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“Have we finished, Will?” Eliza asked her four-year-old nephew as she helped him fasten the final button on his pajama top. She lightly smoothed the front placket of the shirt against his chest with her fingers and smiled up into his intent, small face from her kneeling position on the floor as she whispered, “I think we beat them, don’t you? Although,” she added, a coyness stealing into her voice, “not everything needs to be a competition with your uncle or your brother, Will.”
She heard a loud snort from the other side of the bedroom, followed by a muttered "Eliza, it's always a competition with you."
Together, she and the young boy standing before her turned their heads to look across at William and his younger nephew, Charlie. They had just finished pulling on the toddler’s too-big pajama bottoms, the matching pajama shirt still lying on top of the bedcovers beside them. She watched as a slow smile, etched with pride and certainty, crept over Will’s face, his deep green eyes returning to hers before he placed a hand on her cheek and concurred, “We did beat them, Auntie ‘Liza.”
Eliza and William had offered to put Will and Charlie to bed on Christmas Eve while Mary nursed her newborn daughter, Meggie and Robert, William’s brother-in-law, stoked the fire in the drawing room hearth and prepared glasses of brandy for them to share before they all turned in for the evening. As they’d ascended the stairs to the boys’ shared bedroom, William had assured her that getting the boys settled for the night would be relatively straightforward: they could divide and conquer, each helping one of the brothers and have the boys tucked in their beds in no time at all.
Eliza smiled now as she thought that perhaps William was finding the task to be a little more involved than he’d initially assumed. Despite the mildly frazzled look on her husband's face, however, she held her tongue and didn't tease him by suggesting that he could use a little more practice when it came to matters of everyday child care. They both would have time to adjust to their parenting responsibilities in the not-too-distant future.
She stood from where she had been kneeling and smoothed her skirt, then pulled back the bed covers and gently coaxed, “Climb up into bed, Will, and I’ll tuck you in.” She helped him onto the mattress, then deftly tucked the sheets and heavy wool blanket around him at his sides, his arms laying atop them before she sat down beside him on the bed. She glanced over at William, who had finished dressing Charlie at last and now was tucking the younger boy in between the sheets before placing a gentle kiss on Charlie’s forehead. He sat down on the little boy’s bed, mirroring Eliza’s position with Will as they faced each other, his hand resting protectively on Charlie's chest. He was gazing at his wife with what seemed a contented gleam in his eye, watching her draw a small book from the night table, open the cover and smooth back the pages with her fingertips.
“Papa and Mama always read this story to us on Christmas Eve,” Will informed her as his dark head nestled deep in the fluffy down pillow, his eyelids beginning to droop with weariness.
“Would it be all right with you and Charlie if I read “A Visit from St. Nicholas” this Christmas Eve instead of your parents?”
“Yes,” he answered quickly, “but could Uncle Will read it with you?”
“I think that would be a lovely plan.” She looked across at William, who smiled at her, then rose slowly and moved Charlie’s bed rail into place with a soft squeak of the hinge. She noticed that Charlie had already dropped off to sleep, his breathing steady and quiet, all snuggled in his bed.
William sat beside her on Will’s bed, his arm curling around her waist, his chin resting gently on her shoulder as the whiskers of his beard tickled her neck. She began to read, “‘Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse; The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, in hopes that St. Nicholas soon would be there.’”
She paused and moved the book closer to William, who lifted his chin and took up the tale, “‘The children were nestled all snug in their beds; While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads. And mamma in her 'kerchief ‘- “ He stopped and grinned at Eliza as he teased, “Will you be wearing a kerchief, Mama-to-be, when our next Christmas Eve comes 'round?”
“Perhaps. Will you be wearing a cap? That, I must confess, I would love to see. You might just look like a rather tall Christmas elf,” she joked in return.
Their asides were interrupted by Will correcting them as he told him through a soft, open-mouthed yawn, “No…no…that's not the way it goes, Uncle Will!...May we get back to the story…please?” he breathed out on a sleepy sigh.
William snickered in amusement, then cleared his throat to indicate he was taking the boy’s request with all due seriousness. “Of course, Will. My apologies for getting off track. Let’s see - where did we stop? Ah yes, here we are - ‘And mamma in her 'kerchief, and I in my cap, had just settled our brains for a long winter’s nap.'”
And so William and Eliza read on, taking turns until they had finished the poem in its entirety. Eliza gently closed the cover of the book and returned it to the nightstand between the boys’ beds while William moved to pull the bedcovers up more snugly around their older nephew, who was now fast asleep too, and kissed his brow lightly. Afterward, he took Eliza’s hand in his own, extinguished the bedside lamp, and drew her quietly out of the boys’ bedroom.
Once they were in the hallway, making their way toward the main staircase, Eliza said, “Thank you, William. I enjoyed reading the poem to the boys tonight, even more so because we read it to them together. It reminded me of my mother reading it when I was a little girl before she became ill and could no longer read aloud to me. I remember Father sitting in the rocking chair in my bedroom on Christmas Eve, listening attentively to my mother’s voice and gazing at us both with an almost peaceful look on his face. I’d forgotten how much I loved sharing that time with them around the holidays, and it’s been such a long while since I've had that poem read to me.”
“Well, I enjoyed it too, mo chridhe. I’ve not shared that experience with anyone else, ever, so the custom of reading it aloud with family gathered 'round feels particularly special now that I’ve done it with you, Will and Charlie. Shall we make it a new, ongoing Christmas tradition in the Wellington household - reading ‘A Visit from St. Nicholas’ with our children every Christmas Eve?” he asked, his thumb lightly stroking the smooth, soft skin of her fingers entwined with his.
“I would like that very much, William,” she replied as she gently leaned her head against his warm, solid shoulder. Stifling a yawn, Eliza continued, “I’m feeling exhausted after attending Christmas Eve Mass today and with all the excitement about you and me becoming parents. I think I’ll wish Mary and Robert a good evening and then head back upstairs and get ready for bed.”
“Would you like me to come with you? I can tell Robert and my sister that we’ve had a busy day and need our rest. We'll undoubtedly have an early start to our Christmas day with the children tomorrow.”
She shook her head. “Stay and have a nightcap with them. You hardly get to see Mary and Robert, and our time with them will go by quickly, especially with our church wedding in two days and all the preparations that will require.”
“Are you sure you’ll be fine, Eliza? It is, after all, our first Christmas together as husband and wife.”
“And as I mentioned earlier to you, although I’m pregnant, I’m not an invalid, so you needn’t rush back to our room on my account. Enjoy your time with them.”
“If you insist,” he replied reluctantly as they descended the stairs to find Robert waiting for them in the drawing room.
Handing a glass filled with brandy to William, he asked, “Any trouble getting Will and Charlie off to bed?”
“None at all,” William replied. “And they’re both sleeping like little angels as we speak.”
“Ah, good. You two will be naturals as parents; I have every confidence in you and Eliza. You already show signs of having a gentle touch with our boys, and they’re thrilled to have you both here in Glasgow again after this summer’s visit. Eliza, would you like a nightcap too?” Robert asked as he offered her the clear, topaz-colored liquor in a glass tumbler.
“I really shouldn’t, Robert, and I’ll be heading to bed soon after I find Mary to say good night. Thank you for a lovely Christmas Eve, Robert. The church was so beautifully decorated for the Advent season. William, I will see you when you come to bed.”
“I’ll be up shortly, Eliza,” he replied and bent to kiss her, the smell of brandy lingering on his lips as they pressed gently against her cheek.
*****
Having bid Mary good night, Eliza mounted the stairs to the bedroom she shared with William and opened the door. In the flickering firelight from the room’s grate, she caught a glimpse of gold in the center of their bed’s burgundy counterpane. Approaching the bed, she saw a small box wrapped in gold paper, adorned with a scarlet bow, and underneath it, another package, larger, thinner, and flatter than the box sitting atop it. It, too, was wrapped in gold paper and trimmed with scarlet ribbon, and in its center, a small card was attached. On the card, in William’s neat handwriting, she found her name, “Eliza,” and her heart began to thump with excitement. She felt like a young girl again on Christmas morning, her fingers itching to unwrap the gifts immediately to see what the packages held inside.
She steadied herself by moving to the bedside table to light a lamp, then sat on the bed and let her fingers run over the scarlet ribbon and bow. When had William placed these gifts here? Could she open them now, or was she meant to wait for him before unwrapping them? She had left her gift for him under the Christmas tree in the drawing room, where he was now drinking brandy with Robert. Should she go downstairs to retrieve it so they could exchange gifts together?
As she pondered what to do, the door to their room opened slowly, and she turned to see William entering, a half smile curving his lips as he watched her fingers gently sliding along the ribbon.
Closing the door behind him, he observed, “I see you’ve found the Christmas gifts I left for you.” He sat beside her on the bed and gazed at her before remarking, “I’m surprised you haven’t torn off the wrapping paper and trimmings already. You’re being very patient, especially as I know how much the unwrapping of gifts on Christmas Day is your favorite part, sometimes more so than the actual presents themselves.”
“You remembered!” she exclaimed gleefully, playfully nudging her shoulder into his, his warm body absorbing the impact without swaying.
“I did mention to you that I would keep that bit of information in mind for the future, did I not? Well, the future is now. So which will you open first, mo chridhe?”
“But I’ve left your gift under the tree. Let me get it for you.”
“I’ll wait until the morning. I want you to open these two tonight,” William urged her. “I want to see your face as you unwrap them in the quiet glow of our room. Tomorrow will be busy, and these gifts are meant to be shared between us.”
“If you insist -”
“I do. Open them, Eliza.”
Sliding the two gifts into her lap, she lifted the small box with the red bow and gave it a gentle shake. She could hear something sliding from side to side in the box. “Did you wrap these presents yourself?”
“I did.”
“Without any help from your sister, Ivy or Mrs. Peters?” she asked.
“Yes, I did. Don’t look so surprised, Eliza. I am capable of wrapping gifts without needing too much assistance from the women in my life.”
She pressed her hand to his cheek, her lips seeking his in a soft kiss, then pulled back from him. She smiled into his eyes and replied, “I know you're quite capable when it comes to many things, my love - in fact, excelling at them when I sometimes do not.” She leaned forward to press her forehead to his, then heard him whisper, “Go. Open them. Now. I cannot wait any longer.”
She lifted her head and turned back to the gifts on her lap. She quickly tore the bow off the top of the box, then the gold paper, handing them to William. Sliding her finger under the box’s lid, she pulled it open to find a small silver brooch with two intertwined hearts, a crown resting atop them. In the center, where the two hearts overlapped, a ruby sparkled, its scarlet facets twinkling in the firelight.
“William, it’s beautiful,” she exclaimed as she fingered it lightly. “Thank you.”
“It’s a Luckenbooth brooch, Eliza, a traditional Scottish love token. Usually, it’s given as a betrothal or wedding gift, but Mary had already sent us the two matching brooches with the intertwined thistles and the amber stones when we first married in London at the registry office, so I didn’t give you one then. Now with our wedding at St. Margaret’s in Ayr in just a few days, I wanted you to have this to replace the other brooch that was stolen from you - the one Ollie took and pawned.”
She looked up at him quickly when she heard the boy’s name. “So you know about the theft?”
“Yes, I know. Ollie came to me, as you encouraged him to do, and confessed that he’d taken your necklace and your thistle brooch to pawn for money.” Touching her hand gently as it moved nervously over the brooch, his fingers stayed hers before he continued, “But since he didn’t take both pieces to the same pawnbroker, you were only able to recover the diamond and pearl pendant necklace from Allsop’s shop, and then, only because Gilles Allsop recognized it as yours as soon as Ollie placed it on the display case. When the two of you went to the other pawnbroker's shop, your brooch had already been sold off.”
“Did Ollie tell you why he stole the items from our bedroom?” she asked quietly, her eyes never leaving his face as they searched it for signs of anger, disappointment or sadness.
“He did, and I certainly understand his motives, but all the same, I wish he hadn't taken that path.”
“He told me it was because of the nightmares you’d been having related to when you and your brother, Charlie, were boys in the workhouse in Glasgow. Ollie was upset because he believed the nightmares started after we took in him and Finn, while Finn was recovering from his broken leg.”
“Yes, and I’m sure my shouting ‘na fàg mi, na fàg mi*, Charlie’ in the wee small hours didn’t exactly dispel what Ollie was thinking. He thought his and Finn's presence in our home had dredged up all the dark memories I'd buried from my time in the workhouse and the loss of my brother. He admitted that he planned to use the money from your pawned jewelry so he and Finn could leave us and survive on the streets again for a time. Once they were gone from our house, he hoped my nightmares would cease.”
“Except he didn’t factor in that he and Finn would be trading the nightmares for our constant concern and worrying for them once they absconded,” Eliza added.
“True, and I don't want that life - one of thieving and living on the streets, what was once my life as a lad - for either of them. I told Ollie we would grant him this one grace for stealing from us, but that if he - or Finn - were ever to do it again, then there would be serious consequences for the crime. As a police officer and your husband, I have a duty to uphold to protect you and our home, and I cannot very well turn a blind eye to thieving in my own household a second time.”
“What did Ollie say?”
“That he understood and would never steal from us again. He promised, gave me his word, and I accepted it. Luckily, he and Finn have some time away from us with the Westons while we're in Glasgow, and I hope Ollie will use that time to reflect on our conversation and his actions. Spending time with Maribelle, Weston, and their daughter, Amelia at Christmastime will be good for the lads, I think.” Drawing in a deep breath, he held it, then said, “You really should have told me sooner what happened with your necklace and the brooch.”
Placing a hand gently on his chest, she answered, “Perhaps I should have, but I wanted Ollie to tell you what he had done and accept responsibility for his actions. I didn’t think it was my place to tell you he'd stolen my jewelry; it was Ollie who needed to make things right with you. Luckily, I was able to get my necklace back with no harm done, and whilst I'm disappointed that my brooch couldn’t be recovered, this Luckenbooth brooch is lovely and more than makes up for the loss of the other. And we still have your thistle brooch from Mary.”
“Yes, there's that, but next time - if the next time comes to pass - I hope you'll come to me first so we can solve the problem together. No more withholding or secreting information, Eliza, especially with regard to the lads and our family. Do we have an understanding?"
"Yes, we do, and I will hold to it as best I can," she murmured as she turned the brooch over in her hand, marveling at the beauty of the sparkling ruby and the two intertwined hearts. “I love you, William, more and more each day - for giving Ollie and Finn a second chance, for being fair and understanding, for standing up for the downtrodden and those less fortunate than ourselves. For being my best friend in addition to a good, decent man - perhaps the best man I will ever know, for - “
But her words were swallowed up as his lips covered hers urgently. She felt his warmth wrap itself around her, and a tear slid down her cheek as their kiss grew deeper. His hands cradled her face gently, and she felt the press of his lips to her cheek to capture the errant tear and carry it away.
“Shhhhh, mo chridhe, no more tears,” he whispered.
“Did no one tell you I might be an emotional mess during my pregnancy?” She blinked back the tears and tried to smile, her nose and cheeks pink with emotion.
“Not yet, but whatever our journey to becoming parents holds, you know that I will always be there to kiss away your tears. It’s one of the few times when you allow me to be strong for you, Eliza, and I relish being your rock, your touchstone.” He kissed her forehead, then urged her, “Turn the brooch over.”
As Eliza turned the brooch in her hand, the firelight caught an engraving she had missed previously. “It has our initials. WWW and EAS. William, it’s perfect.”
“Oftentimes, the Luckenbooth brooch will have the couple’s initials engraved on the back, and while it can be a betrothal gift, it can also be pinned to a baby’s clothing, bearing his or her parents’ initials to protect the wee bairn from harm. Long ago, it was used by the Scots to save children from the Evil Eye. And when the time comes, you could wear it as a charm to help your milk flow once you’ve begun nursing our child. At some point, this brooch can be passed down to Henry, if we have a son, or Rachael, if we have a daughter, to remain in our family.”
She leaned forward and kissed him, murmuring softly, “I adore it, and I adore you even more.”
He chuckled and then flicked the edges of the second gift on her lap to draw her attention back to it. “All right,” he coaxed. “Time to open the next gift, and I’ll give you a hint - it goes with your brooch.”
“Don’t spoil the surprise. No more clues.” She laughed and handed the brooch to William to hold while she opened her second gift. She tore off the paper and ribbon to find a tartan sash in the Wellington plaid, the pattern a perfect match to his kilt with its blue, green, red, and black colors.
“Since we had to return Mary’s earasaid**, and since you’re marrying a Scotsman, for the second time, you now have a Luckenbooth brooch to pin this sash over your wedding gown. I wanted you to have your very own Wellington tartan, so everyone will know that I am yours and you are mine for the rest of our lives, mo chridhe. What do you say? Will you wear them on our upcoming wedding day?”
Looping the sash around his neck, Eliza pulled him closer, her lips brushing a feather-light kiss against his as she murmured, “I'd be delighted to wear your colors on our wedding day, but perhaps I should give them a trial run this evening - in lieu of my nightdress.”
“I thought you were tired,” he smiled, his desire for her sparking in his darkening green eyes.
“I think I’m getting a second wind,” she grinned back at him, her fingers moving slowly down the front placket of his shirt before returning to rest at his open collar, where she gently stroked the notch between his collarbones. “Merry Christmas, my love.”
“Merry Christmas, Eliza. I love you,” and he pulled her down on the bed and kissed her breathless.
_______
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!" - Happy Holidays to you and your loved ones!