The week of Christmas arrived at Hapus House. And the house has lived up to its name. It is a very happy house. All of the spectacular decorations, and displays, add to the festive atmosphere. Along with the festive atmosphere are the twins. They have brought joy to all, especially the servants who adore the babes. Lady Enid has said on more than one occasion "It has been so long since this old place has truly been happy. The babies have brought much-needed joy indeed."
The whole house evokes a spirit of kindness and giving. Everyone inside it feels the same way. The fruit baskets had been delivered to all the needy families of Wales. The "Christmas Footmen", as Mary called them, handed out each and every one of them all over the territory. It took a whole week and a half, but they did it. The footmen said it was worth it to see the tears and the smiles on people's faces. Naturally, the "Christmas Footmen" got a special bonus for their hard work.
The Christmas season is Mary's favorite time of year. "It's the spirit of giving without a thought of getting in return. It's the happiness we see in others knowing that you can do something for them." She loves that. And she has not forsaken the practice of selling soaps all year long in the market. That still happened while pregnant and birthing two babies. Dot delivered the soap money to the foundling house in Cardiff and the nuns cried. It's truly the most wonderful time of the year!
It is until it isn't, at nighttime. In the night, when the happy house is fast asleep, Her Ladyship tiptoes out of bed lost in unlighted thought. She wanders into the upstairs music room, shuts the door, sits on the floor, and cries. She made a decision to handle this on her own. In truth she hasn't really taken Mrs. Nevitt's advice, thinking the melancholia would go away on its own. But the thing is it hasn't gone away. It still lingers and lurks around like some shadow waiting to overtake her.
It's SO frustrating. Especially when Charles wants to resume their nighttime activities and she doesn't, not yet. So here she is, sitting on the floor again, crying... alone.
An oil lamp turned on, brightening the space. She is not so alone. Her head poked up from between her knees, and the crown of hair that has been cocooning her face, shoulders still shaking. The outline of her husband's face shone through. He lit another oil lamp and came over to sit beside her on the floor. Not saying anything, he just sat and waited for her to talk.
With a strangled voice, she asked "How did you find me?"
"I followed you. Three nights ago I heard you get up. I knew you had been doing so with the twins, so I thought I'd help. Except you didn't go to the twins. You came here. The door wasn't closed all the way, so I peeked inside. I saw you sit on the floor and cry. A lot. It broke my heart. I hoped you would tell me what was wrong, but you didn't. Then each night at about the same time you would get up and come here and cry. Finally, I decided to wait for you," he explained.
She pressed her head to her knees and cried more. What a pathetic creature she is. He rubbed her back and spoke. "I can't help you if you don't tell me. Is this about intimacy? I want to understand Mary. Please don't shut me out." He really doesn't know what to do and he just wants to understand.
"I'm a bad mother and wife," she sobbed. He kept whispering the word no over and over again. "Yes, I am. What kind of mother cries at her own children when they won't stop crying? And what kind of wife refuses to be intimate with her handsome husband? Me! That's who!" Then, not being able to stand it any longer, she made a decision. The decision to tell him all of the things she's been feeling, like Mrs. Nevitt and Lady Flora encouraged her to do.
She told him about her body problems. "I just really dislike me. I look gross. When I see me, it's like I'm some stranger." She told him about not wanting to be intimate because of it. "If I got pregnant I would just die right now." She told him about all the things Mrs. Nevitt told her. "Plus she told me the names of herbs to take to miscarry and I told her no thank you. A baby is a gift and I just couldn't do that to you. It would damage our relationship. But she told me there might be things you could do. I don't know what they are." Her hands went over her eyes.
Charles couldn't help it, he laughed. "Of course, you wouldn't know what they are because you're a sweet, innocent woman. Thank God! But she's right. There are things I can do and if you, My Love, had just come to me and told me all of this I would have told you so." He kissed the side of her head.
Sniffling, she choked out "But I didn't want to tell you because... because... what if you thought I was nuttier than Lady Mable's fruitcake? Because what kind of woman acts like this? You might have me sent—"
"Away. You've thought I would send you away because you're a little mixed up right now. It always comes back to that, doesn't it? You being sent away. Bloody hell!" He said the last part with angry frustration.
She hung her head again. "See! You're mad at me." More tears came.
He pulled her closer to his side. "No. I'm angry at your father for banishing you in the first place. I'm angry at him for making you fear being alone and having to be so perfect all the time. I'm angry at him but never at you. How could I be when I love you? And even if it takes a lifetime, which I pray it doesn't, sooner or later I will get through to your head that you are not ever being sent away from me. Because you are not."
Kissing her head again, he pulled her into his lap. "So you're a little melancholy. I think everyone has felt that, even me. Did Mrs. Nevitt tell you anything to do for it?"
She nodded and shared what the lady said. "She told me to boost my protein intake, get fresh air and exercise every day, and spend time with people I love."
With a cheeky smile, he asked "And have you, dear love of my life, been doing those things?" He knows she hasn't, even before she whispered no. "Starting tomorrow, we're going to be doing those things. I'm telling Mrs. Evans to add more protein to your plate and less of those sweet things you love so much. Also, you're going to put on an old dress and go riding with me every morning."
He was interrupted by his wife. "But I hate riding. You know that."
Chuckling into her hair, he declared "You'll love it with me. Plus you'll be getting extra fresh air and sunshine. Then we'll practice archery afterward, which will partly take care of the exercise. The rest of the day you'll spend doing whatever kinds of things you do with Lady Dot and all the women of your acquaintance." She nudged him with her elbow a bit.
His heart raced as he considered his next words. He's unsure how she'll take it. "As for the twins, I think you need to leave the daytime napping routine strictly to the nanny. I know you hate that and I can feel you tensing up, but you've been doing too much. It's the nanny's job and she hasn't been doing it as she should. You've neglected yourself and now it's showing because you're starting to break down."
He saw her staring at him, so he went further. With sincerity and truth, and a touch of longing, he told her "And the thing is, I need you. I can't do any of this without you. You are the paste that holds me together, all of this together."
She had not considered that. To top it off, she felt drops of tears spill onto her. She held him and they cried together, on the floor, in the music room. With a quiet voice, she let him know "I'm sorry. Please forgive me."
With his own strangled voice, he noted "There's nothing to forgive. You haven't been well, but you will be." He sniffed her hair and smiled. "As for you feeling frumpy and not pretty, I wish you could see what I see when I look at you. Because I think you're gorgeous. And I can tell you've lost weight, and you'll continue to. But really I think you look better like this because, to be honest, as beautiful as you were, I think you were a little too thin."
She does not understand. "You like this? You like how I look now? But I was the ideal weight for court."
And there it is. The truth. He must put a stop to her thinking. "Yes. You were fine for court, but I don't want one of those women. I want you. And even though I loved what my eyes saw of you, I like you with a little more meat on your bones. It makes you look even more voluptuous and womanly. Lose more weight, but don't wear yourself out. At least not on my behalf."
That flipped a switch inside her. It's like all she needed was his honest opinion. She can still fit into all of her gowns, but she's curvier. Turning around in his arms to look him in the eye, she asked one more time "You like me like this?"
He locked his blue eyes with hers and whispered a heartfelt yes. That did it. Her lips found his and they began kissing like randy lovers. Their hands were all over the place. Somehow he managed to pick her up and carry her away to their bedroom, which he is so adept at doing. In the quietness of the bedroom, their hands swam across a sea of sheets and laced together finding comfort in the nakedness of their souls.
There were six months of pent-up energy entangled about them. Released to its full conclusion. And like everything else between them, it is nothing but pure love and a whole lot of passion. When it was over he asked in the silence of the room, "Are you ready for round two?"
She gave him one of her most beautiful smiles and told him "No. If I have to be up before the whole house to go horse riding with you then I need sleep."
To which he remarked, "If you want, you could go riding right now and it would take the place of being up early."
Rolling her eyes at him, she pinched his cheek. "You are vulgar."
He raised an eyebrow in challenge. "Oh please, says the woman who cursed like a sailor when her son was being born."
Huffing out a breath, she made known "When you push out something the size of a watermelon from your lower half and tell me you wouldn't curse like a sailor, then I'll believe you. In the meantime..." She pulled him down for a kiss.
Two days before Christmas, Mary marveled at how reconnecting with her husband on an intimate level, and having his honest opinion, did wonders for her mental health. True to his word every day he has gotten her up to go riding and shoot arrows. She has to admit with the added protein and less sugar intake, coupled with all of the things Charles and she spoke about, the melancholy is lesser.
Now she knows it's ridiculous to think she is cured. For she knows she is not, cause it's there lurking like a shadow. A whisper in the darkness, in the quiet it grows. But in order to kill it, it takes time and progress. Every day a little progress adds up to amazing results. That is her goal, her aim. She can be a mess and still be a good mother and a good wife. As Dot tells her "You're allowed to be messy."
Sitting on her husband's lap, in his study, stroking his scruffy face (which she loves) she can breathe easier. They were sitting at his desk, while he read out the Christmas greetings from Suffolk and different nobles of England. Every once and a while his hand would wander to her side, where he knows she's ticklish.
Glyn entered the office and announced Lady Catherine's carriage had been spotted. And then some, not all, of her good humor was gone. They had discussed marrying her off to Lord Wainwright, a nobleman in Scotland. Lady Flora had given her a list of names containing all of the affluent and eligible men in Scotland. The further away the better.
In fact, Charles had contacted the man and invited him to Christmas. He accepted and would be here soon, along with Anthony and William. Lady Flora is also joining them for Christmas dinner this year. As she put it "I do not care to suffer the silence of a daughter-in-law and the ill-humor of my oldest son. Better to sniff out the plot of the intolerable interloper." This is what she calls Catherine, an interloper.
They arose and smoothed their clothes. She fixed his doublet and they walked hand-in-hand down the stairs to greet their ward. All the fake smiles and awkward compliments are like eating cold pottage, gross and distasteful. Through the whole thing, Mary did not leave her husband's side, though she did notice the girl's eyes wander a bit too long on the Duke. Lady Enid showed her to her room, far on the other side of the house and farther away from Dot.
Her husband has a way of pulling her out of her moods, even well before this whole melancholia business. Taking her hand, he began leading her to a place she hasn't gone in... well... never? "Why are we going to the sunroom?" she asked.
His mouth quirked up in that mischievous way of his. "For a surprise. Now stop trying to guess what it is, cause you never will." Even still she tried.
When they arrived she expected some kind of romantic gesture. What she didn't expect was— "Mama?!" There in the flesh was her mother admiring all of the greenery in the room. Tall and regal, just as she remembers her, with her dark hair pulled back.
Putting a hand over her mouth, choking back tears, unable to speak, Mary's legs felt weak. Charles whispered in her ear "Go on." So she did. She ran to her mother and the two hugged and cried. Then they sat in a seating area that had been set with finger foods. She and her mother sat together. It's surreal! Her head looked around for Charles but couldn't find him.
Instead, she cried out "Mama! What are you doing here? I have missed you SO much and I have many things to tell you."
Her mother's hands, a little more wrinkled, took hold of her daughter's young ones and sweetly said "Oh my Mary. I have missed you too. And I am here because of your loving husband and the gracious kindness of your father. He can be a gentleman when he wants to be."
Her father! Wonders never cease. She will have to ask Charles about this later. After pouring her mother a cup of tea, she began telling her all about her life. Her mother listened to every word and saw every facial expression and read between every line.
The Dowager Queen, to be known as a Dowager Princess is beneath her, let her know "I can rest easy at night knowing you are loved by not only your husband but also by Lady Dorothy and the Dowager Countess. You have also been busy gaining the support of the people you govern with the Grand Duke. I'm happy for you."
"Are you really Mama?" Mary asked. In earnest she wants her mother to approve and to be really pleased for her. Not in words but in truth.
Taking her daughter's hands into her own, she looked at her sweet face. "I am my Maria. I realize this is not what I had planned for you, but in the big picture of life who am I to question the hand of God? The Lord gives and takes away. It's how we conduct ourselves during those times that matter. You may not have been born to be a Duchess, but you are using all of the skills you learned from being a princess. Which you still are in Spain, by the way."
The two smiled at that. Then the Dowager Queen continued her talk. "You have found a measure of happiness here. Most people can't even find that and especially after hardships. You are loved and you have learned how to love back. So while I don't care for the way it happened, let me be clear on that point, I am overjoyed for this new life turn for you."
Mary moved to embrace her mother once more. As she did so, the cooing of babies sounded in the room. Looking up, she saw Charles carrying the twins. His face smiled at his children and he was talking to them in hushed tones. The babies, upon seeing their mother, instantly began making more noise.
Moving to sit in a chair, the Duke handed the babies to their mom. She loved and kissed their faces all over, and played with their toes (which they love). Then she introduced her mother to her grandchildren. "Mama, meet your grandchildren. This is William, born first by almost thirty minutes." She waved his little hand. "And this is Owen, the more boisterous of the two." She did the same with his little hand, who then decided to stick it in his mouth. "Would you like to hold one or both?"
Her Majesty nodded her head and Mary handed her William. He stared at her with his curious, baby eyes and must have found something familiar— something comforting there. For the next thing the adults knew, he laid his head on her shoulder. This was surprising to his parents because he is the warier of the two. Unlike his brother who never met a stranger, similar to his father's personality.
Looking and smiling a full smile that brightened her face, Katherine asserted a point. "They are very attractive and handsome babes. But then one only needs to look at the mother and father. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree." And she is correct.
The rest of the afternoon, Mary kept her mother company. They caught each other up on everything, even the fight with melancholia. To which her mother told her, "I had that a lot more after the babes I delivered didn't survive. It was difficult, but I persevered. It's good that you have a knowledgeable doctor and nurse. I did not have those, most women don't. But you are not alone in your fight. Many women suffer this after birth, but most remain silent, especially in the noble circles."
This made Mary wonder why. Why is it so shameful to speak about it? It's a problem that should be addressed. She determined to speak with Doctor Pearce and Mrs. Nevitt about this. Perhaps Mrs. Nevitt could help her host some kind of "mother's meeting". Maybe the nuns would lend them support from the local parishes. Clearly, this is something she needs to give more consideration to.
The other two days leading up to Christmas saw guests arrive: Anthony, William, and Lord Wainwright. They had also been lodged on the other side of the house. On Christmas Eve, everyone attended Christmas mass in the morning and worshipped the birth of Christ together. Then it was back to the house to get ready for the Christmas Eve party.
Instead of attending herself, Lady Katherine opted to babysit her grandchildren. She did not want to cause a scene or be seen. All she wants is to spend time with her family and she can do that by stealing moments with the twins. Treasuring them up in her heart for when she has to return to The More.
Unlike the Springtide Ball, the Christmas Eve party was smaller. However, it is no less magnificent. The food was scrumptious, the wine was flowing, and the dancing divine. When it came time to give the Christmas blessing, Charles grew nervous. His palms sweated and a knot in his stomach grew. He had been preparing what to say all week long. Having never given a Christmas blessing to residents under his care before, he hoped what he had to say didn't sound simple or stupid. He's not as eloquent as his wife when it comes to addressing crowds.
Taking Mary's hand, he gently pulled her to the front of the room. All eyes turned to him. "Residents, Friends, and Family I want to start by wishing you all a Merry Christmas. As I think about all the blessings I have gained this year, I think I can count the trust and support of the Welsh people as one the biggest. Our region has prospered and seen much success. It has grown and thrived. I may be the Grand Duke of Wales, but I am just one cog in the wheel here. Were it not for all of us working together, giving, and sharing then I'm left to wonder where we would be."
He paused because a round of applause broke out. "And isn't that one of the blessings of Christmas? Giving and sharing. Christmas is truly Christmas by giving the light of love to those who need it most, especially the light of God. I am humbled by the spirit of love in our Cardiff community and each of the Welsh communities. I don't think you could find a more loving people."
More clapping arose and he took a sip of wine. "Christmas is not what we get, but who we spend it with and who we love. So to my wife, I love you more than you could know and am thankful for the gift of our two sons. You fill me with hope and courage." He beamed at her and kissed her hand. Then he raised his goblet to the crowd "And to all of you, may the giver of all good things bring to you love, joy, peace, and blessing this Christmas and in the new year."
And with that Charles Brandon survived his first Christmas blessing. He also survived that night when his wife decided to show her appreciation for her mother being there. Then he made it through Christmas Day, where the Dowager Countess met the Dowager Queen. The two of them hit it off splendidly.
As the Countess said "At our age, we must measure our enthusiasm or we might seem delirious and be shipped off to the institution. We have earned the right to be as contrary as we choose." To which Lady Katherine laughed and agreed. The two of them then departed to the quietness of the parlor to sip their drink "In peace and leave the frivolity to the young folks," announced Lady Flora on their exit.
The Duke also remained intact even though things did not go quite as planned with Lord Wainwright and Catherine Willoughby. It seems the lord was more enchanted with Lady Dot, which angered Anthony because he too is enamored with her as well. This upset his wife because "He cannot like Dot. He is supposed to like our ward." She huffed this out in his study. Then she turned and began to pace, but stopped in front of his desk. "Plus if Dot is to fancy anyone it should be your friend. This is all wrong, just all wrong." She threw her hands up.
At this rate, they will NEVER be rid of Catherine Willoughby. Maybe they could send her to the nunnery. Like lightning, she was reminded of something. So caught up in her own ideas, she forgot about Lady Flora's words. Catherine aided in the ambush. Before the girl goes anywhere, she and the Duchess need to have a talk. A serious talk.