Winters in Derbyshire tended to be harsher and longer than in Hertfordshire. In the days immediately following the ball, the weather turned threatening: ominous clouds gathered and persisted unabated for weeks, occasionally disbursing sheets of rain or snow. Those brief episodes when the sky cleared were grabbed expeditiously. After the Masque, life in the region settled into a protracted period of waiting. For the younger and more society-craving citizens, it was an agony of boring days and nights passed in impatient endurance until the spring thaw permitted the mass exodus to London.

For Lizzy, it was the most blissful period of her life. She had her moments of restlessness when the need to stretch her legs overwhelmed her until she would brave the cold and her husband’s frown for an extended turn about the frozen gardens. Otherwise, she found that each day brought new wonders, numerous activities both at Pemberley and with her new friends, family time, duties and lessons to learn as Mistress, and always overshadowing it all, the love for Darcy that grew daily.

Until the ninth of January, Lizzy devoted every possible minute to close communion with her aunt and uncle. Darcy and Mr. Lathrop also sensed the need to strengthen their friendship. Lizzy and Amelia became confidantes, a development that greatly pleased the gentlemen. Amelia revealed to Lizzy and Violet that she had recently confirmed she was with child. The two women were ecstatic for her, Lizzy plying her with questions and Violet offering words of wisdom. Tentative plans were laid to meet in Town during the coming May, if Amelia’s pregnancy allowed.

On the evening of the eighth, the day before their guests were to depart, the Darcys hosted the dinner party that Darcy had impulsively arranged during the Masque. Along with the Lathrops and the Gardiners, there were Gerald and Harriet Vernor, George and Alison Fitzherbert, Rory and Julia Sitwell, Clifton and Chloe Drury, and Albert and Marilyn Hughes.

Gerald Vernor and Albert Hughes were the two closest friends, dating from Darcy’s youth. These three, along with Richard Fitzwilliam and George Wickham, had been nearly inseparable when young. Darcy and Hughes were avid billiards players and, by the tender age of seventeen, had so mastered the game that no one in all of Derbyshire could supplant them as the county’s champions. Darcy, Vernor, and the future Col. Fitzwilliam had in common a passion for horses. Wickham was younger than the other boys and had shadowed them more than anything, although they had honestly considered him a friend until he went wild as a young man at University.

Rory Sitwell had become acquainted with Darcy at Cambridge. Neither man had met the other before, so it was a pleasant coincidence to establish a mutual friendship with someone from home. Sitwell’s personality was similar to Darcy’s and Lathrop’s: reserved, taciturn, serious, dry witted, and aloof. Vernor, Hughes, and Col. Fitzwilliam inclined toward affability, jocularity, and gaiety. They were an odd group by all outward appearances, but like Darcy and Bingley, their opposite natures blended. Among the many traits the men did have in common were moral uprightness and fierce loyalty to their families and community.

George Fitzherbert and Clifton Drury were well into their late thirties and, although Darcy knew them from town, they were not close friends. Normally Darcy would not have been disposed to invite them to dine at Pemberley; however, Lizzy’s positive impression of their wives had pleased Darcy, so he had happily included them.

Aside from the apparently confirmed bachelorhood of Col. Fitzwilliam, Darcy was the last to find happiness as a wedded man, an event that may have caused dismay with the young women of Derbyshire but pleased his friends immensely. The natural gulf that had appeared between them at Darcy’s persistent single status while they were married and beginning their families had spawned a faint distress, not that any of them would have acknowledged it.

All of Darcy’s compatriots had chosen their wives based on affection to one degree or another. None of them was as wealthy as Darcy nor had his responsibilities, yet they too had felt the pressure to marry wisely within the strict dictates of society, and all of them had done so. Therefore, the shock at Darcy, of all people, breaking the mores as he had in marrying Elizabeth Bennet had staggered them.

Gentlemen may not tend to gossip to the extent that women purportedly do, although this allegation could well be a misrepresentation; however, these men had shared many a baffled conversation regarding their friend’s decision. Now, having been introduced to the new Mrs. Darcy, noting her beauty and grace and decorousness, and observing Darcy’s clear infatuation and joy, their relief and comprehension improved.

The dinner was a success. With the assistance of Mrs. Reynolds, Lizzy planned a perfect evening. Georgiana had begged to absent herself from the party, an understandable request, and since Mrs. Annesley had returned from her holiday with her family, Georgiana dined with her companion in her chambers. Lizzy had met Mr. and Mrs. Hughes briefly at the Masque. Marilyn Hughes was currently six months into her first pregnancy and had not felt well at the Ball, prompting an early departure. Fortunately, she felt well enough to attend the Darcy dinner party, and Lizzy found her delightful.

Lizzy entertained the ladies in her parlor after dinner and they all bonded easily. Aunt Gardiner, far older than all the rest and, therefore, with little in common with them, happily sat silently in joy at seeing her niece make new friends. She well remembered how difficult it had been for her to leave her family and intimates as a young bride. Love for one’s husband was of the utmost importance, yet female companionship was also essential.

In addition, Violet knew that Lizzy would eventually reach a point where her separation from Jane would overwhelm her. Having other young ladies nearby with whom she felt an affinity to comfort her and fill that void was indispensable. She was correct in her assessment. Over the course of time, these women would form deep alliances, sustain and succor each other, offer advice and wisdom, and raise the next generation of Derbyshire citizens to carry on the tradition of friendship and community.

Lizzy shed several tears over the departure of her aunt and uncle and the Lathrops, but she was comforted first in the knowledge that they would see each other in a few months and then again in Darcy’s arms. Lizzy had insisted that, except for the remains of the Yule log, which by tradition had to be packed away on Twelfth Day, all the other decorations stay up until after the guests departed.

Therefore, no sooner had quiet descended on the manor and Georgiana retreated to her pianoforte than Elizabeth purposefully grasped her husband’s hand and fulfilled her vow by leading him to each hanging mistletoe globe for a kiss. They managed to keep all proper and chaste until the third floor. By the time they reached the last ball dangling just outside their sitting room door, the twenty-fourth not counting the Darcy kissing bough, the individual kisses had evolved into a ceaseless passionate one that persisted well into the bedchamber and beyond.

They spent the entire day in their chambers together, both desperately needing the time together after the crush of visitors over the past fortnight. Darcy was amply content to embrace settling into the long winter at Pemberley without too many social or business pressures. The occasional dinner party or hunt or dance or afternoon at billiards would be interspersed with the necessary forays to the mills or stables or tenant farms, but winter in Derbyshire effectively cast a stasis over all occupations.

In the past, Darcy had heartily succumbed to the season for the afforded joy of hours spent reading in the library, long rides, catching up on delayed projects, and blessed solitude. This year he would have all that with the added favor of sharing it with his wife, not to mention the pleasure of lazy hours in their bedroom.

Despite his newfound delight in showing off his wife at social events, Darcy was primarily a creature craving privacy. His shyness and natural tendency toward reserve would always be a part of his character, no matter the emancipation of his soul. Lizzy, although not the slightest bit shy or reticent, did cherish peace and quiet and solitary pursuits. The young lovers discovered that they were strikingly akin in more ways than they had imagined.

Darcy truly thought his wife would be fit to rip her hair out after a month of forced imprisonment inside Pemberley’s vast, echoing corridors, and Lizzy honestly thought he would tire of her constant presence in his sanctuaries. They were both astoundingly in error. By the time the spring thaw came, necessitating Darcy’s increased excursions to the farms and Lizzy’s spurred enthusiasm for outdoor activities, they would be so devoted and enslaved to each other that the separations would be agony. Yet for now, they settled in to the peace and leisure of the winter with relish.

“Fitzwilliam, I have a request.”