Carolyn Eberhart - A Darcy Christmas

A quick flash of those memories he experienced the night before came to mind. “Many retrospections are so totally void of reproach that only contentment arises from them. The moment you agreed to marry me I will always treasure. However, painful recollections will intrude, which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. They can teach one a lesson, hard indeed at first to learn, but really most advantageous.”

“You are becoming quite philosophical, Mr. Darcy.”

“So formal, Miss Bennet? I would wish that you would call me by my given name.”

“Fitzwilliam, then,” Elizabeth said before continuing on their walk. “I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me when we met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?”

“No, indeed, I felt nothing but surprise.”

“Your surprise could not be greater than mine in being noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect to receive more than my due.”

“My object then,” replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you.”

He then told her of Georgiana’s delight in her acquaintance: “I know she will be quite happy to learn that you are to be her new sister. She was quite disappointed not to further the acquaintance last summer.”

“If Lydia had not eloped,” she began, “this happy day may have come about much sooner. I wish to tell you how grateful I am, again, at your intervention in the matter.”

“I thought only of you,” Darcy told her. “Before I quit the inn, I had resolved on quitting Derbyshire in a quest for your sister. Your distress I could not bear, and as I believed it to be within my power to relieve it, I set about doing so.”

This is what love truly is, Elizabeth thought, her heart thumping joyfully. She gave him a wistful smile. “I was sure that I would never see you again. The moment that you walked out the door of that inn, I knew I loved you, and I felt it would all come to naught. Now such a painful subject need not be dwelt upon further.

“So, what persuaded you to renew your addresses now? Was it the vision you spoke of earlier? It must have been a very convincing one. Do tell me about it.”

“Someday perhaps. It is a rather long and somewhat fanciful tale, too much to relate just now. The afternoon sky has darkened and I can see a servant has been sent out to search for us. I will say that the vision served to reinforce the wishes and desires I already possessed and gave me the courage to pursue them.”

They headed back to Bingley’s house. Elizabeth entered before Darcy did. Alone in the garden he spoke aloud, “Thank you, Father and all the Spirits. I appreciate what you did for me and I will remember it always. I will do my best to see that Elizabeth is happy, for in her happiness is mine. I shall be worthy of the gift you have given me.”

As Darcy entered, he saw that Elizabeth was standing under a ball of mistletoe, brightly trimmed with evergreens, ribbons, and ornaments. And his eyes lit up.

“Elizabeth, do you realize where you are standing?”

Elizabeth looked up for a moment. “Certainly, I have very good eyesight.”

So Darcy gathered Elizabeth in his arms and used the kissing bough for it proper purpose. So engrossed were they in the activity, neither heard the approaching footsteps.

“Elizabeth Bennet!” cried her shocked mother.

“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed the equally shocked Miss Bingley.

“At last,” Bingley said as he winked at his wife, who smiled happily in return.

“Look at Grandmama and Grandfather under the kissing bough,” cried young Master Timothy Darcy from the top of the stairs.

“It is a long-standing Christmas tradition,” his father, Bennet Darcy, informed him.

“Is everyone here? Will there be dinner soon?” Timothy asked.

Several Bingleys made their way into the hall. “Are we the last to arrive?” asked Jane.

“We are only awaiting the arrival of Uncle Gardiner. Now, Timothy—and is that Belinda and Bettina?—why don’t the three of you run along to the back parlor and visit with your other cousins,” Elizabeth told them.

“Yes, Grandmama, but will he be here soon?” he called out.

“Very soon, my dear, very soon.”

“Do you ever find yourself losing track of who’s who among our minor relations? Lord, there are more of them every year it seems,” declared Charles Bingley.

“Well, you would have a large family,” Darcy reminded him.

“It is not all my fault you know; between our children and grandchildren, the Gardiner progeny and your sister’s offspring, family gatherings can get overpopulated rather quickly.”

They made their way into the parlor where the adult members of the party had gathered. Darcy thought it a good thing that not all the connected relations were able to come. The ballroom would have had to have been opened to accommodate them all for dinner.

Jane and Elizabeth lingered in the hallway, wishing each other a Merry Christmas and exchanging tidbits of family news when the front door opened and Mr. Gardiner entered.

“The most extraordinary thing happened today,” Mr. Gardiner exclaimed as a footman helped him remove his coat. “A most extraordinary thing.”

“And a Merry Christmas to you also, Uncle,” Elizabeth cheerfully greeted them.

“I apologize, my dear,” returned her uncle with a twinkle in his eyes. “The very best of Christmases to you both. You are looking well, very well indeed. And best wishes on your anniversaries. Neither of you look older than when you were brides.”

“You are a flatterer, sir, but my appearance is appropriate for a matron of my years.”

“You cannot be that old, Elizabeth, for that would make me ancient.”

“I regret to inform you that you are indeed ancient”—Elizabeth smiled at him—“and I am glad to have it so. Shall we join the others in the parlor?”

After greetings were exchanged and everyone was made comfortable, Jane asked, “What is the extraordinary thing that happened to you, Uncle?”

“Do you have a story to tell, Uncle?” asked Bingley. “I for one would be delighted to hear it.”

“Part of my tale is already known to Darcy, for he was there at its beginning and can attest, in part, to the truth of my words. Yesterday, our Gentlemen’s Benevolent Society went about asking for donations from various businesses. Darcy and I came upon the most miserly gentleman I have yet to meet. His office was so cold that it was impossible to know inside from out by temperature alone.” The servant offered some wine to Mr. Gardiner. “Thank you. It is just what I needed.”

“Do continue your tale, Uncle, for you have whetted our curiosity,” Jane begged and the others in the room also begged for the tale.

“Well, my dear, Darcy and I went forth to gather funds in the area of town where Mr. Scrooge has his business. ‘Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Marley?’ asked Darcy.

“‘Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years,’ Scrooge replied. ‘He died this very night.’

“Now, a chill went down my spine when I heard this, but whether it was from the lack of warmth in the office or in Scrooge’s tone, I cannot tell, but Darcy carried on, ‘We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner,’ he said.

“Scrooge frowned and shook his head. The cold seemed to freeze his features, nipped his pointed nose, and shriveled his cheek. Frost had settled on his head and on his eyebrows and his wiry chin.”

“Stop teasing, Father,” Alice exclaimed.

“I do not exaggerate,” claimed Uncle Gardiner.

“At least not very much,” Darcy responded dryly. “I explained the purpose of the visit, of gathering funds to provide some slight provisions for the poor and destitute.”

Mr. Gardiner continued, “I swear his eyes turned red, and his lips compressed into a thin blue line. In a grating voice he demanded ‘Are there no prisons? Are the workhouses still in operation? Are the Treadmill and the Poor Law still in full vigor?’

“When we agreed that indeed these institutions were still in operation, he said, ‘I was afraid that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course.’

“I then explained that these places could hardly supply much in the way of a Christmas celebration and asked how much he wished to contribute.

“‘Nothing!’ Scrooge replied.

“‘You wish to be anonymous?’ asked Darcy.

“‘I wish to be left alone,’ said Scrooge. ‘Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don’t make merry myself at Christmas and I can’t afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned—they cost enough; and those who are badly off must go there.’”

“Oh, he sounds a horrid fellow, Father,” exclaimed Alice.

The door to the parlor opened, and a young girl of perhaps six or so came into the room.

“Grandpapa!” she exclaimed and made her way to Mr. Gardiner for a welcoming hug. “Did you know we are to have turkey and stuffing and Christmas pudding? Very soon, I hope.”

“Rebecca, you should be in the back parlor with the rest of the children; the turkey will be in the dining room when it is ready,” her mother scolded.