A Christmas to Remember

A CHRISTMAS TO REMEMBER

CHAPTER 1

It had been the longest two years of George McPhee’s life. The war had been gruesome. George had left for the war a vibrant lad with a starry eyed view of the world. He knew better now. He had seen far too much not to. He had seen far too many men betray their own men at their lowest points. He had seen enough gruesome deaths to last a lifetime. He knew now more than ever that life was precious. However, it was not given the respect it should. It was not handled with as much care as it deserve.

George had suffered all faces of losses; the fear and pain in the last two years of his life were more than he used to imagine anyone should have to in their entire life. He had lost people when he joined the forces anew and even more so during the war. Even the friends he had left home with had perished and those who had not died had suffered some sort of life altering injuries. He had seen some of his friends die right in front of him. He had seen swords pierce through the hearts of men and had held some in his arms as they took their last breaths.

George understood the transition from life to death despite being alive. He had seen the last look in men’s eyes as they went on to the great beyond. It did not help that he had also contributed to the loss of many men’s lives.

Now, he was back where it all started, his home. A fortnight to Christmas, and a time to merry and not mourn. He had resolved in his carriage ride to put all the darkness behind him and gather whatever pleasure life could still offer. Now that he knew how easily he could lose his life, savoring the moment’s pleasure seemed to be the bright side of life.

He stared at his home from a distance, reveling in all its glory. McPhee manor had not changed much. He could see the trees had aged but they only looked even more beautiful. The walls still looked as sturdy as ever. He was back with his rightful title as Earl of Urdale, a man who had served his country for years.

For the first time in years, George was calm. He did not look over his shoulder to duck or attack. He simply took a deep breath, inhaling the fresh air of his home. He would have closed his eyes too but habit made him refrain from doing so. He still needed to know one of his men was watching over him before completely losing guard.

A heavyset woman clad in an outrageous red gown rushed up to him and squeezed him in an embrace. He laughed, his eyes crinkled with joy, as he did. Mother had not changed. She still loved to dress in the oddest of attires. He enveloped her in his arms. She smelt like fresh roses and butter cookies. Those butter cookies she used to bake him as a child. She felt like all the good things in life. She released him and cupped his cheeks. He could see the tears of joy strolling down her eyelids.

“My George, ‘Twas only but a dream to have you back in my arms.”

George sniffed, holding his tears back. It was not befitting of a man such as himself to cry. “‘Tis no longer a dream. I am here, hale and hearty like a newborn. A dream come true.”

His mother hugged him again. When she released him, they walked into the manor. The chauffeur opened the doors. He bowed. “Welcome home milord.”

George smiled. He had missed even Sebastian, his chauffeur who never seemed to talk. “Thank you, Sebastian.”

George saw that the house had been decorated for Christmas despite the fact that Christmas was still a fortnight away. There was a big tree in the entrance hall with different ornaments. He could recognize some even. He smiled. The only way they had celebrated Christmas at war was by eating pie. Although, it was shared in the smallest of slices, it had been so important to everyone to get a slice. It was the only thing they had to look forward.

“We decorated early for you. ‘Twould have been such a shame to not see this smile you have on,” his mother provided.

“Thank you mother. ‘Tis a beautiful sight to behold indeed.”

They finally got to the drawing room and George took in another deep breath. This time, it was to inhale aroma of different foods. The room smelled of all his favorite meals. Meals he had desperately missed. His smile threatened to tear either sides of his mouth. “Mother, are those butter cookies and cake I smell?”

His mother nodded. “Yes, I even made them myself. I would not let Mrs. Combs help on this great occasion. Nothing else fit for a befitting welcome.”

He pulled his mother in for another hug. “Thank you mother. I cannot wait to enjoy the tasty meals you have made me. How about Mrs. Combs? Where is she?”

A slim aged woman walked into the room. She, like George and his mother had a bright smile on her lips. “Milord, ‘tis so good to have you back.”

“Mrs. combs! ‘Tis so good to be back.”

A loud noise from the entrance interrupted their greeting. A red headed young man, limped into the room, on crutches. “George, my eyes do not deceive me. You are back.” He exclaimed.

George rushed to his side and hugged him. Both men held on to each other, laughing. This was Andrew Baker, George’s best friend. They had gone to the war together but following the injury that had caused Andrew to limp, he had been sent home from the war. George had seen the incident that caused Andrew’s feet to shorten. A man on the opposing side had drawn his sword and severed his feet off in a swipe. It was a miracle that he could still move on crutches. For a long time, George had blamed himself for the injury, wishing he had been there to protect his friend. It was not until he had exacted revenge on the culprit had he felt a little better.

“Your eyes do not deceive you, Andrew. ‘Tis me. ‘Tis me Andrew. I came home.”

Andrew held on to him tighter. For the first time, George truly thought of how it must have felt for him to leave his men at war and come to a home with such a life changing injury.

Andrew finally released him and grabbed on to his crutches tighter. “‘Tis so good to see you. I spent many a night dreaming of this day.”

“So did I.”

It was at this moment George noticed that Andrew was not his only new visitor. There was a beautiful redheaded lady beside him, she looked very familiar but he was sure if he had seen her before he would surely have recognized her. One did not see such a beauty and forget her. She was fair. So fair, that he feared that if a person’s touch lingered on her too long; her skin would redden under the pressure.

Her face was oval shaped with eyes, nose and mouth that were just the perfect sizes. Her hair, which was probably the most striking thing about her, shone brightly even in the room. George was instantly enamored.

“Your letters did not mention that your bride is a fine lady indeed.” George accused.

Everyone in the room burst out laughing. Mother spoke first, “‘tis not Andrew’s bride. ‘Tis Frannie. Remember her? Andrew’s sister.”

George’s eyes threatened to come out of their sockets. He remembered Frannie but he definitely did not remember her looking this way. Frannie had been lankly and frail. She had been a child when he left and had followed her brother all over the ton. She had insisted on playing every game he and Andrew played, maintaining her ground that girls were not much different from boys. Now, she looked nothing like a child. She looked like a woman who was ready to be presented to the ton for marriage. He looked at her again and she muffled laughter.

“Frannie?”

Everyone nodded.

Frannie curtsied. “Thank you for your service Milord. ‘‘Tis truly an honor to have you back home.”

George was too taken aback by his shock he could not hear a word she said.

* * *

It was such a fine weather that day. The sun shone brightly and its reflection against the lake was striking. The capercaillies flew just above the water, giving the water a telluric feel. He had never really been a fan of the lake. However, something about not having the luxury of standing beside it and fishing for fun and not to abate starvation, had made him miss the lake. In fact, he had thought about fishing so many times that he knew ot had to be one of the very first things he did when he returned. He was glad he was doing it with his friend and his beautiful sister.

George stole another look at Frannie. She sat beside him and her brother on a huge but smooth rock. She looked so beautiful under the sunlight. She grinned from ear to ear and even if he was not already excited, he imagined that seeing her would have ignited some excitement in him. He had thought about her almost all through the night. It was only befitting that he spent the day with her as well.

George shook his head. It was not time to think about his dearest friend’s sister. He held his hand up and crossed his finger. “For luck,” he informed. Then he cast his line into the lake.

Andrew and Frannie laughed, as Andrew cast his line. “Nay my good friend. Luck has no part to play in this. ‘Tis been decided that I shall take home the largest catch.”

Frannie laughed. It was obvious she felt at home with them. There was something in her eyes that spoke volumes of gratitude. It seemed as though she was grateful to be experiencing this moment. George imagined that she had missed spending time with them as much as he had missed the simplicity of his home.

“‘Tis such a great laugh i shall have when ‘tis me who takes home the greatest catch,” Frannie stated.

George laughed. “You shall let two war heroes lose out on great victories?”

Frannie laughed. “Aye, all is fair in war and fishing.”

“Aye, I feel something.” Andrew called as he reeled in his line. On the end of the line was a medium sized brown trout.

George shook his head lightly. “Do not celebrate yet my friend. Surely, I shall catch a bigger fish. Perhaps even a Pike.”

They all laughed. Pikes were very rare and often regarded as the shark of freshwater. Even skilled commercial fishermen rarely caught pikes. “It may seem as though the time spent at war has made you forget the difference between a mere mirage and reality,” Andrew stated.

George laughed. He had missed this even much more than he could explain. “You my friend, shall eat your words when you see my Pike.”

A few minutes later, Frannie shot up from the rock. “I am getting something.” She laughed as he reeled his line in. “Mine is certain to be bigger than even a pike.”

At the end of Frannie’ line was a stickleback. She could not hide her disappointment at catching such a small fish. Brandon and George laughed. “The saying holds true. Pride goeth before a fall,” Andrew joked.

Frannie cackled. “I hope George’s fish is bigger than yours. Then, you would not look so smug.”

George curtsied. “The fine lady has given me her vote of confidence. ‘Tis my duty to uphold it.” He cast his line into the lake. Soon, he reeled the line in. He had caught a big brown trout. He smiled smugly and spoke. “ The lady did cast a winning vote.”

Frannie’s face took on red hues. She smiled like a child who had been handed a bag of sweets.

Andrew placed his hands up in show of surrender. “ ‘Tis a mighty one you have there. I concede.”

They had started fishing by morning. The sun was setting now and as all good things must, their fishing had to come to an end. George and Frannie stood and helped Andrew up. They walked back to the manor as the lake was roght behind the manor. Once again, they used the time to catch up on everything George had missed in his time at war, including the tons’ many balls, his mother’s extravagant outfits.

By the time they had gotten to the manor, George did not want to see them go. “Thank you for keeping me company today. ‘Tis not a thing I take for granted.”

“Oh hush,” Andrew admonished. “‘Twas a thing we enjoyed greatly.”

They helped Andrew up to the carriage. Frannie did not enter immediately. Rather she smiled at George and clasped his hands. George felt something ignite in him. He felt it all over his body. The hairs on the back of his neck stood. He felt so alive all of a sudden. It was a mystery how only one touch could do that to him.

Frannie whispered “Thank you. ‘Twas the first time since the war that i have seen that spark in my brother’s eye.”

George smiled because he had made his friend happy and even grinned wider because he had made Frannie happy.

CHAPTER 2

George smiled. He had been doing do since the day before. Something about Frannie made his heart glad. He thought of how much she had changed from the scrawny little girl he knew to the woman he had spent the previous day with. She had grown both physically and mentally. She acted so much more mature than a lady her age needed to. It was probably life and what it had thrown at her that had made her grow so fast. He knew her father had died right at the beginning of the war and then her only brother had returned from war with a foot missing. She had had to take care of a man who had taken care of her all her life. He admired her so greatly.

George did not know much anything how he wanted his life to go. During the war, he had always stopped himself from thinking about life back home and what he would do when he returned. It had been too painful and too impossible to reach for. Most of the people he had begun the war with had died. He had felt death was imminent for him. Now, he was home without plans for the future but he was not complaining. He knew what he wanted to do today, which was spend his day with Frannie. And that was enough for him.

He left his room and went to the barn, where he was greeted by the stable boy, Joshua. However, he was far more concerned about his horse, Magic. Joshua opened her stable. George touched her . She neighed loudly. He climbed her and it felt exactly the way it had years ago. Magic had been a gift from his father when he was ten. He loved her so much. She was like the sister he never had. It was evident that she felt the same as she had not forgotten home. It had been almost two years since he rode her but she remembered him. She knew exactly how he wanted to be transported. They still had their own language.

He rode her around the ton, visiting the places he remembered. Everywhere was decorated for Christmas. There were trees everywhere. He could smell different meals. He could hear the little children singing Christmas carols. It was all coming back to him. How much he had missed his home. How grateful he was to be back. Many people recognized him and greeted him.

He was still in the town when he saw Frannie. She was carrying a bag. He beckoned for Magic to stop. She did.

“Frannie,” he called.

Frannie turned and he could see the bright smile that graced her face. “Good day, Milord,”

He got off the horse. “What are you doing in town?” George asked.

“I needed to get some home supplies for Andrew.”

“I see you did not come with a carriage,” he observed.

“ ‘Twas in use and I figured a little walk would do no harm.”

“Magic and I shall take you home then,” he stated, as he beckoned the horse to bend to accommodate her.

Frannie shook her head vehemently. “Nay, I shan’t be the cause of an abrupt end to your time in town. Surely, you have missed it far more than I can ever imagine and want to merry in the sight of your true home.”

This was one of the reasons he liked Frannie. She was obviously tired. Her eyes looked somewhat red, she had sweat dripping down her forehead and her hair, disheveled. Yet, she was refusing a comfortable ride home just to ensure he was not bothered. She had always been like that. Always taking care of everyone around her. Thankfully, she had also been surrounded by people who took care of her as well.

“Do not be silly, Frannie. Surely you do not expect that i ride off, leaving you under a sun as scorching as this? Do you?”

“Yet, I fear that is rather unnecessary as I can make my way home without bothering your previously laid plans.”

George had always known Frannie was stubborn so he was not surprised. He merely chuckled. “I must take you home. Not only to save you from this excruciating heat but also to see your mother. ‘Tis of urgent need to do that. Surely you do not see a point in leaving you here while I ride to your abode, do you?”

Frannie smiled. It was that slight blush he had come to really enjoy seeing that came out again. “If you insist....” she stated.

George nodded. “That I do.”

He holstered her up and when she was successfully seated on Magic, he hopped on the horse as well. Soon he was seated right behind Frannie, holding on to the horse and by extending her. He felt the rush he had been feeling almost everyday since he had seen her again. She felt so good in his arms that he imagined it would be difficult when it finally came time to let her go. She smelled so good as well, of rose water. He felt his heart race at every gallop. It was for two reasons, one, the thrill of riding on magic finally, after the time spent apart. The second was simply Frannie. This woman was definitely good for his health. George had to remind himself he was on a horse a number of times. The ride was pleasurable and torturous; pleasurable because he enjoyed touching Frannie and being close to her however possible. Torturous however, because he could do nothing more about it; all he could feel was her back. George shook his head and sighed. This was his dearest friend’s little sister. Granted, she looked nothing like a little sister now. It was just the right thing to do.

He reckoned that even during war, he had not thought this much while driving a horse. His only goal had usually been to propel the horses. This ride was set to be one of the longest of his life.

* * *

The moment Magic stopped at the Baker ranch, a slim aged woman rushed to George’s side. “George,” she called.

She enveloped him in a bear hug and he reciprocated. How could he not? It was Mrs. Baker, Andrew’s mother. He had spent most of his childhood being watched by her, while he and Andrew played. It had been two years since he had last seen her but she had not changed much. She still had that youthful glint in her eyes. She had aged well, despite all life had thrown her way.

She released him and turned him around to assess him. “What has it been? Ten years?”

George laughed. Mrs. Baker had always had a knack for exaggerating things. It was one of the reasons he loved her. “Aye, that it has been.”

She turned to look at Frannie, who was looking on at the scene with a bright smile on her face. “Did you get all the items, Francesca?”

Frannie nodded. “Yes mother, all at good bargains too.”

Her mother smiled. “Good good.” She reached out to hug him again. When she released him, she held his arms and walked into the house. When they were in, George noticed that they had not decorated their home for Christmas. It was quite surprising. Mrs. Baker had always loved Christmas more than anyone else he knew and that included his mother. He wondered why it was so.

As if she had read his mind, the older woman spoke, “We shall put up Christmas decorations today. You must stay to help.”

“‘Twould be a pleasure Ma’am.” George walked to the kitchen to drop the bag Frannie had been carrying earlier. He still remembered the house very vividly. However, Frannie still followed him. They arranged the items together. He saw that she had only purchased foodstuff. When they came out, they met Francesca’s mother bringing out decoration items.

“Francesca, please bring the pie for George. The Earl of Urdale is in my house and I shall host him ever so finely.”

George laughed. Sometimes he forgot he was an Earl, a man of status and title. “Thank you Mrs. Baker.”

Francesca nodded and headed to the kitchen again. She came back with a pecan pie, cut a slice and handed it to George, who collected it and took a bite immediately.

George sighed. He had missed eating Mrs. Baker’s famous pies. In all the ton, she made the best pies.

“Still as marvelous as ever. ‘Tis one of the things I missed at war,” he complimented.

Mrs. Baker grinned from ear to ear. It was then Andrew walked in.

“‘Tis my hope that I shan’t be left out of this merry making,” Andrew stated.

George laughed. “‘Tis a good hope to have, dear friend.”

Mrs. Baker spoke next, “It is a good thing we have a good number of hands. There is much to be done. I did knit new stockings to hang, there are also family heirlooms to put on a tree. However, we have no tree.”

With Andrew’s injury, it would be practically impossible for him to cut the tree. Women were also forbidden from such heinous tasks. It was a man’s duty to cut trees so it naturally fell on George’s shoulders. It was not a task he minded. He felt rather honored to carry it out. “I shall cut the tree,” George stated.

“We mustn’t forget the gingerbread house. Frannie bakes the best gingerbread cookies in all of London. You shall get a taste today George. After that, I am assured you shall always keep calling for my little sister,” Andrew said.

George sneaked a peek at Frannie, before responding to Andrew. Her cheeks had taken on the color of a ripe tomato. “‘Twill be a great honor to taste of these famous cookies.”

CHAPTER 3

Francesca Baker had known since she was a wee little girl that she was born to marry George McPhee. She had known him all her life and one thing she was certain of, was that he was a valiant man with a beautiful heart. He had first been the wispy boy she had followed around with her brother. Now, he was a grown man with a chiseled physique and big brown eyes, who was the Earl of Urdale.

When Andrew had left for the war, it had been gruesome for her, as she had a very close relationship with her brother. However, the fact that George had left too, made it even worse. She had felt so alone in the world. She had prayed day and night for them to return safely. No one but her had understood why she had looked so sickly in that period except her. Then Andrew had returned with one foot cut off and George had remained back at war. While, she had been grateful her brother had not lost more than a foot and had returned home unlike the many men who had died at war, her worries had only increased. If Andrew had returned only after a few months at war with a foot gone, what would happen to George had stayed back?

Francesca had spent many a night on her knees, praying for George. Now, he had returned, fully unharmed and healthy. Since his return, she had been incapable of frowning. Her lips had been constantly widened. Even her mother had noticed the change and had mentioned a few days agi. Of course, Francesca had waved it off. Her love was her best kept secret. It was sometimes also a painful one, as she knew how George saw her–his dearest friend’s little sister. It was nothing close to what she wanted him to see her as. She wanted to him to see her as a woman, one who would become his Countess and eventually, the mother of his heirs. However, she had learnt to live with it and continue reveling in the joy of spending as much time as possible with him.

Today was yet another good day, like everyday since George’s return. He was in her house decorating with her. She had begged to follow him to the forest to cut a tree but had not been allowed. Her mother had made her stay back to bake. Her happiness still had not dimmed. Her Prince Charming was set to be back.

She had been baking for almost two hours when George returned. Immediately he had dropped the tree, he had run to the kitchen for a drink of water. He had done away with his tailcoat and was wearing a shirt. The shirt clung to him, as he was sweating profusely. Francesca swallowed. She felt something tingly inside her right from the top of her head to the toes on her feet. This man looked like a god. She knew she was staring too much but could not bring herself to look away from him. He was simply glorious.

George stopped drinking and headed her way. He picked up a gingerbread cookie and their fingers touched. They both jolted but could not stop staring at one another. It was in that moment Francesca knew she was not the only one who had felt whatever it was that had just happened. He felt it too. She smiled and he smiled, all the while still staring intently into one another’s eyes. It was like an unspoken message and for the first time ever, she truly felt like George did not see her as merely his dearest friend’s little sister.

* * *

George had woken up with only one thing on his mind, Frannie. She had been the only thing occupying his mind lately. He had taken to spending even more time with Andrew so he could see her. He decided it was time to spend time with Frannie alone and this time, Andrew’s job would be to chaperone it. He had done the only reasonable thing a man who was enamored by his best friend’s sister would do, requested permission from his friend to ask for his sister’s hand. Andrew had been overjoyed at the prospect and had excitedly given a response. Now, it time to do the right and frightening thing – ask Frannie.

He had taken his bath, one that had been drawn for him before he woke up like he usually requested and thereafter began to dress. He had changed from a tailcoat to a waistcoat and back many times before settling on a waistcoat. He slicked his hair backwards. He needed to look his best for this. It was possibly one of the most important questions he would ever ask.

He was sure he wanted Frannie to be his countess. She was kind, caring and smart and nit at all like any other woman he knew. He had also known her for years so he knew what he was doing. It also helped that he found her to be the most beautiful woman in all of the ton with her bright red hair and sparkly green eyes. She was the kind of woman that stood out in a crowd. The kind of woman who would make his home come alive and bear him beautiful children.

Before the war, he might have delayed on wedding. However, after witnessing the shortness of life, he knew better than to wait on things and delay on even the littlest of things. He knew what he wanted. And it was Frannie, right by his side, throughout all of his days.

He hopped on Magic and rode to the Baker house with the lilies his mother had carefully selected for this occasion. She had been so overjoyed at the news because she loved Frannie like a daughter.

When he got to the Baker house, Frannie opened the door.

“Good morning, milord,” she greeted.

George did not have the time to greet. He wanted to start the new chapter if his life as soon as possible. He knelt on one knee, as many men had done before him and presented the flowers. Frannie appeared confused. He had never spoken of his love before. He had never expressed to her what she meant to him. There was no way she could have known she was much more to him than Andrew’s sister. That he had looked at her with the eyes of a man in love all this time, that it was because of her he had visited the house so much.

“‘Tis with great love I am on one knee, to request that you be my bride, Francesca Baker.”

Frannie had tears in her eyes. She sniffed and blinked like she could not comprehend what was happening. Finally she broke into a laughter and began to nod vehemently.

“Aye?” He asked, desperate for an answer.

“Aye, Lord McPhee. ‘Tis but a dream of little Frannie you have fulfilled.”

George smiled so wide, the sides of his mouth began to ache. He did not mind. After all, his plans had come to fruition. This was truly a Christmas to remember.