Mrs Bennet's Christmas Read online

  MRS BENNET’S CHRISTMAS

  A PRIDE AND PREJUDICE VARIATION

  PHILIPPA J ROSEN

  Text copyright © 2019 Philippa J Rosen

  All Rights Reserved

  Mrs Bennet misses her daughters now they are all married.

  Therefore, she decides to invite them to Longbourn for Christmas.

  The only difficulty, as he husband points

  out, is the enmity between Darcy and Wickham.

  Mrs Bennet arrives at an ingenious solution. They will have two Christmases. One on Christmas Day for Lizzy, Jane, Kitty and Mary and one on Boxing Day, for Wickham and Lydia alone.

  They enjoy a festive day with four of their daughters, but when a certain uninvited Reverend arrives, Darcy and Lizzy decide to stay at a coaching inn to make room for the new arrival. At the inn they meet Wickham and Lydia. Lydia is in early labour and gives birth to a daughter at the inn. The impact on Wickham of the arrival of his new daughter is profound and surprising.

  As the new parents are advised not to leave the inn by their physician, Lizzy sends a message to her father and suggest that the family visit her at the inn instead. The Bennets and their daughters hurry to the inn the next day and enjoy another Christmas on Boxing Day with Lydia and Wickham.

  Only one person is disappointed - the Reverend Collins who hopes to deliver his new Christmas sermon.

  Find out more in this affectionate and funny continuation of the classic novel.

  Chapter 1

  Mrs Bennet sat gloomily looking out of the window one dull November morning.

  She gave a deep sigh. Mr Bennet looked over the top of his newspaper. He didn’t want to ask the question but knew from experience that he must. If he didn’t, his wife would sigh again, deeper and louder this time. He cleared his throat.

  “Is everything quite all right, my dear?

  “Oh yes, Mr Bennet. It’s just that I miss my daughters now they are all married.”

  “But I thought you wanted them all married off?

  I know I did, he thought to himself.

  “I suppose I did, Mr Bennet. But now they are gone the house feels empty.”

  “They visit from time to time. And we see our grandchildren quite often, don’t we?”

  “I know. But they rarely write and when they do the letter is very short. I sometimes feel, Mr Bennet, that your daughters don’t care about me. And my poor nerves are as bad as ever. I thought when all five had gone, that at least my nerves would improve. But they haven’t.”

  With a glance at her husband to ensure that he was watching, she put her head in her hands and wept with sorrow. Mr Bennet knew what he had to do. He got up from his seat and embraced his wife, wiped away her tears and reassured her that everything would be alright.

  “You really think so, Mr Bennet?”

  “Yes, my dear.”

  “And would you like to see them more often?”

  “Yes, my dear.”

  “And can I invite them here sometime?”

  “Yes, my dear.”

  “And can they all come to Longbourn for Christmas?”

  “Yes, my…what? Christmas?”

  It was too late. All Mrs Bennet heard was the yes. She clasped her hands with joy.

  “Oh, Mr Bennet, that would be wonderful.”

  He gave her a sickly smile. All five? With assorted husbands and children too? He knew he could not back track now. All he could do was try and make the best of it.

  “Yes. My dear,” he said.

  He grasped at a thin straw of hope.

  “When you say all, do you mean all five?”

  “Yes, of course all five.”

  “And their husbands?”

  “Of course, with their husbands. Why would their husbands not be there?”

  “Well, I was just thinking about Darcy and Wickham.”

  “Darcy and Wickham? What about them?”

  “Well, you know how it is with them. Darcy would not be in the same house as Wickham, let alone in the same room.”

  “I thought they were on friendly terms. After all, didn’t Mr Darcy help with the cost of the wedding when Wickham married Lydia?”

  “Yes, I believe he did. However, trust me, Mrs Bennet, I can assure you Mr Darcy loathes and despises Wickham.”

  “Then what are we going to do? Invite Lizzy but not Lydia? That’s unthinkable.”

  “I really don’t know, my dear, I really don’t know.”

  He sat in his chair and resumed reading his newspaper. To his shame he felt a little relieved. Because of Darcy’s hatred for Wickham, deserved as it was, it meant that his wife’s elaborate plans for Christmas might need to be cancelled, or at least reconsidered. He loved his daughters very much, but his house was much too small to accommodate twelve adults and a couple of small children.

  Mrs Bennet sat deep in thought. How could she invite Wickham without offending Darcy? She wanted to invite Wickham. For all his faults, and they were many, he was her favourite son in law. She chose not to see his moral defects however glaring they might be. She sat there for at least half an hour. It came to her and she turned gleefully to her husband.

  “Mr Bennet, I have it.”

  “Have what, my dear.”

  “I have thought of a way in which both Darcy and Lizzy as well as Wickham and Lydia can spend Christmas with us. It’s simple. We’ll have two Christmases.”

  “Two Christmases?” said Mr Bennet, bemused.

  “Yes. It’s very simple, Mr Bennet. Darcy and Lizzy may come on Christmas Day, while Wickham and Lydia may come on Boxing Day. Or vice versa. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier. Isn’t it a wonderful idea, Mr Bennet?”

  Mr Bennet said nothing. He recognised it was hopeless. Mrs Bennet had made up her mind, and once it was made up it could not be unmade.

  “I’m glad you agree with me, Mr Bennet. It means of course we will have to prepare Christmas dinner twice. Two Geese. Or is it gooses?”

  “No, it’s geese,” he said wearily.

  “Very well. Two geese. Two puddings. Two bowls of stuffing. Two portions of vegetables. Double the quantity of wine, of port, of sherry, of brandy, of ale, of gin.”

  Mr Bennet was grateful for that at least.

  “Do you think Lizzy will bring her new baby”?

  “Possibly not. He is very young and the journey is a long one.”

  For the rest of the day, Mrs Bennet busied herself preparing invitations for her daughters and their husbands, and in some cases, children.

  Kitty and her husband Godfrey received their invitation a few days later. Kitty and Godfrey had been married for only six months and lived in a small house in East Sussex. Kitty was very pleased that she had found a husband. She always looked up to her sister Lydia and saw how happy she was as the wife of George Wickham. Godfrey was a careless sort of fellow who spent much of his time in taverns in and about the town of Winchelsea, a small town near the coast.

  Kitty opened the invitation.

  “Why, Godfrey,” she said with girlish excitement, “we have been invited to spend Christmas day with my mother and father at Longbourn.”

  Godfrey yawned.

  “Christmas Day, eh?” he said. “I suppose that might be amusing. Provided I’m well watered. I trust your father has an extensive wine cellar? I think I’ll need the odd drink if I’m going to spend the entire day in the company of your mother.”

  “Oh, Godfrey,” said Kitty affectionately.

  Mary’s husband, Mr Walton was a professional pianist. He travelled the country and gave subscription concerts, selling tickets in advance for a recital in the theatre or town hall of whichever town he was visiting, from small towns like Stoke on Trent and Manchester, to g
reat cities like London and York. He supplemented his income by composing concertos, some of which he played at his concerts.

  He was practising on the piano when Mary told him about the invitation from Mr and Mrs Bennet.

  “What did you say, Mary?” he said as he pounded the keys.

  “I said my mother wants us to spend Christmas day with them.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I said…”

  Mary walked over to the piano and quickly closed the lid.

  “I said, Thomas, that we will be spending Christmas with my mother and father.”

  “Oh. That’s splendid. Will they expect me to play the piano?”

  “I imagine so. You don’t mind, do you?”

  “No not at all. I am actually quite fond of your mother and father.”

  Jane told Charles about the arrangements for Christmas Day. As expected, Charles was agreeable. Their children would accompany them, so that was a comfort.

  In the dining room that evening, Lizzy broke the news to Darcy.

  “Ugh,” was all he said as he ate his dinner.

  However, he looked up at Lizzy with a twinkling grin to show her that he was only jesting.

  “What of little Fitzwilliam?” he said. “He’s too young to come with us, surely.”

  “That’s true. We could leave him here with the nurse and go on our own.”

  It wasn’t the answer Darcy was hoping for. He tried another tack.

  “But what of Wickham? I cannot share Christmas with the man, you must know that.”

  Lizzy now looked at him with a twinkling grin.

  “No matter, my love. My mother has made it very clear that Mr Wickham will not be invited.”

  Darcy gave himself up to the idea of Christmas at Longbourn. He loved his wife very much and would do anything if it made her happy. Besides it was only one day and might afford some amusement. It would be pleasant too to see Charles again, and his nephews.

  Lydia told Wickham nothing. It could wait until just before Christmas she thought to herself.

  Meanwhile, Mr and Mrs Bennet began the preparations for Christmas Day. The house would need to be cleaned thoroughly if there were to be guests.

  “The house will need to be cleaned from top to bottom, Mr Bennet,” said the good lady.

  “I fear you’re right, my dear. We had better get started at once.”

  “Very well, Mr Bennet. If you give me five pounds, then I’ll begin to make the necessary arrangements.”

  “Five pounds, my dear?”

  “Yes, Mr Bennet. Five pounds. That’s what it will cost to hire the necessary number of cleaners.”

  Mr Bennet sighed. He reached inside his jacket for his pocket book and took out a large, crisp five pound note. He unfolded the large white piece of paper and sighed once more before folding it up and handing it to Mrs Bennet.

  “I will go into town at once,” she said. “I will be a couple of hours. And don’t worry, I will bring back your change.”

  “Shall I come with you?”

  “No, no. This is a woman’s task. I know exactly what instructions to give the ladies. You would tell them all the wrong things. I intend to ensure that our little home is spotless when our guests arrive. Spotless, Mr Bennet, spoltless.”

  “Yes, you’re probably right, my dear,” said Mr Bennet, relishing the luxury of two hours in his own company.

  Mrs Bennet left the house in her usual bustling way. Mr Bennet sat down in his study and lit a large cigar. The silence was intoxicating and something he had rarely enjoyed since getting married and becoming the father of five daughters. Enjoying his cigar to the full, another rarity as Mrs Bennet did not like the aroma, he read King Lear for two precious hours until his wife returned.

  He snapped the book shut and extinguished his cigar.

  “All is arranged, Mr Bennet. The ladies will come tomorrow and commence cleaning each room until all is spick and span. What is that pungent aroma? Have you been smoking?”

  “I smoked a cigar, my dear. But that was some time earlier and I had the windows open.”

  “Well I can still smell it.”

  Mrs Bennet did not mention the change from his five pound note.

  The following morning, the ladies arrived, six in all. Mr Bennet knew them, for they were cronies of Mrs Bennet. They trooped into the house with mops and buckets and cleaning things. They set to work at once. They seemed very busy and made a great deal of noise. Mr Bennet could not help noticing however that not much cleaning was being done. They seemed to spend a great deal of time gossiping about matters in Meryton and on at least one occasion Mr Bennet peeped into a bedroom and saw one of them fast asleep on the bed, her mop still in her hand.

  By late afternoon the ladies were finished. They picked up their cleaning things and left. Mr Bennet looked round. The rooms were a little less dusty, a little neater, but hardly spotless.

  “That was five pounds well spent,” he thought to himself.

  The other thing that needed to be arranged, he realised, was the victuals. Sufficient food and drink would need to be ordered to feed their entire family. Five daughters, five sons in law and two young children and Mrs Bennet and himself. He was well aware of Mrs Bennet’s appetite for food and planned accordingly.

  A few days later a cart brought supplies from the butcher, the baker and the greengrocer. And of course, there was another delivery from his vintner. He hoped it would be enough.

  All through Christmas Eve, Mr and Bennet’s daughters, together with their husbands, arrived at Longbourn. The first to arrive were Charles and Jane Bingley with their twin boys Alexander and Horatio. The boys were energetic three year olds and were prone to running noisily around their house. Jane and Charles had brought no servants and were exhausted by the time their coach pulled up at Longbourn. They were relieved that they would be able to share the load of the twins among aunts, uncles and grandparents for a day or so.

  Thomas and Mary Walton arrived next. Mrs Bennet was pleased to see them.

  “How are you, Mr Walton?” said Mrs Bennet. “I’m very glad to see you. I wondered if you would play the piano for us, Mr Walton?”

  “Of course, Mrs Bennet,” he said graciously, “After dinner this evening?”

  “No, I mean right now. Horatio and Alexander are becoming rather boisterous and I thought you might entertain them with a little music.”

  “It would be a pleasure, Mrs Bennet. Mary, darling, I am going to play the piano a while.”

  “Very well, Thomas, I will go the father’s study and find a book to read.”

  Thomas sat down at the pianoforte and played a selection of pieces by Mozart and Schubert. It made no difference at all and Alexander and Horatio continued to run around and around the kitchen, much to their grandmother’s consternation.

  “Mr Bennet,” she said when the children were out of earshot, “I do believe those children take after the Bennet side of the family. Or perhaps the parents of Mr Bingley. For, it is unthinkable that they follow my own side of the family.”

  Mr Bennet smiled to himself. In general, his memories of his daughters as infants were fond and happy, but also mixed with a certain relief that those days were over.

  “You think so, my dear?” he said. “Don’t you recall what Kitty and Lydia were like when they were the same age as Alexander and Horatio?”

  “Of course, I do. Because they clearly took after the Bennets.”

  Soon Kitty arrived with her husband, the flippant and careless Mr Godfrey Anderson.

  “Good day, Mrs B,” said Godfrey in his casual manner. “Would it be too much to ask if I could have a drink of some sort? Wine, port, brandy, anything really.”

  “Godfrey, isn’t it a little early?” said Kitty.

  “I really don’t know, Kitty. What time is it?”

  “It is only just gone noon.”

  “Thank heaven for that,” said Godfrey languidly, “a glass of brandy if you please.”

  Mr Benne
t gave one of his customary stoic smiles and fetched a bottle of brandy for the refreshment of his newest son in law. And for himself. With an apologetic grin he placed a decent sized glass on the piano for Mr Walton as he continued to play, with little effect on his nephews by marriage.

  Last to arrive were Darcy and Lizzy. They greeted the family with warmth and fondness. They felt their own infant son was too young to make the arduous journey and had therefore left him at Pemberley with a wet nurse and sundry servants who they knew would take excellent care of him.

  “We are all here except for Lydia and Mr Wickham,” said Kitty.

  “I really don’t think Lydia and Mr Wickham will be here,” said Mr Bennet.

  “Of course,” said Kitty. “She’s with child so it may be too tiring for her. I imagine they will have a quiet little Christmas alone.”

  “Yes, that’s the reason, I am sure,” said Mr Bennet with a glance at Lizzy.

  Few people in the family knew of the enmity between Darcy and Wickham. Darcy did not wish to speak of the man to others and Lizzy had the good grace not to spread idle gossip. Jane knew of course due to conversations with her husband. Mr Bennet had discussed the matter in confidence with Lizzy but did not say anything to Mrs Bennet. He knew of her proclivities and knew that if he said anything to her then the stories would be embellished and exaggerated and would be common knowledge in Meryton within hours.

  As a result, very few people knew of how Wickham had wronged Darcy. They knew nothing of the money given by Darcy and squandered by Wickham. They knew nothing of his attempt to seduce Darcy’s sister in Ramsgate. And they certainly knew nothing of the part which Darcy (and his pocket book) had played in ensuring Wickham’s marriage to Lydia and thereby the saving of her reputation.

  Unfortunately, some of the family, in particular Mrs Bennet and Kitty, were rather fond of Wickham and his charming, shallow manner. They had no idea he was a gambler, drinker, womaniser and a man who rarely bothered to settle his bills on time if at all. It was no surprise when Kitty married Mr Anderson. He was like a smaller, flimsier facsimile of Mr Wickham himself. Not as charming perhaps, not quite as prone to wine, women and song. But the similarities were there and made Mr Bennet concerned for his second youngest daughter.