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Church

London

Christmas

The elderly rector, dressed in his cassock and surplice, looked over the congregation benevolently, turned his attention to the great book on the lectern, and began to speak.

“Almighty God, who hast given us thy only-begotten Son to take our nature upon him, and as at this time to be born of a pure Virgin. Grant that we being regenerate, and made thy children by adoption and grace, may daily be renewed by thy Holy Spirit; through the same our Lord Jesus Christ, who liveth and reigneth with thee and the same Spirit, ever one God, world without end.Amen.”

“Amen,” Elizabeth murmured along with the other congregants.

“From the letter to the Hebrews, from the first chapter:

“God, who at sundry times and in diverse manners spoke in time past unto the fathers by the prophets, hath in these last days spoken unto us by his Son, whom he hath appointed heir of all things…”

Elizabeth let the familiar words wash over her, retelling the old well-known story of the most important birth of all. It was a story she had heard a hundred times, and one she had loved anew each time. But today she was finding it difficult to focus, preoccupied as she was by her own concerns.

She took a moment to admire the church around her, hoping to center herself back on reverent meditations. The cathedral was certainly far grander than the small stone church in Meryton, made with all the love and passion for God that had filled the hearts of the skilled workmen who had designed and built and ornamented it. Carved oak beams fitted into beautiful arches which held up the roof, and the length of the sanctuary was illuminated by light streaming in through windows of vividly colored glass. The annunciation of Gabriel to Mary was picked out in painstaking and glowing detail, along with the birth of Christ in a stable, the twelve-year-old Jesus at the Temple, the wedding at Cana, the many miracles of Jesus, His terrible death and, behind the altar, and His glorious resurrection, with the tomb standing empty and blazing with light.

Mr. Darcy sat beside her in the pew, with Georgiana beyond him. Both were listening soberly, looking remarkably alike in the earnestness of their expressions as they listened to the Christmas service. In front of them, the other Bennet ladies sat in a decorous row, with Mr. Bennet by the aisle with his wife at his other hand, and Jane at the end of her sisters. Next to her, as close as propriety would allow, was Charles Bingley.

Elizabeth returned her focus to the reverend and his sermon. He was a good speaker, which she appreciated. The old familiar beats were a balm to her heart, as she listened again to the recounting of the greatest gift ever given on Earth. The last weeks had been a maelstrom of joy and sorrow, danger and rescue, plans and problems. In this moment, surrounded by fellow worshippers of the most High God, she found her perspective shifting as she was reminded of what was truly important.

God had been kind to her and to her family. She and Jane were now engaged to good men, and her father had made changes to his behavior in ways that Elizabeth had long deemed impossible. Even if Mr. Bennet’s new determination to act as a good father did not last forever, she was grateful.

Here in the service was an example of God using manmade hardship for good; Joseph and Mary traveled to Bethlehem for the census, where Jesus was born and fulfilled prophecy. On a much smaller scale, God had allowed a locked door and the wiles of a wicked man to do unmeasurable good in the lives of the Bennets .

Elizabeth stole another glance at her fiancé. Fitzwilliam was a good man, who truly cared for her, and she found herself overwhelmed by gratitude amidst a vague feeling of disbelief at her fortune. Looking back to the parson, she lifted up a prayer of thanksgiving for God's loving kindness and guidance.

***

Elizabeth’s Bedchamber

Longbourn

Hertfordshire

Wednesday, 8th January, 1812

Elizabeth settled comfortably onto the old window seat, as familiar to her as her own hands, and glanced around the room where she had slept and lived since she had come out of the nursery. It looked different than it usually did, with two trunks sitting by the bedroom door ready to be carried downstairs. Three neat stacks of dresses, bonnets, and a few pieces of jewelry were piled carefully on her bed, prepared to be distributed to Mary, Kitty, and Lydia. Should Elizabeth open the wardrobe door, it would be almost empty.

She had had a busy morning and was slightly tired, but pleasantly so. The past couple of hours had been spent in sorting through all her worldly possessions, choosing what she wanted to keep after her marriage and packing it carefully into the trunks and setting aside the rest to bequeath to her younger sisters. The footmen would be along soon to carry the trunks down to the carriage, which would set out for Darcy House in London that afternoon, with a brief stop by Netherfield Hall.

Elizabeth took a slow breath of excitement. Tomorrow, she would be marrying her beloved Fitzwilliam and leaving the home of her childhood. She and her fiancé had agreed to depart for London the very afternoon of their wedding, right after the wedding breakfast. And what a wedding breakfast it would be! Certainly Meryton would never have seen its like and might never again.

At least, that was Mrs. Bennet's vision for it. The family had only arrived home to Longbourn two evenings previously, and it was doubtful that she would have enough time to execute her vision fully. Mrs. Bennet was not letting the short notice discourage her, however, but had been bustling about since dawn that morning in fine fettle, rapping out orders and keeping the stable boys rushing between Longbourn and Netherfield .

Elizabeth chuckled to herself, wondering what Bingley's cook was making of the frantic missives from Mrs. Bennet. Doubtless, the woman had her own ideas for the wedding breakfast and how best to honor her new mistress. To Elizabeth herself it all mattered but little, as she was wholly focused on the upcoming wedding that would join her forever to Fitzwilliam in the sight of God and man. Mrs. Bennet was thrilled at the thought of new silk dresses and beautiful hats and an elaborate wedding breakfast, but Elizabeth would be content with a small meal of sandwiches and water with the man she loved. However, given that Mrs. Bennet had been dreaming of her daughter's wedding day for twenty years and was giddy with delight at having a double wedding breakfast to plan, Elizabeth had no intention of denying her mother the joy of a lavish feast after the ceremony.

She looked around her room again. As eagerly as she anticipated her marriage and impending move, it felt odd to think that she had only one more night to spend here. Two months ago, she would never have dreamed that her life would take such a strange turn. Had it really only been six weeks since she had found herself locked in a library with a man she despised, whence she had fled to escape her family's embarrassment? What a catalyst that night had been! It seemed she had been living in a whirlwind ever since, with the burgeoning scandal and Mr. Darcy's proposal and her own horrified refusal, his offered courtship and his kindness and the move to London, getting to know him and his family, followed by Wickham's terrifying attempt to abduct her. It truly was fantastic.

Thinking of Wickham's attack had reminded Elizabeth of something, and she stood and crossed the room, peeking into the mirror on her dresser. A minute examination of her own reflection revealed her face glowing with happiness and perfectly returned to normal, with no remaining hint of bruise or swelling around her eye.

A thump on the wall startled her, and then she smiled. Jane, in the room next door, was also packing her trunks for the much shorter trip to Netherfield. Bingley was not yet certain if he would renew his lease, but at least for the winter, he and his new bride would stay at their rented estate.

The door opened, and she turned and smiled at the sight of her friend Charlotte Lucas.

“Charlotte, my dear!” she exclaimed. “How wonderful to see you!”

Charlotte hurried forward to embrace her friend and said, “It is so good to see you as well, Elizabeth. I am very glad you returned before my wedding.”

“I am glad as well, though I must warn you that I will be returning to London on the evening of the wedding, so I will regrettably not be able to attend your own ceremony.”

Charlotte lifted an eyebrow, looked around the room, and said, “So you are marrying Mr. Darcy, then? There are rumors flying around Meryton that a grand breakfast is being prepared. Based on your statement of only a few weeks ago, I am surprised.”

Elizabeth blushed and gestured toward two chairs by the fire. “Do sit down, please.”

Charlotte obeyed, and Elizabeth threw another piece of wood and stirred the fire so that it flamed up. It was a cold day outside, and now that she was not bustling about the room packing, she felt chilly.

“I am marrying Fitzwilliam,” she said as she lowered herself onto a seat across from her friend, “and I could not be happier. I have come to realize that he is the best man in all the world for me.”

Her friend chuckled and said, “I could have told you that, my dear. He is handsome, intelligent, and very rich. But I know that you are a romantic, and thus assume you are falling in love with him?”

“I have fallen in love with him,” Elizabeth said, her eyes glowing. “I know that sounds incredible given that only six weeks ago, I despised him, but he is amiable, and kind, and brave, and oh, Charlotte, I am happier than I had ever imagined I could be. ”

It this moment, the oily, plump face of Mr. Collins rose in her mind’s eye, and she felt a sudden, intense surge of embarrassed pity toward her friend. It was painful that Charlotte would soon be wed to that buffoon, but she had chosen her lot in life, and it would be unkind to offer pity or reproof.

“I am very pleased for you, Eliza,” Charlotte said with a calm expression. “I confess that I came here partly to congratulate you, and partly because I wonder whether you know what is happening at Rosings. Mr. Collins has written me several times and is growing increasingly distressed at Lady Catherine’s disappearance from the estate. I wondered if Mr. Darcy has mentioned anything about the situation at Rosings.”

Elizabeth winced and said, “Oh, oh yes. I, erm, yes, I do apologize. I did not even think about Rosings and you and Mr. Collins. My cousin must be distressed indeed.”

She hesitated, thinking quickly, and then said carefully, “The truth is that Miss de Bourgh, who is currently staying at Netherfield Hall and will be attending our wedding, became the rightful owner of Rosings in November when she turned five and twenty. Lady Catherine will be spending a few months at one of her brother’s smaller estates in Bedfordshire while Miss de Bourgh takes control of the estate, although I do not know when exactly she plans to return, as she mentioned having business in Town.”

Charlotte was a clever lady, and Elizabeth, noting the gleam in her eyes, waited for insightful questions.

“That is very wise,” Charlotte said. “I daresay it would be difficult for the servants to take Miss de Bourgh’s orders if Lady Catherine was still in residence.”

“Exactly,” Elizabeth said sedately. Charlotte almost certainly suspected that there was more to the story, but she had decided that she did not need to know additional details, and Elizabeth was grateful.

“What is Miss de Bourgh like?” Charlotte continued.

“I like her very much. Mr. Collins, I know, mentioned that she is sickly, but in the last years her health has improved substantially. She will be attending the breakfast here at Longbourn as well, and I will introduce her to you if you like.”

“I would like that very much,” Charlotte said. “I am not sure if you are aware of this, but William is journeying here tomorrow and will be staying at Lucas Lodge. Am I permitted to tell him about the change in ownership of Rosings? ”

“Yes, of course. I suspect he will be somewhat disturbed, but I am confident that Miss de Bourgh will prove an excellent mistress of the estate.”

“I am glad to hear that,” Charlotte said.