For once the children were not in a frenzy to open their presents. Rather, the exuberance was centered on the tree. Footmen hauled dozens of boxes and trays into the room, setting the precious ornaments onto waiting tables. The women took charge, doling out the decorations to the children in an age appropriate manner and assisting in the hanging. The men supported the ladders needed to reach the higher branches and assumed the responsibility of wisely placing the tiny candles that would be lit that evening. It was a production to be sure, but one filled with merriment. Background music was provided by those talented with instruments and singing. Snacks and drinks were replenished steadily, and gradually the tagged gifts were distributed and opened. Surprisingly there were no mishaps beyond a few broken cookie ornaments.

The only interruption to the flow was the delivery of an enormous painting. The family gathered close and everything halted when Darcy opened the crating and the masterpiece was unveiled.

The nearly five-foot square canvas, painted in brilliant colors, showed the front façade of Pemberley with Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth standing regally on the topmost step of the columned portico. They were turned slightly sideways with Elizabeth in front of her husband in a semi-embrace. Alexander, equally noble and the image of his sire except for his coiled brown curls, was positioned one step below with Fiona by his side, her flaming red hair tumbling over one shoulder. Michael, dark and brawny, stood with one arm flung over raven-haired Noella’s shoulders, their devilish grins identical. The younger Darcy siblings were spaced evenly in between.

The painter had resided all summer at Pemberley, dwelling with the Darcys in order to properly capture their personalities on canvas. The result was amazingly accurate and awe-inspiring.

Lizzy slipped away from the boisterous crowd some minutes after Darcy excused himself to ensure the painting’s safe delivery to his office. She quietly opened the door to discover him gazing at the framed canvas propped on a sofa. He did not turn from his serene contemplation of their family, but she knew he was aware of her entry—they always sensed the presence of the other—and sidled up to him, arms naturally embracing.

“I plan to hang it there,” he nodded toward the wall above the settee. “As much as I love Gainsborough’s landscape, I would prefer to have you and our children watching over me as I work. Someday it can join the others in the Portrait Gallery, but not yet.”

“I concur. We look wonderful here. It is an amazing portrait, arriving at a perfect time.”

“How true. It induced me to reflect on Christmases past. All of them have been wonderful since you came into my life.” He looked at her then, blue eyes tender and inundated with love.

“All of them?” she repeated, memories flashing through her mind and her tone only partially teasing, but her eyes were full of the same deep love when they locked with his.

“Even those Christmases that were sad or difficult were special, my heart. My life is complete since we married and I would change nothing. This Christmas is the most recent in a very long line of incredible memories.”

“It is not over yet!” She reminded him, both of them laughing as they returned their gazes to the painting.

Silently, in sweet harmony, they admired the canvas testimonial to what they, through God’s grace, had achieved in the long years of their marriage. They studied the painted images, each beloved beyond measure. The portraitist had easily identified the individual characteristics, capturing them brilliantly. Especially manifest was the love, unswerving commitment, and supreme happiness verily shining from their faces as proud parents to the next generation of Darcys.

She broke the quiet contemplation, tugging gently on his waist. “Come, love. Our family awaits and I have a special present for you.”

“I thought we were finished exchanging gifts this year.”

“It is something special I have held in reserve.”

“Secrets?”

“Of course! It is Christmas after all!”

With laughter and a final glance at the mute and fixed images, they exited the parlor to rejoin the animated reality.

The party had continued unabated, none even noting their absence. Lizzy squeezed his laced fingers, steering him toward the tree and the table where a handful of ornaments yet waited to be hung. She reached into a segregated box, unwrapping the tissue paper from a thin, narrow object, and handed it to her spouse.

“I saved this one for you to place,” she said softly, her eyes shining.

Darcy stared at the bookmark in his hand, swallowing past the lump in his throat as more memories washed over him: Elizabeth Bennet, his then betrothed, surprising him with a party on the occasion of his twenty-ninth birthday and gifting him with this bookmark, embroidered and sewn by her hand, tucked into a first edition copy of Milton’s Paradise Lost. Both were among his most cherished possessions. The bookmark maintained the placement in hundreds of books for some ten years, then was relegated to his bedside Bible for several more years, until he had finally been forced to store it in one of his many memento boxes before the frayed cloth disintegrated completely. Now here it was, restored with the embroidered silk sewn onto a new backing and edged with lace that looped, for hanging onto the tree’s branch. The meticulous stitches from so long ago were freshly reinforced, Lizzy’s delicate hand spelling out their names inside linked hearts with a scripture from Genesis scripted above: The two shall become one flesh.

He brushed his knuckles over her cheek. “And so we have, my heart.” He placed the bookmark onto a prominent front branch at eye level, turning back to his wife.

“Merry Christmas, Fitzwilliam.”

“Merry Christmas, Elizabeth.” And the kiss he gave her went on long after everyone in the room began clapping and cheering.

The End

About The Authors

Amanda Grange was born in Yorkshire, England, a few miles away from the town of Bingley. She spent her teenage years reading Jane Austen and Georgette Heyer while also finding time to study music at Nottingham University. She has had sixteen novels published, including five Jane Austen retellings and Mr Darcy, Vampyre. Austenblog called Mr Darcy’s Diary, “a treat”; The Historical Novels Review made Captain Wentworth’s Diary an Editor’s Choice, remarking, “Amanda Grange has taken on the challenge of reworking a much loved romance and succeeds brilliantly”; Austenprose said of Colonel Brandon’s Diary, “Amanda Grange has actually succeeded in improving upon Austen’s character Colonel Brandon”; and her paranormal sequel to Pride and Prejudice, Mr Darcy, Vampyre, was nominated for the Jane Austen Awards. Amanda Grange lives in Cheshire, England.

Sharon Lathan is the author of the bestselling Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy: Two Shall Become One and Loving Mr. Darcy: Journeys Beyond Pemberley. In addition to her writing, she works as a registered nurse in a neonatal ICU. She resides with her family in Hanford, California. For more information about Sharon, the Regency Era, and her bestselling Darcy Saga series, visit her website/blog at: www.sharonlathan.net or www.darcysaga.net. She also invites everyone to join her and the other Sourcebooks romance novelists at: www.casablancaauthors.blogspot.com

Carolyn Eberhart is a debut author and is a member of RWA. She lives in Charlottesville, Virginia.