudding -- a silver coin, a ring, and a button. Whoever finds the coin will become wealthy, the one who finds the button is destined to remain a bachelor, and the one who finds the ring will be married within the coming year. In all my years, I have never yet found anything embedded in my portion of the pudding, so I could not say whether there's any truth to the superstition.
On Christmas day, the bags containing the puddings will be taken down. The puddings will be doused in brandy and then set on fire, and served with a garnish of holly. It is the last course of the Christmas meal; we will also enjoy a succulent goose, soup, fruit, nuts, and mince pies. A light breakfast will be served at the usual hour of the morning, and there will be a Christmas tea at five in the afternoon; otherwise, we will have nothing but the dinner, starting at two. The pudding will be served at nine; after we have eaten it, the festivities will be over.
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23 December 1899
Mina and I are hiding, in a manner of speaking, in the library. Upstairs in the stateroom, our gentlemen friends are hosting a "bachelor party" for Henry, with drink and song. Noisy brutes.
I took the opportunity of our solitude to present her with a small keepsake -- a tiny gold horseshoe, to sew into the hem of her wedding dress for luck. She in turn gave me a bridesmaid gift of an elegant silver hand mirror. If she is at all nervous about tomorrow, she hides it admirably. The ceremony will take place at three in the afternoon; the minister will join us afterward for a celebratory toast and dinner. The meal should once again be magnificent, though hopefully not too much so -- there is the Christmas feast to think of, after all! Once the minister has left, we will exchange Christmas gifts, and then Henry and Mina will depart to spend their wedding night at an unknown location in London. In keeping with tradition, only Nemo -- the best man -- knows where they will be, and he cannot tell anyone.
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24 December 1899
Christmas Eve, at last! And what a marvellous day it has been.
Mina took breakfast in her quarters, for she and Henry of course could not see each other before the ceremony. Everyone knows that's bad luck. There was an early tea instead of luncheon, and she took that alone as well, but I finished early to go and join her. Henry -- who looked endearingly nervous -- handed me a tiny jeweller's box and asked me to deliver it to his bride.
The box turned out to contain a pair of beautiful diamond earrings, which Mina decided to wear as her "something new." For "something old," she had a pair of gloves which her first husband once gave her, and as we are fortunate enough to wear the same size, I lent her a pair of black boots with braided laces for "something borrowed." "Something blue" was the dress, so all that remained was a lucky sixpence in her shoe -- and I made certain there was one in the boot before I gave them to her.
I helped Mina to dress, then went to my quarters to put on my bridesmaid attire and pin up my curls. I put on a tiny pendant of my mother's and my best white gloves, and I was ready for the ceremony. Our bouquets, which consisted of cream roses intermingled with holly sprigs, had been delivered in the morning.
The happy hour at last arrived, and we made our way to the stateroom, where the gentlemen were waiting. I preceded her into the room, which gave me the chance to observe Henry when she appeared. A wonderful smile lit up his face and stayed there for the rest of the day. I stepped back to allow Mina to take her place at his side, and after she handed me her gloves and bouquet, the ceremony began.
As I was not the bride, I did not pay strictest attention to everything the minister said, though of course I bowed my head in prayer at the appropriate moments, and listened when Henry and Mina recited their vows to each other. In between, however, I allowed my gaze to wander around the room a bit. Jaya and a number of the other crew members were assembled against the walls, looking like a small army. Nemo, in his most pristine blue garments, appeared calm and pleased. Tom, for whom I'd had such concern, was actually smiling. Beside him sat Skinner, who, when my gaze passed over him, gave me a little grin. The three cakes -- the bride's cake, the groom's cake, and the actual wedding cake -- were displayed on a table to one side, surrounded by our gifts to the bride and groom; Christmas gifts were heaped under the tree in one corner. All the candles were lit, and as on other occasions, I wished I could preserve the image forever.
This was a wish that would actually be granted. The ceremony finally ended with the bridal kiss, after which we all applauded, and I found I had tears in my eyes. The Jekylls (how funny to call them that!) both looked rather rapturous. I returned Mina's gloves and bouquet, and the minister stepped forward to stand between bride and groom. One of Nemo's men came forward with a great flash camera, to take a wedding portrait. I moved closer to Mina, and Nemo moved closer to Henry; at Henry's beckoning Tom went to stand at Nemo's side, and Skinner came to stand at mine. Thus we were captured.
After the portrait was taken, the men shook Henry's hand and saluted Mina on her cheek, wishing him congratulations and her happiness. I moved to congratulate him likewise; he was positively beaming.
"Elizabeth," called Mina. I turned, and she tossed her bouquet very lightly into the air in my direction. Of course I caught it easily -- there were, after all, no other girls to compete with me for it -- and I studied it in bemusement. "What am I to do with this?" I asked her, teasingly.
"Use your imagination." She actually winked.
The wedding supper was, of course, rather lavish; there was lobster, tea sandwiches, and all manner of rich foods. The wedding cake was cut, and the minister sent off with a few slices for himself and his wife.
Well fed, we all gathered around the Christmas tree to exchange our gifts before the newlyweds departed. Skinner was elected to play St. Nicholas and hand the gifts around to the recipients.
"I should explain something to all of you," I said, before anyone had so much as torn a corner off of a present. "My gifts to each of you were my father's. You know that I have been going through his possessions, and as he considered you all friends as much as I do, I thought it was only right to give you each a remembrance of him. So you can see that all of my presents are tagged 'from Elizabeth and Allan,' and I'd like you to think of them as gifts from him as well as from me."
"That's...that's real nice of you, Elizabeth," said Tom. His words were slightly husky, and I looked at him.
"Tom, I know my father thought of you rather like another son," I said. "In a way, that almost makes you my brother -- at least, that's how I think of you." He grinned. "So I thought he would especially want you to have your gift."
The look on Tom's face when he opened the package containing Matilda was something I don't think I will ever forget. He seemed at once like he wanted to cry, to laugh, and to hug me. He did none of these things, however, but thanked me with a voice full of feeling.
The others received their gifts from me with only slightly less emotion in their faces. Nemo professed himself very happy with the watch, and swore to carry it always in memory of his friend. Mina seemed pleased with the little chest, and Henry declared the portable secretary to be something he would find immeasurably useful. Skinner, standing to my left, said nothing, but I felt a warm hand press my shoulder.
The rest of the gift-giving was far less heart-wrenching. I failed to register what some of the presents were, but I did see that Henry gave Skinner a bottle of very old, fine Scotch, and Mina received a jewelled butterfly brooch from one of the gentlemen.
I was a little puzzled by my pile of gifts, for with one exception, they were all roughly the same size. I opened the first, which was from Henry; it was a new diary, elegant black leather edged in gold, and I thanked him, noting as I did that Mina, Tom, and Nemo looked a little concerned. I quickly found out why -- each of them had bought me a new diary as well! Tom's was bound in a rough brown leather; Mina's was green, with my monogram stamped on the front in white; and Nemo's was a deep sea-blue, with pages that reminded me more of a ship's log than a lady's journal. By the time I unwrapped the fourth diary, I was laughing fit to burst. "I see I'm in no danger of running out of diary pages," I said.
"Well, you're always writing," Tom said sheepishly. "We call you the historian behind your back, you know."
"The historian? Really?" I was amused. "I like that. These are wonderful gifts, everyone -- I'm delighted to have them. And they will be used, you may be sure!"
I picked up my fifth package, which was much smaller than the others. "Skinner, what is this? The world's smallest diary?"
He chuckled. "Not quite, Bess."
Not quite, indeed. The little package turned out to contain a gold locket, oval, with delicate filigree engraving. There was no chain, and when I tested the latch, it proved empty, but I was nevertheless startled to receive such a personal gift. I stared at it, then glanced up at him.
"It was my mum's," he said, quietly. "Only thing of hers I got -- well, I told you about that. I can't exactly wear it around town, but I thought you might like it." He was leaning companionably against the back of my chair, looking nonchalant.
"It's lovely," I said. "Well, all right, as you can't use it. Thank you, Rodney." He grinned at me, and I knew we were both thinking of when I gave him Father's shaving kit.
Not long after this, Henry and Mina left for their wedding night. The crew members lined the hall leading to the exit, and as they made their "merry dash" to the waiting automobile, the men pelted them with handfuls of rice. We cheered and shouted and waved after them as they drove away, then retired to our own rooms to rest. Tomorrow is Christmas day, and we have much to celebrate.
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25 December 1899
Merry Christmas! What a long and delightful day this has been!
Breakfast was quite the usual affair, apart from the holiday greetings exchanged over the table. Mina and Henry returned to us in the late morning, looking the very picture of newly wedded bliss; Mina laughed as he scooped her up to carry her across the threshold. Our stockings were retrieved from the library, and we spent a bit of time amusing ourselves with their contents.
At half past twelve we all reported, dressed in our holiday finery, to the stateroom. I put my hair up and twisted a sprig of holly around the crown; as well as the green dress Mina had helped me to select, I wore Skinner's mother's locket on a black ribbon around my throat. I think he was pleased that I did, though of course he said nothing.
We began our celebrations by singing carols and drinking wassail, which was piping hot and simply delicious. Then we played a few games of Yes and No, in which one person thinks of something and the others have to ask yes-or-no questions until someone guesses what it is. The magnificent dinner was served at two, and we ate our way through the goose, the chestnut dressing, the pies, and the other savoury dishes presented.
After we had given ourselves the chance to digest a bit, and felt comfortable again, Nemo wound up his Victrola and began to play music for us. It's difficult to do a Virginia reel with only four people, but we managed; Henry and Mina and Tom and I whirled about, and I could see that Tom is very good at that particular dance. Next came a waltz, for which we traded partners, and Tom and Mina actually landed under the kissing bough when the music stopped. He turned a bit red, but kissed her cheek with good humour. Nemo played a quadrille then and took me for a partner, Mina with Skinner. Then he found a lively piece to which one can only dance a polka.
"Come on, Bessie, do us a turn," said Skinner. He caught me about the waist and we virtually galloped about the room; I could not stop laughing as we went. He swung me about so energetically that I was actually airborne more than once. The music stopped and we caught our breath.
Nemo played another waltz, for which he claimed the bride and I danced with Henry; we were all left helpless with laughter at the sight of Skinner and Tom waltzing together, looking very pompous. "We need more girls on this ship," I heard Tom complain.
The dancing went on for quite a while yet, and after a while I wanted to echo Tom's sentiment. I do enjoy dancing very much, but with so many gentlemen in need of partners, and so few ladies present, I had no opportunity to sit any of the music out. The last piece was another lively polka, for which I again partnered Skinner, and this time it was I who found myself under the bough when the music stopped.
"You're caught, Elizabeth," Tom crowed. Why this amused him so much, I really don't know. I accepted Rodney's kiss on my cheek without comment, though I spent the better part of the tea that followed feeling excessively warm. I blame the dancing.
After tea we had a round of storytelling. Ghost stories are always told at Christmas, so we each took turns sharing the scariest stories we know. Tom told us one which actually made me shriek, it was so frightening; I can't even recall it properly now, but it was about a "headless horseman."
At last, the flaming plum pudding was served, and it was perfect! I warned the others about the charms concealed in the mix, so they would chew carefully. Curiously, no one found the button (the symbol of bachelorhood), and I wonder if it somehow failed to make its way into the pudding. Tom found the silver coin, and looked intrigued when I told him it meant he would be wealthy. We had almost finished eating when I very nearly choked; for a moment, I thought one of my teeth had broken, and I seized my napkin to remove it from my mouth. But it wasn't a tooth at all -- it was the silver ring charm.
"Dear me," said Mina, dryly. "First you catch the bouquet, now you find the ring. I think you had better start looking for a bridegroom, Elizabeth, it seems you're meant to have one soon."
I could feel my face colouring deeply at this. "If that's true, he's welcome to show himself whenever he's ready," I said, more blithely than I really felt. I cleaned the ring with my napkin and finished my pudding, not daring to look at anyone.
We finished the day with one last carol and cup of wassail, then bade each other good night and Merry Christmas. I am quite exhausted, but on the whole, it's been a really wonderful day.
by Lady Norbert
30 November 1899
It is the fifth Sunday prior to Christmas, and so it was today that the preparation of the plum pudding had to begin. With Jaya's assistance, I went yesterday and purchased all of the needed ingredients, and today the cooks started to make the actual treat. In fact, there will be no less than five puddings -- one for the League and myself, and the other four to be shared by the crew members. It is my Christmas gift to them, as thanks for how hard they work to keep us all comfortable.
I supervised the creation of the League's pudding, and Jaya watched; he then instructed the cooks in their own language how to make the others. Once all the ingredients were put together, the other members of the League were summoned. I had to explain the matter to Tom and Nemo; plum pudding is considered good luck, and they say that wishes made while stirring the pudding will come true. So each of us stirred the pudding and made a wish, and then it was placed in a bag and hung up. Every Sunday between now and Christmas, we will take it down and stir it again.
2 December 1899
It is snowing! London looks much prettier for it; the whiteness helps to alleviate some of the gloom from fog and soot. I have had to wear my warmest cape, the black wool with the ermine trim, for our ventures into town lately.
We continue to be busy in our sightseeing. There are things beyond London which I wish we could visit; I should, for instance, love to travel by rail to the northern part of the country where Stonehenge sits. But that, I think, will have to wait until another time. It may be that we can return after our trip to Tom's America; we shall have to see.
Today Mina and I went to town and ordered our bouquets for the wedding, as well as purchasing the necessary greens and other ornamentations needed to decorate the Nautilus for the festivities. We returned early and set to work at once. We are limiting the decorations primarily to the stateroom, where we take our meals, and the library, where we spend most of our leisure time. There is now a Christmas tree standing in each, trimmed in gold and silver. Wreaths adorn the doors, pine garland is draped from velvet ribbons attached to the walls, and on a whim, I purchased a differently-coloured stocking for each of the League members; I will hang these in the library after I finish embroidering the names on each. Mina found the idea terribly amusing.
The festivities of Christmas day will be held in the stateroom, where we will have what amounts to a supper ball -- dancing before and after our meal, as well as storytelling and games. It is also here that the wedding will take place on Christmas Eve; therefore, the decorative efforts were concentrated here. Skinner and Tom happened to enter just as I was perched on a ladder, hanging the final decoration from the ceiling.
"Is that what I think it is?" Skinner asked incredulously. "I haven't seen one of those in years."
"It is precisely what you think it is," I told him. "We are having a wedding here, after all -- I thought it was appropriate."
"What is it?" Tom was eyeing the unfamiliar ornament.
"We call it a kissing bough," I replied, tying the ribbon securely. It is a particularly jolly thing, I think, and it's certainly the biggest one I've ever seen. Two rings of evergreen boughs are joined together with ribbon streamers which extend to all corners of the room, and these rings are adorned with holly, fruit, candles (which we won't light until Christmas day), and a large sprig of mistletoe in the centre.
"On Christmas day," I told him, "anyone who is caught standing under the bough must accept a kiss from whoever stands nearest." Satisfied that the bough hung straight and neat, I descended the ladder, which one of Nemo's men promptly took away. "I think we're set, gentlemen. This should be a merry holiday."
"What else do we need?" asked Tom. "Anything I can do?"
I considered this. "I have stockings for everyone, which I'll hang in the library, but we do need things to go in them. Fruit is good, of course, but I don't think it'll be quite right without crackers."
"Crackers?"
I explained about crackers, the Christmas noise-makers which, when pulled apart, spill their contents all over the floor. "They're filled with toys, puzzles, treats, all manner of good things."
"And we need wassail," said Skinner. "Can't sing Christmas carols without a glass of wassail to wet the throat, can we?"
He was quite right, of course, and I'd neglected to think of it. "Tomorrow," I said, "we three will all go and buy these things."
3 December 1899
There are no words to adequately describe the experience of Christmas shopping with Tom Sawyer and Rodney Skinner.
It proceeded quite usually, at first. We purchased a large quantity of crackers, a few more trinkets to hang from the Christmas trees, and some extra candles. I also remembered to buy the symbolic objects to be concealed inside our plum pudding. The pair of them took turns vanishing into various shops to buy things; I myself went to visit London's finest silversmith, to purchase a tea tray for Mina and Henry's wedding gift. It's a very pretty thing, sterling silver and oval in shape, engraved with their names and the wedding date. I really did not know what else to give them.
Lastly, we went to buy the ingredients for the wassail, the hot punch shared with Christmas carollers. I'd had to search through the library to find the right recipe, for in truth, I have never before made it myself. I sent the gentlemen into the liquor store for sherry, ale, and cider, while I myself went to buy the needed lemons, apples, and spices.
They took longer than I did, so I milled about, examining the special holiday items in the windows of the shops. I spotted a small, handsomely crafted wooden Nativity scene in one, and went in to buy it for my own quarters. As the proprietor handed me my package, I turned to leave and found myself nose-to-nose with, of all people, Constance Stuart.
"Elizabeth!" she cried warmly.
"Hello, Constance." I wanted to return her warmth, but it was difficult. Constance was once my best friend, but the friendship cooled a great deal after she married. I was her bridal attendant, and she had the groom I wanted for myself.
In he came then -- Robert. He was not quite as handsome as I remembered, in truth, but I still felt slightly weak when I beheld him. We shook hands cordially.
"I heard your father passed on earlier this year, I'm so very sorry," said Constance. "Is it true that you've quit Solomon Manor?"
"Oh -- yes, it's true," I said. She phrased it in a way that made it sound like the move had been entirely my choice, and I decided not to correct that presumption.
"Well, where are you now? I've not seen you in so long!"
"I've gone to stay with friends of Father's," I said truthfully. "We are touring Europe together; we've just come back from Greece. Right now we're preparing for two of them to be married on Christmas Eve."
We exited the shop while we talked, and I found Tom waiting by the door. Constance gave him a discreet once-over, taking in his stature and blond hair. "Oh, Tom," I said, "I'd like you to meet Robert and Constance Stuart." Wondering if he'd remember our conversation of some months prior, I added, "I was in their wedding."
A flicker of confusion darted across his face, but was immediately followed by perfect comprehension. "How do you do," he said politely, shaking hands. "Tom Sawyer. My wife's told me all about you."
Wife?
"Your -- your wife?" Constance was visibly startled. "When did you get married?" she asked me.
"Very recently," I said, hoping I didn't look surprised. She had no idea how recently.
"We should go, dear," Tom continued, relieving me of my purchase and giving me his arm. "The carriage is waiting, and we've still got a lot to do before we go home. It was very nice to meet you both," he added, lifting his hat. "Have a good Christmas."
I managed to keep perfectly quiet until we were back in the carriage, where Skinner was waiting for us. "What kept you two?" he asked.
Tom and I looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Whatever possessed you to do that, Tom?" I asked, when I'd recovered my wits sufficiently. Skinner looked thoroughly bewildered.
"I couldn't help it," Tom said, still chuckling. "I remembered what you said, about that guy tossing you over for your friend because of the money, and I had to say something. I heard you telling them you live with your father's friends and I didn't want them thinking you'd turned into a charity case."
"Did you see their faces?" I asked. "Connie especially -- she looked positively stunned."
"Is somebody going to tell me what I just missed?" Skinner demanded. I told him the whole story, starting with my hopes for a marriage to Robert and concluding with Tom's antics on the street, and then he too laughed. "Oh, I wish I'd seen that!"
"I consider myself very well revenged, Tom. Thank you." I wiped my eyes on a handkerchief; I'd laughed so hard I was actually crying. "Have a good Christmas, indeed!"
"I'm a little miffed, though, you two," said Skinner. "Why wasn't I invited to the wedding?"
"Rodney, if there ever is a wedding, I promise you'll be there," I said dryly. "But I wouldn't get my white gloves ready just yet."
"Ah, so no secret engagements going on here?"
"No, Skinner," said Tom.
I'm sure I'm imagining things, but Skinner almost seemed relieved at this. Did he really think I'd keep such a secret from him?
5 December 1899
It has been some years since I was this anxious and excited for Christmas. I feel like a child again.
I have finished embroidering names on the stockings and hung them in the library. Similarly, I am almost finished with Skinner's monogrammed handkerchiefs; there is one yet to be done.
I spent a large portion of today getting the other gifts ready. For the first time in my life, I was grateful that Father taught me to clean and polish a rifle, and I spent nearly an hour thus caring for Matilda. I packed the gun, powder and shells into a carton, which I then wrapped in paper and tied with string; I must be very, very careful not to drop or damage it.
Mina and Henry's gifts, being made of wood, also took a fair amount of polishing, as did the box for Skinner. I have removed most of the articles from Henry's secretary, though I've left two brand-new bottles of ink and a new pen. The pocket watch for Nemo I buffed until I could see my own face in it. All the gifts, save Skinner's, were wrapped and concealed in Father's steamer trunk.
7 December 1899
Fourth Sunday before Christmas, which meant another stir of the plum pudding. I wonder what the others are wishing when they take their turns. I have made the same wish both times, and I feel silly for doing so, but in truth I have little left to want. The only way my life could possibly be any better than it is right now would be if I found true love; I do envy Mina.
If it does not happen, however, I still have no cause for complaint.
13 December 1899
Today was Skinner's birthday. I think he believed I'd forgotten the conversation in which he let that piece of information slip, but I had not, and we observed it with a cake after dinner not unlike the one they gave me. I know he knew I was responsible -- no one else was aware of it -- but if he is angry with me, he has concealed it well. Indeed, he seems more amused than anything.
"First birthday cake I've had in ten years," he commented. I was seated opposite him at the table, and while the others were eating their cake and chatting, he caught my eye and lifted his glass to me. I think I am safe in assuming he isn't angry.
16 December 1899
Why is Christmas not here yet?
The plum puddings are coming along beautifully. Skinner's handkerchiefs are finished, and his present wrapped and stored like the others. We have gone out a few evenings, just before sunset, to view the lovely decorations that the shopkeepers of London have displayed in their store windows, and to see all the homes with candles burning. Sometimes we pass groups of carollers performing on street corners, collecting for charity, and we stop to listen and make a contribution. I rather enjoy giving my money away -- "scattering largesse," as Skinner calls it.
With the Christmas preparations all but finished, and the weather not often cooperative for sightseeing, there has been little to do. More often than not, we find ourselves congregated in the library (with the occasional exceptions of Henry and Mina, who are enjoying 'private time' as any engaged couple would). Nemo has a splendid chess set made of carved ebony and ivory, ornamented in gold, which has been put to good use. To help pass time in the evenings after dinner, I have located a copy of Charles Dickens's A Christmas Carol, and we take turns reading the story aloud. It is a longer book than I remembered, so it should help carry us right up until Christmas Eve.
21 December 1899
More of the same, all week. After church today, Henry engaged the services of a minister who has agreed to perform the wedding aboard the Nautilus. I think the poor man must be a little confused, but he is apparently being a good sport about the odd arrangements.
Today is the last Sunday before Christmas, which meant the final stirring of the plum puddings. After everyone finished stirring and made their wishes, I put the symbolic trinkets into each of the five and explained their meanings to Jaya, so he could tell the other men to be careful of their teeth when biting into the dessert. There are three items which went into each pudding -- a silver coin, a ring, and a button. Whoever finds the coin will become wealthy, the one who finds the button is destined to remain a bachelor, and the one who finds the ring will be married within the coming year. In all my years, I have never yet found anything embedded in my portion of the pudding, so I could not say whether there's any truth to the superstition.
On Christmas day, the bags containing the puddings will be taken down. The puddings will be doused in brandy and then set on fire, and served with a garnish of holly. It is the last course of the Christmas meal; we will also enjoy a succulent goose, soup, fruit, nuts, and mince pies. A light breakfast will be served at the usual hour of the morning, and there will be a Christmas tea at five in the afternoon; otherwise, we will have nothing but the dinner, starting at two. The pudding will be served at nine; after we have eaten it, the festivities will be over.
23 December 1899
Mina and I are hiding, in a manner of speaking, in the library. Upstairs in the stateroom, our gentlemen friends are hosting a "bachelor party" for Henry, with drink and song. Noisy brutes.
I took the opportunity of our solitude to present her with a small keepsake -- a tiny gold horseshoe, to sew into the hem of her wedding dress for luck. She in turn gave me a bridesmaid gift of an elegant silver hand mirror. If she is at all nervous about tomorrow, she hides it admirably. The ceremony will take place at three in the afternoon; the minister will join us afterward for a celebratory toast and dinner. The meal should once again be magnificent, though hopefully not too much so -- there is the Christmas feast to think of, after all! Once the minister has left, we will exchange Christmas gifts, and then Henry and Mina will depart to spend their wedding night at an unknown location in London. In keeping with tradition, only Nemo -- the best man -- knows where they will be, and he cannot tell anyone.
24 December 1899
Christmas Eve, at last! And what a marvellous day it has been.
Mina took breakfast in her quarters, for she and Henry of course could not see each other before the ceremony. Everyone knows that's bad luck. There was an early tea instead of luncheon, and she took that alone as well, but I finished early to go and join her. Henry -- who looked endearingly nervous -- handed me a tiny jeweller's box and asked me to deliver it to his bride.
The box turned out to contain a pair of beautiful diamond earrings, which Mina decided to wear as her "something new." For "something old," she had a pair of gloves which her first husband once gave her, and as we are fortunate enough to wear the same size, I lent her a pair of black boots with braided laces for "something borrowed." "Something blue" was the dress, so all that remained was a lucky sixpence in her shoe -- and I made certain there was one in the boot before I gave them to her.
I helped Mina to dress, then went to my quarters to put on my bridesmaid attire and pin up my curls. I put on a tiny pendant of my mother's and my best white gloves, and I was ready for the ceremony. Our bouquets, which consisted of cream roses intermingled with holly sprigs, had been delivered in the morning.
The happy hour at last arrived, and we made our way to the stateroom, where the gentlemen were waiting. I preceded her into the room, which gave me the chance to observe Henry when she appeared. A wonderful smile lit up his face and stayed there for the rest of the day. I stepped back to allow Mina to take her place at his side, and after she handed me her gloves and bouquet, the ceremony began.
As I was not the bride, I did not pay strictest attention to everything the minister said, though of course I bowed my head in prayer at the appropriate moments, and listened when Henry and Mina recited their vows to each other. In between, however, I allowed my gaze to wander around the room a bit. Jaya and a number of the other crew members were assembled against the walls, looking like a small army. Nemo, in his most pristine blue garments, appeared calm and pleased. Tom, for whom I'd had such concern, was actually smiling. Beside him sat Skinner, who, when my gaze passed over him, gave me a little grin. The three cakes -- the bride's cake, the groom's cake, and the actual wedding cake -- were displayed on a table to one side, surrounded by our gifts to the bride and groom; Christmas gifts were heaped under the tree in one corner. All the candles were lit, and as on other occasions, I wished I could preserve the image forever.
This was a wish that would actually be granted. The ceremony finally ended with the bridal kiss, after which we all applauded, and I found I had tears in my eyes. The Jekylls (how funny to call them that!) both looked rather rapturous. I returned Mina's gloves and bouquet, and the minister stepped forward to stand between bride and groom. One of Nemo's men came forward with a great flash camera, to take a wedding portrait. I moved closer to Mina, and Nemo moved closer to Henry; at Henry's beckoning Tom went to stand at Nemo's side, and Skinner came to stand at mine. Thus we were captured.
After the portrait was taken, the men shook Henry's hand and saluted Mina on her cheek, wishing him congratulations and her happiness. I moved to congratulate him likewise; he was positively beaming.
"Elizabeth," called Mina. I turned, and she tossed her bouquet very lightly into the air in my direction. Of course I caught it easily -- there were, after all, no other girls to compete with me for it -- and I studied it in bemusement. "What am I to do with this?" I asked her, teasingly.
"Use your imagination." She actually winked.
The wedding supper was, of course, rather lavish; there was lobster, tea sandwiches, and all manner of rich foods. The wedding cake was cut, and the minister sent off with a few slices for himself and his wife.
Well fed, we all gathered around the Christmas tree to exchange our gifts before the newlyweds departed. Skinner was elected to play St. Nicholas and hand the gifts around to the recipients.
"I should explain something to all of you," I said, before anyone had so much as torn a corner off of a present. "My gifts to each of you were my father's. You know that I have been going through his possessions, and as he considered you all friends as much as I do, I thought it was only right to give you each a remembrance of him. So you can see that all of my presents are tagged 'from Elizabeth and Allan,' and I'd like you to think of them as gifts from him as well as from me."
"That's...that's real nice of you, Elizabeth," said Tom. His words were slightly husky, and I looked at him.
"Tom, I know my father thought of you rather like another son," I said. "In a way, that almost makes you my brother -- at least, that's how I think of you." He grinned. "So I thought he would especially want you to have your gift."
The look on Tom's face when he opened the package containing Matilda was something I don't think I will ever forget. He seemed at once like he wanted to cry, to laugh, and to hug me. He did none of these things, however, but thanked me with a voice full of feeling.
The others received their gifts from me with only slightly less emotion in their faces. Nemo professed himself very happy with the watch, and swore to carry it always in memory of his friend. Mina seemed pleased with the little chest, and Henry declared the portable secretary to be something he would find immeasurably useful. Skinner, standing to my left, said nothing, but I felt a warm hand press my shoulder.
The rest of the gift-giving was far less heart-wrenching. I failed to register what some of the presents were, but I did see that Henry gave Skinner a bottle of very old, fine Scotch, and Mina received a jewelled butterfly brooch from one of the gentlemen.
I was a little puzzled by my pile of gifts, for with one exception, they were all roughly the same size. I opened the first, which was from Henry; it was a new diary, elegant black leather edged in gold, and I thanked him, noting as I did that Mina, Tom, and Nemo looked a little concerned. I quickly found out why -- each of them had bought me a new diary as well! Tom's was bound in a rough brown leather; Mina's was green, with my monogram stamped on the front in white; and Nemo's was a deep sea-blue, with pages that reminded me more of a ship's log than a lady's journal. By the time I unwrapped the fourth diary, I was laughing fit to burst. "I see I'm in no danger of running out of diary pages," I said.
"Well, you're always writing," Tom said sheepishly. "We call you the historian behind your back, you know."
"The historian? Really?" I was amused. "I like that. These are wonderful gifts, everyone -- I'm delighted to have them. And they will be used, you may be sure!"
I picked up my fifth package, which was much smaller than the others. "Skinner, what is this? The world's smallest diary?"
He chuckled. "Not quite, Bess."
Not quite, indeed. The little package turned out to contain a gold locket, oval, with delicate filigree engraving. There was no chain, and when I tested the latch, it proved empty, but I was nevertheless startled to receive such a personal gift. I stared at it, then glanced up at him.
"It was my mum's," he said, quietly. "Only thing of hers I got -- well, I told you about that. I can't exactly wear it around town, but I thought you might like it." He was leaning companionably against the back of my chair, looking nonchalant.
"It's lovely," I said. "Well, all right, as you can't use it. Thank you, Rodney." He grinned at me, and I knew we were both thinking of when I gave him Father's shaving kit.
Not long after this, Henry and Mina left for their wedding night. The crew members lined the hall leading to the exit, and as they made their "merry dash" to the waiting automobile, the men pelted them with handfuls of rice. We cheered and shouted and waved after them as they drove away, then retired to our own rooms to rest. Tomorrow is Christmas day, and we have much to celebrate.
25 December 1899
Merry Christmas! What a long and delightful day this has been!
Breakfast was quite the usual affair, apart from the holiday greetings exchanged over the table. Mina and Henry returned to us in the late morning, looking the very picture of newly wedded bliss; Mina laughed as he scooped her up to carry her across the threshold. Our stockings were retrieved from the library, and we spent a bit of time amusing ourselves with their contents.
At half past twelve we all reported, dressed in our holiday finery, to the stateroom. I put my hair up and twisted a sprig of holly around the crown; as well as the green dress Mina had helped me to select, I wore Skinner's mother's locket on a black ribbon around my throat. I think he was pleased that I did, though of course he said nothing.
We began our celebrations by singing carols and drinking wassail, which was piping hot and simply delicious. Then we played a few games of Yes and No, in which one person thinks of something and the others have to ask yes-or-no questions until someone guesses what it is. The magnificent dinner was served at two, and we ate our way through the goose, the chestnut dressing, the pies, and the other savoury dishes presented.
After we had given ourselves the chance to digest a bit, and felt comfortable again, Nemo wound up his Victrola and began to play music for us. It's difficult to do a Virginia reel with only four people, but we managed; Henry and Mina and Tom and I whirled about, and I could see that Tom is very good at that particular dance. Next came a waltz, for which we traded partners, and Tom and Mina actually landed under the kissing bough when the music stopped. He turned a bit red, but kissed her cheek with good humour. Nemo played a quadrille then and took me for a partner, Mina with Skinner. Then he found a lively piece to which one can only dance a polka.
"Come on, Bessie, do us a turn," said Skinner. He caught me about the waist and we virtually galloped about the room; I could not stop laughing as we went. He swung me about so energetically that I was actually airborne more than once. The music stopped and we caught our breath.
Nemo played another waltz, for which he claimed the bride and I danced with Henry; we were all left helpless with laughter at the sight of Skinner and Tom waltzing together, looking very pompous. "We need more girls on this ship," I heard Tom complain.
The dancing went on for quite a while yet, and after a while I wanted to echo Tom's sentiment. I do enjoy dancing very much, but with so many gentlemen in need of partners, and so few ladies present, I had no opportunity to sit any of the music out. The last piece was another lively polka, for which I again partnered Skinner, and this time it was I who found myself under the bough when the music stopped.
"You're caught, Elizabeth," Tom crowed. Why this amused him so much, I really don't know. I accepted Rodney's kiss on my cheek without comment, though I spent the better part of the tea that followed feeling excessively warm. I blame the dancing.
After tea we had a round of storytelling. Ghost stories are always told at Christmas, so we each took turns sharing the scariest stories we know. Tom told us one which actually made me shriek, it was so frightening; I can't even recall it properly now, but it was about a "headless horseman."
At last, the flaming plum pudding was served, and it was perfect! I warned the others about the charms concealed in the mix, so they would chew carefully. Curiously, no one found the button (the symbol of bachelorhood), and I wonder if it somehow failed to make its way into the pudding. Tom found the silver coin, and looked intrigued when I told him it meant he would be wealthy. We had almost finished eating when I very nearly choked; for a moment, I thought one of my teeth had broken, and I seized my napkin to remove it from my mouth. But it wasn't a tooth at all -- it was the silver ring charm.
"Dear me," said Mina, dryly. "First you catch the bouquet, now you find the ring. I think you had better start looking for a bridegroom, Elizabeth, it seems you're meant to have one soon."
I could feel my face colouring deeply at this. "If that's true, he's welcome to show himself whenever he's ready," I said, more blithely than I really felt. I cleaned the ring with my napkin and finished my pudding, not daring to look at anyone.
We finished the day with one last carol and cup of wassail, then bade each other good night and Merry Christmas. I am quite exhausted, but on the whole, it's been a really wonderful day.