Chapter Fourteen

Christmas Eve dinner was an extravagant affair at the Lavelle Plantation. Before Maggie was an enormous glazed ham, a roasted turkey and a suckling pig. The image of the pig was a little frightening for Maggie. Their cook usually ordered portions of the animal as opposed to the entire pig. Accompanying the meat was all sorts of delicious smelling trimmings, including roasted vegetables and boiled potatoes, herbed stuffing and gravy.

There was another kind of company at the table as well, an undesired kind. Max had indeed invited Janna Sunderland to join them for dinner. The sat next to each other, chatting comfortably while sampling the various dishes.

Maggie was disinterested in her dinner, losing her appetite every time their fingers brushed together. She often seemed to make excuses to touch him and he her.

She was glad that Zachary was engaged in conversation with Isaac and Joanna as otherwise he would have noticed her glowering at Janna.

“So, Miss Maggie, tell me, how does this evening differ to how you celebrate the holiday in England?” Janna asked curiously, taking a sip from her wine.

The table quietened to listen to Maggie’s response. Maggie took a moment to calm herself for if she spoke straight away she would have most definitely growled. “We do not eat on Christmas Eve,” she murmured. “My Aunt Bess cooks for us on Christmas Day.”

“Is she your aunt as well, Max?” Janna asked him.

“Bess is my step mother’s sister-in-law,” he replied, “so I do not know what she is in relation to me, but we call her ‘Aunt Bess’ all the same.”

“Don’t you keep a cook?” Joanna asked Maggie accusingly. “I was under impression that your adoptive family were aristocrats.”

“Aunt Bess likes to give the servants the day off on Christmas. She does not think it is right for them to be cooking and serving us on Christmas Day. While we are aristocrats, my aunt being a duchess, we are raised to be humble, gracious and compassionate.” Maggie emphasised the fact that she was a part of the aristocratic family. She was quickly growing tired of the Lavelles referring to her family as being merely ‘adoptive’.

“I think that’s lovely,” Janna interjected.

“As do I,” Zachary agreed. “Your aunt sounds like a very classy lady.”

Maggie was happy that both she and Max could exchange a subtle amused expression. Bess could be very classy in public, but behind closed doors she was boisterous, argumentative, and at times incredibly humorous.

“I love that you both have such a large family. I am very envious. I have only a half-brother who is ten years my senior and our age difference meant that we did not grow up together,” said Janna.

Maggie deduced that she was the daughter of her father’s second wife. “I am eight years older than my nearest sibling,” replied Maggie. She didn’t really want to engage in conversation with the woman but it was polite.

“My half-sister, Grace, is twelve years younger than me,” added Max, “but my elder sister is only three years my senior.”

“Well I envy all of you,” Zachary announced, “for I have no siblings.”

Maggie noticed Joanna’s face fall a little. Maggie remembered a story that Isaac had told her in England. Joanna’s sister and Zachary’s mother had died of consumption when he was eleven and his father had passed away before he was born. Seeing that emotion on Joanna’s face reminded Maggie that she was not all bad. She’d experienced loss, too.

“What are your families doing right now?” Janna asked both Max and Maggie, changing the subject. She had obviously noticed Joanna’s sensitivity as well.

“My family would be travelling to my Uncle Emmett’s estate at Ascot,” Maggie replied. “Where Max lives,” she added.

“Your adoptive uncle,” stated Isaac. This time it did not sound as though he was clarifying, merely correcting her.

Maggie had had enough. “No, not adoptive, just my uncle,” she said firmly. “I may have been adopted but they are my family regardless of blood. I mean no offence, Mr Lavelle, but I didn’t even know your name until a few months ago,” she said icily, “and it was very good of my father to allow me to come here with you.” Despite his active protestations, of course. “Excuse me,” she muttered, “but I’ve lost my appetite.”  

Maggie hurriedly exited the dining room and made her way outside. The sun was gone and the temperature had once again rapidly dropped. She rubbed her arms to warm herself with the friction but it did not do very much.

She was very frustrated with herself. She had come to America to find herself. She had come to get to know Isaac and she had come to view her inheritance. She had been tired of receiving discriminatory treatment from her family’s acquaintances and she’d thought that by travelling to America this might change. All she’d experienced was hostility and rules that seemed simply unfair and unjust.

And in doing all this, she had hurt her family by leaving.

She was lost! She still was lost. She had grown up feeling devoid of something and she was quickly feeling as though Georgia was not the place to find it.

“You will come back inside this minute, Miss Margaret!” hissed Joanna from behind her.

Maggie spun around and glared at her step mother. “Only my parents are allowed to call me that,” she snapped angrily, and they only called her that when they were cross. Joanna had been first out of the house. She was quickly being followed by the rest of the party. She could see Max’s form but she could not see his face.

“You are a guest here, young lady, and you will behave as such. You are currently behaving as though you are an uneducated, street lurking mulatto!” she shouted accusingly.

Maggie’s eyes widened as she gasped. The word stung incredibly and she willed herself not to cry. She would not give anyone the satisfaction.

Max was at her side in a second, pulling her into his arms. “That’s quite enough,” he spat, clearly seething.  

“Joanna, I don’t want that word used,” Isaac told his wife quietly. “It is not appropriate or correct. Maggie’s mother was Spanish after all.”

Regardless of the fact that Maggie’s mother was Spanish, it did not deter from the fact that Joanna had insinuated that her colouring made her less of a person.

“I am behaving as any person would when their family members are being reduced to something that is less than they are,” Maggie told Joanna tensely. Max squeezed her subtly, letting her know of his approval of her words.

“Aunt Jo, apologise to Miss Maggie,” Zachary instructed. “It’s Christmas and we can’t be going into church angry with each other.”

Joanna sighed. “My apologies,” she said reluctantly. “I hope you can forgive me.”

‘No, I don’t want to,’ she thought bitterly. “Thank you,” Maggie murmured. She would be civil but only because it was Christmas.

“Good,” Isaac said, sounding satisfied. Did he believe that a forced apology would make everything alright? Joanna’s behaviour towards Maggie would have to dramatically improve if he wanted her civility towards Joanna to continue. “Now, can we journey back inside? I don’t want good food to go to waste.”

Maggie ate turkey for the first time and did not particularly enjoy it. To her, it tasted quite bland and watery and she much preferred the glazed ham that had been prepared. She also enjoyed the vegetables, gravy and stuffing, which all reminded her of her Aunt Bess’ Christmas cooking. She was glad that she did not abandon the meal out of stubbornness.

At half past ten, they were instructed to return to their bedrooms to collect whatever they would need to bring with them to Midnight Mass. Maggie draped herself in a travelling cloak as she knew she would need the thick layer after experiencing the cool temperature earlier. She still had nearly half an hour until they were all due to convene downstairs so Maggie ventured out onto her balcony and climbed over onto Max’s. It was a little difficult with the multiple layers of petticoats she was wearing but she managed to stagger onto Max’s balcony without injuring herself.

Maggie let herself into Max’s bedroom and found it momentarily vacant, that was until she saw his shadow behind the privacy screen.

“Max,” she said, letting him know that she was in his bedroom.

“I’ll just be a moment,” he replied.

Max’s bedroom was very similar to hers. The bed, linens and furniture were all the same, though he lacked a dressing table. Maggie sat down on the edge of his bed and noticed his drawing book open on top of the duvet. He would never stop surprising her with his talent. She wished that he would further pursue it, to perhaps undertake an apprenticeship or something similar. He was destined to become a professional painter, one who was sought after all over the country to paint fine lords and ladies. While she, personally, detested sitting for hours and hours before a painter and his canvas, Max loved sitting for hours and hours in front of a canvas.   

The drawings she found in his book were not what she usually found. There were several rough, yet beautiful, sketches of Janna. On a single page he’d drawn her profile, and the pieces of her face individually – her eyes and her lips – it was as if he was obsessing over her beauty! Maggie closed the book angrily and tossed it to the side in an immature fashion.

Could it be possible that Max genuinely fancied Janna? She was beautiful, to be sure, but was their attraction real? They had certainly made it known at dinner that they were on friendly terms.

The thought of Max marrying had never really occurred to her. He had always been by her side so the thought of him not being there was not a notion that she had ever pondered. Did she only dislike Janna so much because she didn’t want her friend to leave her?

Max was an irreplaceable person in Maggie’s life.

Janna did seem nice enough. That didn’t change the fact that they had known each other for barely two days.

Max came out from behind the screen wearing a fine suit and a travelling coat. He’d also donned a hat and he’d shined his shoes. “Are you alright?” he asked in a concerned tone. “What Joanna said was well out of line.”

“It is not the first time someone has said something unkind towards me,” Maggie replied quietly, rising from the bed.

“It will be the last time if I have anything to say about it,” he said angrily, taking her hand. “Nothing makes me more irate than disrespectful behaviour, especially if that behaviour is directed at you.”

“You are so good to me, Max,” Maggie said, smiling as she placed a hand on the side of his cheek. “I truly don’t deserve you.”

“But you do,” he countered. “You deserve everything and more.”

Maggie hoped Janna knew just how lucky she was to have Max paying her romantic attention. Even if she didn’t like it one bit she knew he was a truly decent man.

They both went downstairs and were joined by the rest of their party. Janna immediately looped her arm through Max’s and he brushed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. The ease of their touch made Maggie see that there was something there. Her friend was slowly drifting from her, even if he didn’t see it yet.

“I sincerely apologise for my aunt’s behaviour earlier, Miss Maggie,” Zachary said regretfully, offering her his arm. He did look very remorseful. “It was unwarranted and she acted appallingly.” He was lucky that Joanna and Isaac were not within earshot. Joanna was fixing her hair before a mirror in the atrium and Isaac was conversing with the carriage driver.

“Thank you,” she said gratefully. Maggie was glad that her nephew was a kind and considerate man.

“It is not you that Aunt Jo dislikes,” he continued quietly, “but the mere fact that you exist.”

Maggie’s eyebrows arched in an offended way. Was he trying to insult her or make her feel better? She couldn’t decide.

Zachary rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed with himself. “I apologise, that was not what I meant. I mean that Aunt Jo and Isaac never had children, so that fact that you exist means the fault is with my aunt,” he explained. “It is because of her that they have no children. She may behave is though she is a self-righteous, horrible woman, but she can be very kind. She took me in when I was a boy and she is very much a mother to me. I hope she shows her kind side to you.” Zachary seemed to be very fond of Joanna and he was determined to show her in a more positive light. Maggie thought it admirable of him.

Maggie did have some experience with hostile women, though she had never been on the receiving end of it before. Maggie could remember her grandmother, Marie, being very grumpy throughout her childhood. “I appreciate you telling me this, Mr Kincaid,” Maggie said frankly.

Zachary smiled, relieved. “I appreciate you hearing me, Miss Maggie.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Max and Janna talking quite intensely. Their faces were very close together as the whispered about some serious subject. If Max could find someone that he enjoyed those sorts of intimacies with then perhaps Maggie could too. And why not with Zachary? He was charming and very handsome, and he cared very much about his family and he was passionate about the success of the plantation. She would make a sincere effort to form a connection with him.

“Alright, everyone,” Isaac announced, clapping his hands twice. “It is time for church. I hope your singing voices are ready.” He chuckled to himself while gesturing for his family and guests to exit the house.

---

So perhaps Janna's idea of making Maggie believe that she and Max are interested in each other is back firing ;) I've got a brilliant piece of dialogue planned for Maggie and Janna in a few chapters and I can't wait to write it :D Janna's gonna get a little exasperated .... hehehe.

I was doing some research today on Asperger syndrome because I'm thinking of writing a story with a character afflicted with it and I was talking to my mum about it (she works with kids with autism in mainstream schools, helping them to integrate into classrooms and to make sure they keep up with their school work etc) and she tells me a friend of hers went to an Asperger's conference and when she was telling my mum about all the signs and symptoms, she was going "That's Laura, that's Laura, that's Laura." Mum's always thought I'm on the autism spectrum as I'm socially awkward and unaware (I'm like Sheldon Cooper when it comes to detecting sarcasm, I honestly don't know when someone is being sarcastic with me), holding someone's eye for very long makes me incredibly uncomfortable and I have OCD. She also learned that incredible physical clumsiness is a sign too. Whoops :P But I found out where the OCD came from today. It's genetic. Mum made me scrub my window frame today and I did a good job but she came along behind me and did it again obsessively. She's like that with everything. She'll even re-load the dishwasher after I've loaded it because it's not how she wants it. Either way the dishes are clean! 

I seriously don't think I'm the craziest in my family anymore lol. 

But congrats to Dyson Heppell who polled 14 votes at the Brownlow last night! Next year mate! You're destined to win it. The Brownlow medal is a medal awared to the best and fairest player in the Aussie football league each season. Heppell is a star of my team and is the future captain, I'd bet. He also has the coolest hair in the AFL. My brother is doing his hair just like it :P I'll put a video up on the side. I know most of you by know realise that football is my religion :P Where I live, you don't fit in if you don't follow a team lol. Football is a massive part of our culture :)

Anyways, vote and comment!!!