Thawed Hearts

Chapter 9

The day of the ball saw the weather so bleak and blustery that even the soundest of imaginations could scarcely wonder if it would ever be clear again. Snowy conditions all across the area have shown no signs of stopping, along with ice on the rivers, lakes, and windowsills where everything ushers in the cold. There was a sense of unbearable gloom around Somerset--- the kind of gloom that makes one melancholy even though there's nothing to be sad for. It's poetic, really, especially at Christmas. But despite the miserable weather, the Seymour household was in great spirits.

Wolf Hall was full of merrymaking, and the servants were scurrying about like mice putting together the final event and Yuletide details. The crisp cold air appeared to laugh along with them. It was lively, especially in the kitchen, where the feast was prepared with expert hands and thoughtful consideration. There's nothing better than food, cheer, and song; the kitchen staff had all three at their disposal, humming as they worked.

And elsewhere, the Duchess was readying the Christmas baskets for the Abbey. With Yule only three days away, Mary wanted to get the treats into Sister Clara's (the head Prioress) capable hands for distribution. As soon as the final festive bow was tied, the servants loaded each abundant and ample container onto a cart, covering them with old blankets to protect them from the elements.

The Duchess's carriage and cart were whisked away from the manor's door when the last basket was packed as speedy as a flash of lightning. Since there was a break in the weather, Mary figured now would be the only time suitable to venture out. It was only herself going since she needed the ladies to stay behind for last-minute ball arrangements. Edward didn't know this because if he did, she could imagine his face and the displeasure it would hold. But what he doesn't won't hurt him, at least that's what she told herself.

The Duchess could hardly contain the day's excitement, dressed in an icy green embroidered gown that appeared to embody the season and the chill. Her hands fiddled with the fraying ends of a blanket thrown over her legs, but Mary's mind kept going over the basket list to tell Sister Clara. The ride took longer than usual, which was fine because it allowed the Duchess more time to review the basket information. What would typically take a half mile in the carriage turned into a full two because of the weather. But not even a thing like heavenly elements can stop charity and goodwill.

The Prioress and nuns made haste to greet their special guest when the carriage pulled to a complete stop in front of the Abbey. Sister Clara and Mary took tea in the head office as the baskets were unloaded. It was then the Duchess shared the information about all the items that were gathered to fill each hand-woven container. You see, it's one thing to receive a basket as a gift, but it's another to receive a hand-made one, especially if an artisan in the region makes it.

That prompted the two ladies to discuss the Somerset region's learning and the local economy. Both agree that more artisans like the basket maker should be discovered and promoted across the area and maybe even the kingdom through craft and trade guilds. By the end of their tea, they had decided to meet again to discuss forming a lady's auxiliary group to help oversee women's and children's care and a crafter's guide.

Sister Clara thanked the Duchess for her time and consideration. "We are most grateful for the Yule baskets. You have no idea how much this will mean to those families suffering from want during the season."

The Prioress saw her companion to the carriage, where the driver helped Mary inside. When the Duchess returned to the confines of the vehicle, her heart felt full. It's not how much a person gives, but the love they put into it, and Her Grace has placed a lot of care into the Yule baskets carrying on her mother's tradition. As she stared out the window with the Abbey following behind, her smile was as glistening as the icicles hanging from the outside. Nothing could dampen the joyful mood except getting stuck in the soggy, boggy snow.