Work Text:
One never truly recovered from a loss. A couple of years took the sting from the wound, but it still ached when one pressed on it.
Lady Bertram didn’t press often, surrounded as she was by the rest of her family: her husband, her sons and daughter that remained, her nieces, her grandchildren. Their beloved faces obscured the memory of the one that was missing.
Still, she lapsed occasionally into silent reminiscence, recalling Christmases past: Maria as a girl, chubby-cheeked, giggling. It was a mother’s prerogative to indulge in such thoughts and in the pain and pleasure carried within them.
***
The sisters were spending a quiet, cozy Christmas together, and Mrs. Grant couldn’t be happier. She missed her husband, of course, and the grand feasts they’d hosted to celebrate the season, but she couldn’t deny that it was a bit of a relief to cater only to Mary: her tastes, while expensive, were not as finical as the doctor’s had been.
There was consolation in sisterly love and kindness, and both of them were grateful for that particular balm. Neither knew what life had in store for them, but to be each other’s constant companion was good enough for now.
***
Mrs. Price couldn’t remember the last time she had been invited to stay somewhere for Christmas - it had probably been at Mansfield Park, that first year that her sister Bertram had been married - but it was lovely to be away from Portsmouth, visiting with William and his wife.
William had always been her favorite - her first and her best child - and she was repaid for her preference with the food and drink and attention he showered upon her now. How fortunate she was to spend the season with him! She would enjoy this rare treat for all it was worth.
***
Mrs. Norris had never loved anyone - not her parents nor her sisters nor her husband - the way that she loved her niece, Maria. Maria was her golden child, the daughter she’d never had, bright and beautiful and sparkling. She would do anything and everything for her; she’d sacrificed all of Mansfield Park’s opulence to stay by her side.
She was determined to make this Christmas a good one for her poor darling. The decorations would be lovely, the food delicious. She would make the shine return to dear Maria’s eyes.
She had to, for they only had each other now.
***
Fanny Price had always liked Christmas, the food and the company and the spectacle. Fanny Bertram liked it even more, though this small family Christmas was quieter than what she was used to. Its modesty made it no less delightful, for she had the people she loved best in the world by her side.
Fanny was a simple woman. She didn’t need grandeur and magnificence to be happy. She was content with her tiny joys, her love for Edmund, their growing family. It was a contentment that had been hard-won, and it was all the more precious because of it.