Christmas Celebrations

The Key to Christmas

Summer Hanford

Miss Georgiana Darcy trudged through the village of Lambton, frowning. She and her companion, Mrs. Annesley, and one of Pemberley’s footmen, had been in every shop, spoken to every merchant. There was nothing, simply nothing at all, for Georgiana to buy for her brother Fitzwilliam for Christmas.

She should have made an excuse to go to London. Lambton was useless. How was Georgiana to ensure that she gave her brother a better gift than his new wife, Elizabeth, if she had no worthy gifts from which to choose?

And she must find the better gift. Ever since their wedding, all Fitzwilliam cared about was Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was so lovely. Elizabeth was so intelligent, so well read, had such a beautiful voice.

And then, there was his worst assertion of all: Elizabeth put such emotion into her playing that, albeit in a different way, she was every bit as skilled as Georgiana.

She was not. Georgiana had heard Elizabeth make numerous mistakes when she played in the evenings. Fitzwilliam did not seem to care. He would simply stare at her, all dreamy eyed, and did not even ask Georgiana to play anymore.

She huffed a sigh.

“Miss, that journal at the-” Mrs. Annesley began.

“Journal?” Georgiana snapped. “You want me to give my brother a book full of empty pages? How will that be better than whatever Elizabeth is giving him?”

Mrs. Annesley pursed her lips. “As you say, you do not know what Mrs. Darcy has selected for your brother. Furthermore, Christmas gifts are not about-”

“Oh!” Georgiana exclaimed. “What is that?” Near the end of the street a cart stood, a donkey attached and a bent little man with a tall hat in attendance.

“A tinker,” Mrs. Annesley sniffed, “Best to stay away.”

“Nonsense. He will have something different, something special.” In fact, Georgiana thought she could see something gleaming amongst the bric-à-brac that cluttered his cart.

“Miss, I do not believe we should-”

Lengthening her stride, Georgiana hurried down the street.

She reached the tinker somewhat breathless, having walked as quickly as she could so that neither Mrs. Annesley nor the footman who trailed them could catch up and attempt to halt her.

On the back of the cart, that glint of metal still sparkled.

Georgiana was certain that, whatever it was, it would be the perfect gift.

The tinker, an unkempt, dirty sort of fellow, doffed his tall, oddly pointed hat, and bowed. “Oh beautiful miss, how may I serve you?”

“I am looking for the perfect Christmas gift for my brother.” Georgiana pointed to the bit of sparkle. Somehow, even standing beside the cart, she could not make out what the object might be. “That there. That looks just the thing.”

Shoving his hat back on his head, covering ears as strangely pointed as that article, the tinker turned to follow her gaze. “Ah, that. That is very special indeed, miss.”

“I will take it,” Georgiana said eagerly, still struggling to see what it even was. She pulled open her reticule, seeking her funds.

The tinker reached into the cart to snatch up the glimmering object. “No need for coins, miss,” he said. “This bargain calls for a trade, something of yours. Anything will do, a bit of fancy for my cart.”

“A bit of fancy?” Georgiana frowned.

“I spy a pretty blue ribbon in your bright locks, miss. That will do nicely.”

Still frowning, Georgiana reached up to touch her hair. “My ribbon?” It was a fine bit of silk, to be certain, but not worth much.

“Aye.” From under his hat, the little tinker watched her with bright eyes.

Georgiana shrugged. She pulled the ribbon free.

“Miss,” Mrs. Annesley said, reaching her. “Miss, what are you doing?”

“Making a trade,” Georgiana said officiously, as if she were the one who had proposed the bargain. “Here.” She proffered the ribbon.

“A fair trade indeed.” The tinker’s hand shot out.

Faster than Georgiana could follow, her ribbon was replaced by a gleaming silver key. She frowned down at the object. “This will not be much of a gift. To what does it go?”

“To any door, at the mid of night, to open up, a quester’s rite.”

Georgiana shook her head. “What does that mean?”

“It is nonsense,” Mrs. Annesley stated. “Give Miss Darcy her ribbon back.”

“A trade was made,” the tinker said, strangely gleeful.

Georgiana turned the key in her hand. It gleamed impossibly bright.

Mrs. Annesley caught Georgiana by the arm, turning her away from the tinker and his cart. “I sent John for the carriage. It will be here in a moment. If that vagabond will not return your ribbon for the asking, I am certain John can cause him to reconsider.”

Georgiana shook her head. “I did make the trade, and it is only a ribbon.” She started to turn back to the tinker, with, “Still, I would like to know what-”

He was gone. The tinker, the cart, even the donkey were all gone, without a sound.

***

After recovering from her shock over the tinker’s disappearance, Georgiana glumly realized she had, in some manner, been tricked.

She now had a useless silver key, and still no Christmas gift for Fitzwilliam.

Yet, something Mrs. Annesley had said stuck with her.

Her companion was correct. Georgiana did not even know what Elizabeth planned to give to Fitzwilliam.

It could be that a simple gift, like the journal, would be good enough.

So upon their return to Pemberley, while Mrs. Annesley was still refreshing herself after their outing, Georgiana slipped from her room to hunt for Elizabeth.

As she traversed the wide, elegantly appointed halls, Georgiana debated whether she should try to coax the information from Elizabeth, or simply ask her what she planned to give Fitzwilliam.

Georgiana’s new sister was not in her room, nor with their housekeeper, Mrs. Reynolds, with whom she spent a ridiculous portion of her time. Finally, one of the maids directed Georgiana to the music room. Angry that Elizabeth would be in her domain, Georgiana tromped down the hallway.

She heard the singing before she even reached the room, and slowed, mitigating her steps into near soundlessness. Inching forward, Georgiana peeked through the cracked open doorway.

Elizabeth stood inside, singing. She paused frequently, going to a table littered with papers to pen notes. It didn’t take Georgiana long to realize that her new sister worked to compose a song, a Christmas song, to Fitzwilliam. A truly special gift that would be.

Worse, from what Georgiana could hear, the song was quite lovely.

Footfalls sounded in the hallway, from around the corner. Georgiana straightened from peeking in the doorway. She couldn’t be caught spying. That would be mortifying. With nowhere else to go, she stepped into the room.

“Oh,” Elizabeth gasped, a hand going to her chest. “You startled me.” Despite those words, Georgiana’s new sister smiled at her with what appeared to be genuine warmth. Then her cheeks pinked. “You must have heard me singing.”

“I did,” Georgiana admitted.

“I am glad.” Elizabeth gestured to the pile of pages. “You see, I wrote that song for your brother, and I would be happy for your opinion.”

It was one of the loveliest songs Georgiana had ever heard. Nothing she could give Fitzwilliam would be better, or even nearly as good.

Georgiana drew in a deep breath and said, “It was a bit…unpolished.”

Elizabeth’s smile fell. She looked down at the scattered papers with a sigh.

“Oh dear, I thought it nearly complete.” She raised worried eyes.

“And I fear I am out of time. The Gardiners will arrive tomorrow,” she continued, in reference to her relations that were coming to visit.

“I should not have made my first attempt at a composition now, so near to Christmas. But we are so recently wed, and I could think of nothing else to give him. I do so want our first Christmas to be special.”

Guilt washed through Georgiana. “Well, in time it will be good. Perhaps by next Christmas? Or his birthday. That way, you will have more time.”

Elizabeth nodded. “You are correct, to be certain.” She reached to neaten her pages, looking up with a smile. “Thank you. With your musical aptitude, I should have come to you for advice to begin with.”

“Yes, you should have,” Georgiana said primly.

Elizabeth dropped her gaze for a moment, making a show of lining up the pages she held. “I did not know if you would help. I sometimes feel as if… Well, as if you resent my being here.”

“Nothing of the sort. I am happy to have you as a sister.”

Elizabeth smiled with her usual good cheer. “And I am happy to have you.” She wrinkled her nose, far too cute of a nose for Georgiana’s liking. “What should I give your brother?”

“A book. He loves books.”

“But he has so many.”

Georgiana nodded. “Proof that he loves them.”

Elizabeth chuckled at that, a rich, happy sound that grated on Georgiana. “True enough. Thank you. That is what I will do.”

Georgiana smiled back, pleased to have found the perfect Christmas gift for Fitzwilliam. Elizabeth was correct. There was nothing to buy him. Instead, Georgiana would write him an original piece of music.

***

With Christmas Eve upon them, Georgiana stared at the blank page before her.

She had struggled for days to compose something, anything.

No notes would come to her. She had never written music before, and she had not realized it would be so difficult.

Worse, the Gardiners and their children had arrived, and days at Pemberley were filled with cheerful Christmas activities, like trimming out the house, and their evenings with dinners and games.

None of which left Georgiana any time to compose.

It was all very awful, and it was all Elizabeth’s fault.

Two days before, Georgiana had sent John the footman to Lambton to purchase the journal, but he’d returned empty-handed. Someone else had bought it. No option remained for Georgiana but to compose an original piece for Fitzwilliam, and nothing would come to her.