“The Lathrops,” he whispered, pointing and cautiously sticking his head around the corner. Lizzy peered around his shoulder and stifled a laugh at the sight before her. At the bottom of the stairs, Mr. and Mrs. Lathrop had discovered one of the strategically positioned mistletoe balls and were dutifully obliging the custom.

“What shall we do now?” Lizzy asked her husband with a grin. At roughly the same moment, they looked upward and noted that they too were precisely under another mistletoe ornament.

“How many of these baubles did the maids fabricate, anyway?”

“I believe they were considering all the places the footmen frequent,” Lizzy said with a chuckle.

“Whatever the motivation, it is a ritual with historic dictates that we would be severely remiss to not observe.” Darcy stated firmly, capturing his wife’s mouth equally as firmly in an ardent kiss.

It must have been the day for espying lovers beneath mistletoe, for Col. Fitzwilliam’s chambers were down this very hallway and, with a chuckle, he ducked back into his room and busied himself until he deemed the corridor was clear.

The Pemberley occupants drifted into the breakfast room in spaced interludes throughout the morning, all with smiles on their faces and some with flushed cheeks and downcast eyes. Mrs. Langton and her fine staff had outdone themselves. The morning repast was stupendous with every imaginable type of breakfast cuisine. Mr. Gardiner had readily ascertained, as only a rabid angler can, that Mr. Lathrop shared his penchant for the avocation. Darcy assured them that the trout and other fish well stocked in the lake would happily acquiesce despite the half-frozen water. With obvious zeal, the two men quit the table, not to be seen until late in the afternoon.

The ladies decided a walk was in order. Darcy frowned, noting the persistent gloom and foreboding clouds as well as the slick pathways. He attempted to dissuade them, but Lizzy was insistent.

“We shall take care, Mr. Darcy, I promise. You need not vex yourself,” Lizzy assured him.

“Georgiana,” he turned to his sister, “I will trust you to keep to the safest paths closest to the house.” He glanced at his wife’s faintly scowling visage, pointedly ignoring her and declaring to the group in general in a tone which booked no argument, “Miss Darcy is most familiar with the walkways and knows which are best maintained and level. Please follow her lead.”

Assuring that Georgiana and his wife were properly attired, Darcy pulled Lizzy aside. He buttoned her coat for her as he whispered, “Be careful, love, and return if it begins to snow or rain. Promise me.”

“William, you are being silly,” she began but he cut her off with a piercing look, eyes darkening somewhat, and that small crease of annoyance flashing between his brows.

“Elizabeth Darcy, do not argue with me. Stay with Georgiana.”

“Yes, dear.”

Once outside, Aunt Gardiner turned to her niece with a smile. “Mr. Darcy certainly is protective.”

“Too much so at times, yet it is endearing; irritating but endearing!” They all laughed. Lizzy related their honeymoon luncheon experience and they laughed even harder.

Georgiana spoke then, in her quiet voice, “My brother has always hovered in this manner. I do believe nothing frightens him other than the thought of someone he loves being hurt. He still refuses to allow me to take my horse out without a groom shadowing me even though I have been riding since I was five!”

“I am afraid you are a more tolerant lass than I,” said Mrs. Lathrop, “I confess to being a bit of a rebel. My parents turned gray over my antics. Do you ever defy him, Miss Darcy?”

Georgiana was genuinely shocked. “Never!”

Despite Darcy’s concerns, the ladies had a lovely walk through the snowdusted gardens. Georgiana proved to be an excellent tour guide, pointing out with amazing knowledge the plant and tree varieties. They lingered for a short rest at the water nymph fountain and then Georgiana unerringly ushered them through the hedge maze.

While they rambled, they babbled together serenely. Mrs. Gardiner and Georgiana happily conversed about Lambton and its environs as Violet remembered them from her youth, including her memories of Georgiana’s parents. Lizzy and Mrs. Lathrop established a friendship that would persevere throughout their lives.

“How did you and Mr. Lathrop meet?”

Amelia smiled sweetly. “His family has interest in a sheep farm near Motherwell. My father is a baron of the region, and we were introduced when my father invited Mr. Lathrop to dine with us. It was love at first sight; however, my father required a bit of persuading! He was not too content with the idea of his daughter marrying a Sassenach.” They laughed. “He eventually consented, yet I do not believe he shall be entirely resigned until I have presented him with a grandchild or two.”

“How do you find Leicestershire, compared to Scotland?”

“Have you ever been to Scotland, Mrs. Darcy?”

“No, I have not been so fortunate.”

“It is far colder there. Rainier and very green with heathers and mosses in abundance. I mourn the absence of certain trees and flowers that only grow there. Mostly, though I miss my family. I have two older brothers and three younger sisters. Our house was perpetually loud and raucous. I never imagined I would miss it, but I do.”

“I understand how you feel. I have four sisters and spent much of my time escaping to the solitude and silence of the woods and meadows. Pemberley is beautiful and I love it here, yet it is imposing compared to Longbourn where I grew up, and very quiet. It is pleasant to have people in the house.”

“Even if we are disrupting your honeymoon?” Mrs. Lathrop said with a gentle laugh.

Lizzy blushed prettily. “Merely a brief hiatus, I think. The honeymoon shall continue unabated for a long while, I trust.”

“It is a delight to have made a ‘love match,’ is it not, Mrs. Darcy? I have learned that love often does not enter into the arrangements among the upper classes of England. This was a shock to me as these social considerations are not as important to the Scottish. Mr. Lathrop broke more than a few rules in marrying me, and his father did not approve.”

“I am sorry, Mrs. Lathrop. Was it uncomfortable for you?”

“Initially. My husband, contrary to his gentle demeanor, has a strength and stubbornness of astounding proportions. He tenaciously stayed the course in his devotion to me, and his father eventually capitulated. We established a tenuous peace between us prior to his death.”

“Mr. Lathrop sounds very like Mr. Darcy. Both are tenacious and stubborn. No small wonder they are such good friends.”

They laughed. “They also appear to have similar taste in women, Mrs. Darcy, if I may be so bold as to declare that I think we are quite similar in our temperaments. Outspoken, independent, and with no lack of stubbornness myself, I sense this in you as well.”

Lizzy smiled. “Along with a heavy dose of pride and misjudgment. Flaws that were almost our undoing, yet oddly aided us in coming together.” Lizzy noted Mrs. Lathrop’s quizzical expression and laughed. “It is a long and horrid tale. Perhaps later I shall tell you of it.”

Speaking of her husband and touching on the subject of their convoluted and painful journey toward matrimony brought an ache to Lizzy’s heart that could only be assuaged in his arms. As soon as she returned to the house, she sought him out. She had a vague idea where he would be, and a footman confirmed her suspicion. Upon entering the library her eyes immediately spied him alone and in his favorite chair by the far window, his back to her, and wholly lost in the pages before him. Her heart surged and skipped a beat as she rushed toward him silently on the thick carpet. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders from behind, burying her cold face into his neck. He gasped in surprise and shock from her chilled nose.

“Who is this?” he demanded in mock severity.

“Are there a plethora of women who attack you in the library, Mr. Darcy?” Lizzy began loosening the knots of his cravat, planting cool kisses along his neck.

“No. I must confess this is the first occasion ever.” He closed his eyes and tilted his head to allow her freer access.

“How remiss of me,” she mumbled, “I vowed to kiss you in every room of the manor. I am slipping hideously in my promises. What are you to think of me?”

He chuckled and grasped her hands, pulling her onto his lap. “I will happily aid you in fulfilling your vows, Mrs. Darcy. Lord knows there is probably a mistletoe ball in each room to lend credence to the venture if we are discovered.” He rubbed her rosy cheeks and bussed her icy nose before seizing her mouth in a deep kiss.

He broke away reluctantly, snuggling her close to his body with her head resting on his shoulder. “You all returned safely, I presume?”

“Yes, my dear worrywart of a husband. No one fell or caught their death of cold.” She laughed but he frowned and held her tighter.

“Nothing wrong with being cautious, Elizabeth.”

“Of course not, love, but you must admit you fret excessively on occasion.”

He was silent for a while and then spoke very softly, “I suppose I do worry overly. It is just that… I could not bear to have anything happen to you, Elizabeth, or Georgiana either. It is my responsibility to assure your safety and protection. I fear… failing in some way and losing you.”

She gazed into his eyes and kissed him tenderly. “Forgive me, William. I shall aspire not to try your patience nor cause you anxiety. Nevertheless, you surely realize that you cannot control everything, my dearest. Accidents do happen.”