First checking Darcy’s sleep again, Elizabeth reached for her reticule. She’d awakened this morning to find another of Darcy’s letters beside her pillow. With the Josephs in the room, she had had no opportunity to read her husband’s words, and had quickly stuffed the missive into her bag. Now, Elizabeth removed it and broke the wax seal. Unfolding it, she adjusted her seat so she could use the afternoon’s sunlight streaming through the coach’s window. With a deep, contented sigh, she began to read.

As they often did when she read his letters, her tears returned, but they were happy tears. By some miracle, she had earned this man’s love and devotion. Instinctively, her fingers lightly massaged her stomach’s swell. Darcy’s child grew within her, and she could think of nothing as precious as the possibilities. She’d soon hold their child. No longer did she doubt that fact.

Noting Darcy’s stirring, Elizabeth quickly dashed away her tears and returned the letter to her bag. It would join the others in her portmanteau to be savored in private moments over and over again.

“Did you sleep?” Darcy asked as he righted his clothing.

“Not yet. I’m too excited about returning home — returning to Pemberley.When shall we arrive?”

Darcy glanced out the coach’s window at the melting landscape. “With no obstacles, midafternoon tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow is Christmas Eve. Do you suppose that Georgiana has hung the holly and has addressed the decorations for the Tenants’ Ball?”

Darcy’s eyes flashed in amusement. “You’ve tutored my sister, and she’ll perform to your expectations; but even if Georgiana were not to address her duties, Mrs. Reynolds would see to the task.”

“I forget how dispensable I am as Pemberley’s mistress,” Elizabeth said wryly.

“Your value lies not in the day-to-day running of the estate, Elizabeth. I could hire someone to do that.You’re Pemberley’s heart and soul — as was my mother.”

Tears misted her eyes — watering pot, again, she thought. Darcy had given her the ultimate compliment: He’d compared her influence on Pemberley to that of Lady Anne Darcy. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam,” she murmured. She focused on the changes in Darcy’s countenance from the expression of concern to that of love. “Then we’ll arrive in time for services.”

“Yes, Sweetheart. In plenty of time, as long as you’re not too tired.”

“As Pemberley’s mistress, I must appear at church. People would judge the Darcy name poorly if I shirked my duties.”

Darcy raised an eyebrow. “Your resolve is admirable, but you’ll make your health a priority,” he ordered.

“Yes, Mr. Darcy,” she said contritely. Elizabeth knew she’d attend the services despite what her husband had just said, and her husband knew that as well. They wouldn’t fight over it. It would just happen. Darcy would grumble, especially if Elizabeth appeared travel worn, but he’d allow her to attend Mr. Winkler’s Christmas services. During Mrs. Joseph’s delivery, Elizabeth had thought long and hard on what Mary Joseph had called “Fate.” Elizabeth had never considered the role of fate and prayer. She believed in God’s existence, but not His hand in her daily life.Yet, Mary, a clergyman’s wife, seemed so assured of God’s choices. “Have you thought of God’s role in our earlier losses, Fitzwilliam?” she said softly.

Darcy shifted uncomfortably on the bench seat. “We’ve never spoken of our personal beliefs, have we? I mean, of our thoughts about God’s presence.”

“I don’t know how I can think on it,” Elizabeth admitted. “How can I consider that God in His infinite wisdom chose for us to remain childless? If so, then that means we have been unworthy in His estimation, and as I know your goodness, my husband, it must be I who’s been unworthy.”

“Oh, Elizabeth, do not speak as such. God will see us as parents in due time.”

His voice’s emptiness didn’t escape Elizabeth’s notice. “I want to hear Mr. Winkler’s sermon on the Christ child’s birth. It’s important to me, Fitzwilliam. It’s important to witness God’s hand at work.”



“Were you able to find what you needed in the attic trunk?” Georgiana asked Kitty as they gathered in the foyer. Everyone had donned winter wear.

“I did. Thank you for your generosity.”

“What did you seek, Kitten?” Mr. Bennet asked from beside his daughter.

Kitty’s expression foretold her pleasure in sharing. “Something special for the Foxmour family.”

Mr. Winkler joined them. “What of the Foxmours?”

Georgiana noted the man’s new possessiveness with Kitty. “A simple day dress — one discarded after my time at Ramsgate.”

Mr. Bennet’s eyebrow rose in curiosity. “Surely Miss Darcy’s dress has nothing to do with her brother’s tenant.”

Kitty blushed, but she said, “The Foxmour children drew the perfect dress for their grandmother. I took one of Miss Darcy’s former dresses and with Hannah’s and Meg’s help, I added lace and a bit of embroidery. Then I had Thomas deliver it to the Foxmours. I thought the lady could wear it for all eternity.”

“Miss Catherine, that is all kindness, but the Foxmours aren’t used to such finery,” Winkler warned.

“Thorne, please trust me,” Kitty whispered. To her father, she said, “I chose a plain dark blue day dress — one from Miss Darcy’s schoolroom days. I cut away the beads and trim and added bits of lace to the neckline and cuffs. It’s no longer a dress a fine lady might wear. It is one in which a household’s matriarch might meet God.”

Mr. Bennet squeezed Kitty’s hand. “You were always most clever with a needle. I am certain that you’ve done the Foxmours a great honor.”

“I just wanted Nell and Mavis and Tavia to see their creation come to life. Life, even in Death.” She turned again to Winkler, needing his approval. “Was I so wrong?”

His countenance softened immediately. “No. No, you were the most generous of God’s creatures in this matter.”

“Now that that’s settled,” Georgiana observed, “we should join the others at the pond.”


“Am I forgiven?” Kitty whispered as she accepted Winkler’s arm.

“There’s nothing to forgive, my dear. A man of God couldn’t find fault with a compassionate soul, and as I’m inclined to favor you above all others, I am content simply to have you at my side.”

“Please don’t placate me, Thorne. I must understand where the objection lies. I only wanted to make the girls happy,” she puzzled.

Winkler cupped her hand with his free one. “You will,” he said softly. After a brief pause, he added, “It’s a fine balance a person must walk. One cannot simply rush in to save the world. Instead, a man must extend his hand while not stealing another man’s dignity in the same instance.”

“Did I steal Mr. Foxmour’s worth?” she asked in concern.

Winkler smiled lovingly. “Absolutely not. You gave from the heart.You’re exactly the type of person this community needs — the type of person I need, Catherine.” He allowed the others to outdistance them. “If I were to offer a caution, it would be to remind you that you cannot place one of Mr. Darcy’s cottagers above the others without causing your brother in marriage additional difficulties. Mr. Darcy often must settle disputes between his tenants. If he would rule with Foxmour over another, it would seem that he did so to please his wife’s sister.”

“But Mr. Darcy would never do anything so dishonorable,” Kitty protested.

“I agree, but when a man loses a contested dispute, he often blames others for his failure,” Winkler countered.