Special Note to Readers: Thanks to the good offices of the writer ChocolateIsMyDrug, I recently found out that this site removed ALL the asterisks I had used as line breaks in my stories. As a result, many of the scene changes in my stories have simply not been showing up. So bear with me while I go through the work of the past months and years to clean up and insert the necessary breaks. The whole project has fairly reduced me to tears, as I meant to spend this time revising and posting new material, rather than redoing most of my previous chapters, or explaining to readers what happened.
Something for Twelfth Night, and just at the last minute too. To enjoy this chapter, you don't have to know about the custom of hanging mistletoe and/or about Scottish or English country dancing, but it wouldn't hurt.
Dickens did indeed publish A Christmas Carol towards the end of 1843, though I cannot say whether it was available in Cheshire or even in Manchester, where Captain Brown was known to travel.
Any song lyrics quoted are long since in the public domain.
Chapter 14: Misbehavior Encouraged
The arrival of the little parcel on Christmas Eve had been most unexpected. It was a simple thing, all brown paper and string, but when she opened it she found the most exquisite book of sonnets, a little treasure she could hold in her hand. As she gently turned the leaves she saw glimpses of what she had known long ago, the Italian countryside and all its attendant memories.
There was something else as well. Mr. Carter had included a brief note, and that too was a simple thing, really -- just his compliments, the compliments of the season, and a wish that she find pleasure in the book. It would have touched Miss Galindo to know what trouble he'd gone to just to produce that note – the shocking amount of ink and paper he had expended in abortive attempts at expressing himself. But it mattered not; she held in her hand one of the loveliest gifts she'd ever been given, and the letter she wrote in reply satisfied him that his present had been well received.
In fact that letter remained still in his breast pocket on Twelfth Night.
"I want the new year at Hanbury to begin with joy, Mr. Carter," Lady Ludlow had told him that autumn, when it became clear that some of the troubles of the old year were subsiding and she might look to the future. And so she had become very taken with the notion of a Twelfth Night celebration – though a simple one, with an eye towards a more modest style at Hanbury.
To Lady Ludlow's astonishment, Mr. Carter had embraced the plan, assured her that it would be possible, as long as they practiced some economies.
"Just a simple, pleasant, merry celebration, Mr. Carter – games for the children, games for everyone else, perhaps. And light refreshments such as little cakes, hothouse grapes, other Hanbury fruits."
"And might I suggest country dances, too, my lady – jigs, reels, and so forth. We can engage some local musicians at modest expense, I am sure."
"If you like, Mr. Carter." She was quite astonished to hear him suggest dancing at all but was not about to discourage it.
In the end, the arrangements bore very little resemblance to those for the summertime fetes for which Lady Ludlow was well-known. In fact, by the night of the event itself, Mr. Carter had gotten himself into something of a fever of worry that propriety might be thrown away this time due to the more informal nature of the entertainment.
Miss Galindo, who had unobtrusively assisted Mr. Carter and her ladyship in this plan, resolutely refused to indulge his little anxieties. "Mr. Carter, surely you are not going to go about looking for concealed bottles of strong drink, or the odd housemaid lingering beneath the mistletoe with her follower. I am sure it will be a pleasant, merry evening, and pass without troubling incidents. Besides, this is Twelfth Night, after all, not Ash Wednesday, and there is no harm in high spirits."
Miss Galindo had done some fretting of her own that evening, however. On greeting Lady Ludlow before the arrival of guests, she had asked her ladyship's opinion on the gown she had selected.
Lady Ludlow had smiled to herself, a little sadly. It was not like Laurentia to display self-doubt, but perhaps the recent gossip had done its work. Still, it was best to make a brisk response, and not indulge her worries.
"Laurentia, I am sure you are aware that in your mother's day and mine, such attire would not have attracted the slightest controversy."
As for Mr. Carter, who was privy to none of this, even he could see that Miss Galindo had made a special effort this evening. His Miss Galindo always wore high collars and gowns of sober grey, brown, or purple, and dressed her hair in the simplest manner. This evening, though, she was clad in a blue-green gown that discreetly revealed her throat and even some of her shoulders. She wore no jewelry to speak of but for her earrings, and had arranged decorative combs in her smooth brown hair.
When Lady Ludlow sent the both of them out to greet the guests, Mr. Carter took the opportunity to murmur to Miss Galindo, "Is that the fashion now? I mean it's very becoming."
Miss Galindo might well have indulged a wicked impulse to ask what he meant by "that," or to reveal that her dress wasn't the fashion, in this or any recent year, and was merely a gown she and Jessie Gordon had spent a few afternoons remaking. Instead she simply smiled up at him and replied, "It is very kind of you to say so, Mr. Carter."
"I am not being kind, Miss Galindo. You look very well." And he was rewarded when she blushed a little bit in response to his smile, and the way his gaze wandered up and down her form.
Peter Jenkyns came in, leading his sister Matilda and her companion, Mary Smith. Accompanying them was Jack Marshland, who had come from Manchester for the great occasion. "Ladies, there's mistletoe about, so mind where you stand. I'll not take responsibility for your fate if you fail to heed my advice," he announced, to the squeals of several of the women.
Miss Smith turned to Mr. Carter. "I understand we shall have music tonight."
"Yes, most assuredly, Miss Smith, and we shall have dancing as well," he said in reply.
"Will you now?" said Dr. Marshland. "Last Christmas it was songs and games in Cranford, and tonight at Hanbury it's music and games and dancing as well."
"I know you sing, Dr. Marshland, but do you dance?" asked Miss Matty.
"I know a jig from a reel."
"Well, I shall leave the reels and jigs to Mary this evening, and supervise the children in their games, much as I did at the garden party," said Miss Matty. "No dancing for me, I fear."
"Nor for me, Miss Matty," said Miss Galindo, with a kind smile.
"Now, now, what's this, ladies? To announce you will not dance on Twelfth Night?" said Peter Jenkyns.
"I believe they mean to shun us, every last one," said Dr. Marshland. "But we are not so easily discouraged, are we, Mr. Jenkyns?"
"By no means."
As Mr. Jenkyns and his party proceeded on to the salon, Mr. Carter turned to Miss Galindo and said, "I believe Mr. Jenkyns is right. You ought to dance. I should like to see you dancing."
She looked at him in astonishment. "Should you, Mr. Carter?"
"Oh, yes."
She smiled, a bit sadly. "Perhaps that is a wish that must go unfulfilled, Mr. Carter. My dancing days are past, or very likely so."
Guests from Cranford continued to appear in the main hallway. The Honorable Mrs. Jamieson was nowhere to be seen, at least not thus far, but Miss Pole arrived in the company of her friend Mrs. Forrester, and then Jessie Gordon walked in with the captain and greeted both Miss Galindo and Mr. Carter very warmly.
Her father proved even more effusive. "Miss Galindo! Don't you look delightful tonight!" cried Captain Brown, taking in her appearance and once more drawing a blush from the lady.
Turning to Mr. Carter, he shook his hand heartily. "It's good to see you, Carter."
"And you, Captain Brown. The major is not accompanying you this evening?"
"Business concerning his property in Scotland forced him to travel north after New Year's Day." The captain lowered his voice and added, "And being such a very new husband, he was rather anxious about the prospect of Jessie making a wintertime journey in her condition, for all that she is feeling uncommonly well now that she is past – oh, but I must not say any more." He chuckled. "Carter, it is good that I was never a spy, for I do not know when to stop talking."
Mr. Carter was unable to suppress a smile. "Do not worry, Captain. I shall keep your counsel."
Captain Brown continued, "In any event, Jessie and I did not wish to remain at home this fine evening. And I must say it does look very well here, Carter. Most festive. Speaking of which, what do you suppose I have just purchased? Why, A Christmas Carol, by Mr. Dickens. It's his new work, you see – quite a short one, but very good, a ghost story –"
"A ghost story?" Mr. Carter asked. Perhaps he should obtain a copy himself. Harry might find tales of ghosts very interesting, and it would make a change from the history they'd been reading.
"Well, yes, but it's more than that. It's harrowing in parts, but also most amusing, and of course it has a moral. You'd like that, Carter, I know." Turning to Miss Galindo, he added, "And you would enjoy it as well, though I'll wager you'd check the locks on your doors most carefully, Miss Galindo, after reading the scene where – oh, I shall not tell you; you must read it for yourself."
"I will remember that, Captain Brown," said Miss Galindo, adding, with a smile, "Of late I have been reading a good deal of verse, but perhaps I shall eventually find time for prose."
Miss Galindo thought to direct Jessie to the small parlor where a pianoforte stood, that she might play and perhaps rest a little before the evening's dancing began. Meanwhile Mr. Carter and Captain Brown were left to greet Dr. and Mrs. Harrison, who strode in with Reverend Hutton and his younger daughters -- both the men in black, of course, but Helen, Lizzie, and their elder sister in bright dresses, looking very much like winter blooms.
Sophy Harrison curtsied to Mr. Carter. "What a delightful plan, Mr. Carter, to have a Twelfth Night celebration! Everything looks wonderful."
"That's very kind of you to say, Mrs. Harrison. And the musicians will be tuning up shortly, and the dancing will begin. I do hope you and your husband will join in."
"Oh, I shall quite insist upon it," she said, exchanging a look with Frank.
"And I shall stand ready to treat any sprained ankles!" he teased, as his young sisters-in-law giggled. "But I expect no such mishaps to occur, and the evening will pass enjoyably. If you will excuse us, please." And with a nod to Carter and Brown, he led his wife on to the salon.
"Now there's a happy man," rumbled Captain Brown to Mr. Carter as they watched the Harrisons depart with Sophy's father and sisters. "Positively beaming he is, and that wife of his sparkles like a star."
"As you say, they do seem very happy."
Now was the time. "Carter, did you ever think to marry again?"
"Marry again? No – well, not – no," he said finally.
Brown gave him a sidelong look. "Why ever not?"
"Must you really ask that? You can hardly imagine a man in my situation marrying."
"Your situation?" said Captain Brown, "You have standing in the community, and manners and education besides. Very admirable traits, if you ask me."
Carter snorted.
"But of course my opinion does not matter; you have only to concern yourself with the lady in question," said Captain Brown, lowering his voice insinuatingly.
"Captain Brown, there is no 'lady in question,'" said Mr. Carter tersely.
"I confess I am sorry to hear that, sir," said Brown, with a doleful look at his friend.
"And what about you, Brown? Did you not think to marry again?"
There was an edge to Carter's voice the captain did not quite understand, but he gamely replied, "Are you mad? A rough old soldier on half pay, and sixty to the bargain? No, of course not."
"And yet Dr. Morgan is your age, or thereabouts, and has married again, and seems a happier man for it. Do you not think to follow his example?"
"Touché, Mr. Carter, touché! That's the spirit. Take Dr. Morgan for your model."
"I had rather not, Captain. I would not relish torturing people with potions and purges."
Brown chuckled. Carter had a sense of humor after all; perhaps his was not such a hopeless case. "Well, then, perhaps not your model in every sense. But Morgan gets some things right, even if he takes his time about it. Imagine where he'd be if the scales had not fallen from his eyes and he'd not noticed the lady right before him. Why, he'd still be padding about in his old wig and coat, and scolding Frank Harrison at every turn. Not an appealing prospect, that. No, Morgan – and, for that matter, Harrison – made a wise decision. Just think on that, my friend."
"Do you know this one, Miss Galindo?" Jessie played a few notes of a carol.
"Why, indeed I do, Mrs. Gordon."
"Will you sing as I play?" asked Jessie. "I have not the voice for this tune, you know, and I think you will sound very well."
"Oh, surely not –"
"Nevertheless, I would enjoy it if you would consent to sing."
"Very well." Jessie touched the keys of the pianoforte, and Miss Galindo began her song.
"Tomorrow shall be my dancing day.
I would my true love would so chance
To see the legend of my play
To call my true love to my dance.
Sing oh, my love,
Oh, my love, my love, my love,
This have I done for my true love."
Charles Maulver stepped into the room and, smiling, listened as they continued the carol, and offered his applause when they had done.
"I thought I recognized your voice, Laurentia," he said, taking her hand.
"Good evening, Charles. Mrs. Gordon, I would like to present to you Sir Charles Maulver."
"Why, Laurentia, I have known Mrs. Gordon, and her family, for many a year." Jessie blushed scarlet at that, and was no less embarrassed when Sir Charles continued. "Do you not know what heroic service her good father performed on my behalf when we were both soldiering?"
Miss Galindo blushed in her turn. "Indeed he has never spoken of it."
"That's entirely understandable. The captain is far too modest to make mention of his own courage.
"But let us leave war behind, and speak of gentler subjects. Now why are you ladies hiding away in here? There is to be dancing in the salon, you know."
Jessie blushed again, very deeply, and Miss Galindo observed, "I have had the pleasure of hearing Mrs. Gordon play before, you see, and I thought she would enjoy trying this fine instrument."
"And it sounded very well indeed," he said, with a smile and a nod at Jessie. "Still, this is Twelfth Night, and all sorts of things are bound to occur. Do come out and join the others."
"Oh, we will not remain here the entire evening, I assure you," said Miss Galindo with a smile.
"No, indeed," said Mrs. Gordon. "I believe I will see what has become of my father. It was a pleasure to see you, Sir Charles." And Jessie excused herself and slipped out of the room.
"Well, Laurentia, you were not always so shy and sedate. I remember you played snap-dragon at Christmas when you were but a girl."
"And I got burned for my efforts, as I recall."
"Indeed you did! It was the only time I ever saw your father angry with you."
"I can believe that," she said softly. "But I have done with games now, Charles. Shall we go and join the others?"
"Of course."
The musicians had tuned up to begin the first of their sets, and the floor was fairly filled with the denizens of Cranford and Hanbury, eager to enjoy the first dance any of them had attended in a great while.
Mr. Carter had been standing sentinel to watch the proceedings but eventually took a seat within view of the dancing, and Miss Galindo quietly joined him there. It grieved her to think that the entire exercise must remind him of any limitations he faced due to his accident, and yet she knew he had planned this evening himself. Perhaps he had made peace with his lot, with whatever altered fate he must confront. At least she hoped that was so.
While the two of them were thus sitting together, Mary Smith appeared, carrying a plate of fruit and cakes, and settled herself on the other side of Mr. Carter. "I'm afraid Dr. Marshland was a little too enthusiastic at the refreshment table," she said, sotto voce. "Will you partake of a few of these, Mr. Carter?"
Jack Marshland had not taken the seat next to Miss Smith but instead turned to Miss Galindo and said, with surprising gallantry, "Would you allow me the pleasure of dancing with you?"
Miss Galindo had foreseen nothing of this but was too startled to refuse, and could only accept his arm as he whisked her away. Mr. Carter saw from her eyes that she was astonished – perhaps pleasantly so, but astonished nonetheless.
The music was especially lively, he thought, and he tried to recall the tune they were playing. It was something he had often heard as a young man, though its name escaped him. "I have not danced to this since I was a bachelor," he said aloud, before he could stop himself.
Miss Smith looked back at him sympathetically. "I am sorry, Mr. Carter. I do not know what reply to make to that."
The young woman's candor was refreshing. "You need make no reply, Miss Smith. I think we both know my dancing days are over, and that it would be wrong to grieve, when I might have spent this Christmas in the churchyard, rather than in present company!" She smiled at him, and he returned the smile and added, "But you, Miss Smith, are not dancing, and you ought to be."
"I could lay the blame on simple mathematics, Mr. Carter. There are more ladies than gentlemen present, and hence fewer partners available! But truth to tell, I need not dance every dance to enjoy a party."
"That, Miss Smith, is a good observation, when we might as well enjoy the pleasures of music, of conversation. Captain Brown, for instance, has been telling me of this new ghost story Mr. Dickens has written."
"A ghost story? That is most intriguing, Mr. Carter. I own I should like very much to read that, though perhaps not aloud to Miss Matty, or even in her presence." With a smile she said, "Such a tale might give rise to too many unsettling images, especially for a lady with a vivid imagination."
Mr. Carter chuckled. "It would, perhaps, be a bit much for a winter evening's entertainment for such a gentle soul as Miss Matty. I dare say she, like Mrs. Gordon and Miss Galindo, prefers the more refined pleasures of verse."
"I believe she does, Mr. Carter. I believe she does."
Jack looked back to where Mary was sitting with Mr. Carter. That was no polite, perfunctory discussion. The two of them were genuinely engaged in conversation, and Mary was giving him her warm smile. Imagine that.
When he and Mary and decided on their plan, he'd thought he'd had the better part of the bargain – partnering the lovely Miss Galindo through two dances, and leaving Mary to engage Carter, so that he not feel slighted.
But there was Mary, smiling, laughing, conversing animatedly with Carter, as though there were no place else she would rather be. What was this?
By now Jack was too distracted to follow the dance carefully and instead of gliding easily around Mrs. Johnson nearly knocked her down, drawing an especially bitter and decidedly less than festive look from that lady.
As for Miss Galindo, she moved faultlessly around the floor, promenading with Mr. Johnson at one moment, smiling at Frank Harrison another, casting off and always returning to just the place she ought to be, as though she had done this every evening of her life.
When Dr. Marshland had completed his two dances with Miss Galindo, Charles Maulver unexpectedly approached and engaged her for two more, and of course she could not refuse her old friend. After that Peter Jenkyns graciously asked if she might not partner him -- a most unusual turn of events. By the time she returned to where Mr. Carter was sitting, she was glowing from the exercise and the attention.
It touched him to think she would keep him company during this evening, when she might have circulated throughout the room. Whatever had happened during the autumn, with all the talk in Cranford, she clearly remained more at home in such an assembly than he did. He'd heard her singing with Jessie before, and seen with what ease she had glided about the floor during the dancing.
At the thought of Miss Galindo's dancing, he chuckled with satisfaction. It had to have been an education for Peter Jenkyns, newly returned from India, and even to Jack Marshland, who had seemed positively bewildered by the steps.
And as for any thoughts of what might have been, had he not made that trip to the railway site in May, he very carefully banished them from his mind.
Afterwards, no one ever could quite remember who started it, or even what the tune had been, but later that evening the fiddler had struck up one last song, even after the dancers had cleared the floor, and the other musicians had joined in one by one – the drummer, the flutist – until all were playing. Then one of the men present had impulsively seized his partner once more by the hand, and then another couple joined hands with them, and then another, until a line of people, hand in hand, was dancing and singing its way through the room and out into the hallway.
As they proceeded, even more people joined in – the Goddards, the Johnsons, even Augusta Tompkinson, even Reverend Hutton and his girls – clasping hands, singing and dancing their way along.
Peter Jenkyns took his sister Matty by one hand and a shrieking Miss Pole by the other, and off they went, along with all the others, through the halls, out the steps of the estate, and onto the grounds.
Miss Galindo was watching these developments when she spied Mr. Carter standing off to one side, looking very much like a schoolboy still at his lessons while his mates are already at play.
She sidled up to him and smiled. "The party has proved quite a success, Mr. Carter. Well done."
"This was not actually my doing," he said, nodding in the direction of the line of dancers.
"Misbehavior is to be expected, indeed encouraged, on Twelfth Night," she whispered, smiling. "And besides, everyone is enjoying the good will and fellow feeling brought on by this evening."
She looked as though she was rather enjoying it all herself – so rosy from the dancing, so festive in her holiday dress. He smiled down at her and said, with a gesture towards the line of people, "Well, shall we see where this leads?" Then he offered her his arm, and after hesitating a moment, she took it, and the two of them walked out of the salon and into the hallway, where the dancers were still snaking their way towards the main entrance.
Captain Brown had been pleased his daughter had embraced the plan to attend the party, but now Jessie was looking tired, and it wouldn't do to press her to remain out later, not in her delicate state.
From a distance the captain could see Miss Galindo had once again caught up with Mr. Carter, and had actually taken the gentleman's arm as they passed through the hallway.
That's as it should be, on this night or any other, thought Brown.
"Well, Jessie, I would say it is time we made our way home. Do you not agree?"
The dancers had exhausted themselves and begun saying their goodnights, and the musicians were gathering up their instruments and having one last drink. Matty Jenkyns and her brother and Miss Pole were nowhere to be seen, and in searching for them Mary Smith and Jack Marshland took a final stroll through the greenery-trimmed hallways.
"I'm glad you invited Miss Galindo to stand up with you. She seemed to enjoy herself, and certainly danced beautifully," observed Miss Smith.
"Did she? I'm no judge of the lightness of a step. But surely she has the loveliest brown eyes." When Miss Smith made no reply, he continued, "And you there deep in conversation with Mr. Carter. What on Earth do you find to talk about? To me he's always seemed more solemn than the rector, and three times as strict."
"That is most unfair to Mr. Carter, as I've always found him to be pleasant company. He reads avidly, takes an interest in the wider world, and, I would note, listens as much as he speaks. I'd advise you to engage him in conversation him next time you see him, for the two of you would easily find subjects of mutual interest to discuss, I am certain."
"I'll remember that, Miss Smith." Then he smiled and looked directly into her eyes. "However, I see that you have failed to take my advice."
"And what advice was that, Dr. Marshland?"
"Why, to mind where you stand." He glanced upwards, and she followed his gaze all the way to the mistletoe hanging from the archway above them.
To be continued…