Page 18 of Body and Soul (Darcy and Elizabeth Variations #8)

Chapter Eighteen

December 25, 1811 Longbourn Elizabeth

C hristmas morning dawned. A blanket of brilliant snow had fallen while they slept, covering everything in glistening white. Elizabeth loved the snow. It was magical somehow. Ice crystals made the pristine landscape glisten, draping everything in what seemed like precious gems. The view from her window showed it had yet to be marred with footprints or marks from carriage wheels.

Elizabeth always looked forward to Christmas. Everyone was at their very best and abounding with good cheer. Even Lydia seemed less petulant during the season, and she hoped her younger sister would be able to join them for the festivities. She had spent her time well in the nursery the last few days, and she seemed to have grudgingly accepted that things would not revert to their state before the Netherfield Ball.

Miss Holt taught both Kitty and Lydia deportment every day. Kitty took to the lessons with ease, but Lydia questioned everything. Her protestations and inquiries would have tried the patience of a saint, yet the governess handled it all with nary a cross look. Her skills handling wild young ladies had not been exaggerated. Elizabeth liked her very much and hoped they could employ her for many years, perhaps until Lydia was married.

Breakfast was a simple fare that day. Mr. Bingley planned to join them with his aunt. He wished to spend the entire day with his betrothed, or so he said, and since he did not have his sisters there to disapprove, he declared to one and all that he could do as he pleased. He arrived with his aunt and Mr. Bennet in tow, around nine o’clock in the morning.

The atmosphere around the table was merry and bright. Elizabeth wished she could sit next to Mr. Darcy, who sat at the head of the table in her father’s place. Instead, she sat in the mistress’s spot, facing him. They exchanged long looks filled with emotion across the table. Strangely, she did not see her father when she looked at him anymore. She saw the man she loved, Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pemberley, in Derbyshire. It was as though he could not help carrying himself with more purpose and authority, despite the much older body he now possessed.

Elizabeth hoped they would be returned to themselves soon. Given the progress exhibited by her parents, she had faith that it could not be much longer. But what if I am mistaken? she often thought to herself. What if we have misjudged the situation entirely? She could not dwell on that, though, or she would go mad.

Her confidence that Mama and Papa would keep the changes they had implemented grew with each passing hour. That pair seemed pleased to have the responsibilities around Longbourn handled on their behalf. Mr. Bennet assisted Darcy with his business, but his duties were much less now than they had been for many years. He and Mrs. Bennet seemed pleased to spend all their time in each other’s company.

Elizabeth and Darcy amusedly watched their courtship. Mama blushed often, and Papa continued to try his best to win her regard. “I wonder if what we are witnessing is very like when they first courted,” Elizabeth said to Darcy that afternoon. They stood in the parlor doorway, observing the occupants of the room. Jane and Mr. Bingley, sequestered in a corner, spoke only to each other. Mrs. Bingley had formed a strange bond with Mary, and the pair of them discussed everything from books and music to carriages and carts. Kitty joined them. She still hovered around, uncertain where she belonged now that Lydia spent her time in the nursery.

Mr. and Mrs. Bennet looked very much like young lovers. As Elizabeth and Darcy, they were required to behave as though they were not married, yet they had shared greater intimacies than most unmarried couples could boast. Mr. Bennet often took his wife’s hand, caressing it gently. There was still a little tension, but whatever strides they had made the day before seemed promising.

Their Christmas activities included going to church and then to Haye Park for dinner. Elizabeth would have much rather spent the day at Longbourn, but her mother urged her to accept the invitation.

“It will make things easier for you,” she said wisely. “And it will give our servants a chance to rest for the day.” And so, she would have to dress and endure a chilly carriage ride…and possibly more of Mrs. Goulding’s acidic tongue.

Hence, that afternoon, she searched through her mama’s closet, looking for a suitable holiday gown. She found one Sally had lately dismantled. It was an overdress made of red satin with long sleeves. It fastened in the front with a gold clasp engraved with flowers. The under gown was cream wool with delicate gold embroidery on the skirt. Before refashioning, lace had adorned the neck and sleeves of the undergown, and yards of lace had covered half the satin of the overdress. Elizabeth felt very glad Sally had removed it. The gown looked much better now.

She donned the ensemble and added a simple pearl necklace and earrings. Her maid finished styling her hair and then handed her a reticule and a wrap. “Thank you,” she said kindly. “I do hope you will spend some time doing something enjoyable tonight.”

“Very good, madam,” Sally replied, curtseying.

There was a tap at the door between the rooms, and Elizabeth called for whomever knocked to enter. Darcy stepped in, dressed in one of her father’s red waistcoats, his coat draped over his arm. “You look ravishing,” he said, coming to her and kissing her cheek. Sally giggled from by the closet where she hung up the gown Elizabeth had worn that day. They ignored her, and she kissed him as well.

“I wish we could spend the evening here,” she moaned again. “I would much rather curl up in front of the fire with a book!”

“I understand, my dear, but we have accepted the invitation and therefore must go forth.” He grimaced, not looking any more excited about the prospect of being in company that evening than did Elizabeth.

She clutched at his arm dramatically. “But what if the carriage slips on ice and crashes, Mr. Bennet?” she cried. “What will become of us, then? You will die, and we shall starve in the hedgerows!”

They both chuckled. A few weeks ago, it would not have been nearly as funny, but now Charlotte was engaged to Mr. Collins and Jane to Mr. Bingley. And, of course, Darcy would marry Elizabeth someday. Yes, Mrs. Bennet’s future would be secure, even if, heaven forbid, Mr. Bennet died tomorrow.

Drawing a fortifying breath, she said, “Shall we?” Mr. Darcy offered her his arm, and she took it, squeezing it lightly. “Miss Bingley would be terribly jealous of me right now,” she whispered as they left the room.

“I hardly think she would turn green at the sight of Mr. Bennet escorting his wife to an evening’s entertainment,” he replied lightly.

“Oh? And what if she saw Mr. Darcy speaking sweet nothings into Miss Elizabeth Bennet’s ear?” She smirked. “I assure you that my father has been doing just that. Mama’s blushes and coy looks are enough to tell me that!”

Mr. Darcy chuckled. “Yes, I imagine she would do everything in her power to divert my—that is, Mr. Darcy’s—attention away from that ‘ill-mannered country hoyden.’”

“Did she really call me that?” Elizabeth asked in surprise.

“She said many things. I can hardly recall all of them. She believed by pointing out all your supposed flaws and the negative aspects of forming an alliance with your family that I would be more inclined to abandon you. She was both right and wrong. Every mention of you drew my attention in that direction further. Yet, I could not forget that which I objected to so strenuously. But it was far too late by the time I left Hertfordshire. I already loved you. Indeed, I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.” He affectionately patted the hand looped through his arm.

Elizabeth’s heart leapt with pleasure. “That was a very pretty speech, sir. I pray you do not run out of lovely things to say before it grows time for you to make me an offer of marriage.”

“I promise you, Elizabeth, I shall save the words of my heart for when I offer it to you fully.”

He had hardly used her name since the switch, for it made it very hard to remember what he should call her in company, or so he said. But it pleased her he did so now, and she grinned.

The carriage waited when they came downstairs. They would exchange gifts after returning from Haye Park. The Netherfield party would join them. Jane, Mary, and Kitty waited, already dressed in their cloaks, bonnets, and fur muffs. Mama came last, wearing one of Elizabeth’s favorite gowns. It was a very dark green—not the usual color for young ladies, but it suited her dark hair and fair complexion admirably. Someone recently trimmed the neckline with a little white lace, and Elizabeth admitted it improved the gown’s allure rather than making it seem too ornate.

“You look very nice, Lizzy,” she told Mama as she approached, her winter cloak draped over her arm.

“I am sorry I am tardy,” Mama said. “I had to finish adding the lace. Do you approve?”

Jane cast a strange look at her ‘sister,’ but said nothing.

“Yes, well,” Elizabeth cleared her throat, searching for something to do or say that would cover Mama’s slip. “It certainly makes that gown look more festive. I like it very well.”

Mama beamed and said nothing more, instead readying to brave the cold for the time it would take to reach Haye Park.

“Is Lydia to remain?” she asked Elizabeth softly as the others filed out of the house.

“Yes. I have promised her she can join us downstairs after we return if she behaves. Miss Holt has reported that she thinks Lydia can manage it.”

Mama sighed. “I should have hired a governess long ago.”

“No point quibbling now,” Elizabeth said crisply. “Shall we?”

Mr. Darcy waited to hand them in, first helping Elizabeth and cheekily saying, ‘Daughter,’ to her as she climbed in. Then he took Elizabeth’s hand, turning to assist her. “Wife,” he said huskily, staring deeply into her eyes. She licked her lips, her throat suddenly dry.

“Husband,” she replied. Ducking into the carriage, she settled into her seat. Jane and Mama joined her there. Mary, Mr. Darcy, and Kitty sat on the opposite bench.

The girls chattered away as the carriage drove off. Mama spoke with Jane about the wedding. Elizabeth felt grateful they could still speak so comfortably. Mama did a wonderful job impersonating Elizabeth while still being very much herself. Who could have imagined it? she wondered. I certainly could not!

Light poured from Haye Park’s windows, casting a glow on the snow. Carriage wheels had left many ruts in the white blanket, and it was thankfully not too icy to traverse without taking a tumble. Mr. Darcy helped each of the ladies out before escorting Elizabeth inside. Mr. and Mrs. Long promptly greeted them, welcoming them warmly to their home.

“Happy Christmas, Mr. Bennet! Mrs. Bennet!” Mr. Long was a gregarious man and as lively as Sir William Lucas. His wife was much quieter but greeted her guests with no less enthusiasm.

“I do hope you will enjoy our festivities,” she said warmly. “We have lovely parlor games, including bullet pudding! All the young people like that activity. Cards are in the parlor for those less inclined to messy diversions.”

Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth thanked their host and hostess and, arm in arm, went to the drawing room. They had set out a table of refreshments and punch, and guests mingled about the room. There were officers around, and she glanced around nervously for Mr. Wickham.

It seemed a miracle he and Mr. Darcy had not encountered each other since their meeting in Meryton before the ball. Elizabeth could not repine the loss. She did not like that she had been so easily taken in by that reprobate.

“I have not seen a certain red coated individual lately,” she muttered whilst they filled their plates with biscuits and puddings.

Mr. Darcy suddenly looked very nervous.

“Sir?” she asked. “Is there something you wish to tell me?”

He cleared his throat. “I may have asked your father to help me… We had him transferred to a unit in the regulars and shipped off to the Canadas.”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “And when did you do this? We have scarcely been apart in days!”

“I convinced him to help me a few days ago. It was before he became so anxiously engaged in our cause.” Darcy nodded to Elizabeth’s parents. They stood with Jane and Bingley, speaking animatedly.

“Well, I cannot be cross at you for acting thus,” she said with mock irritation. “I only wish you would have confided in me. I have watched for him and have feared for my sisters’ safety whilst he roamed about.”

“It is for them we acted. Your father and I could not bear if Mr. Wickham had the slightest chance to harm those who we love. And we also had concerns for the neighbors, of course.”

Elizabeth frowned. “But what of Miss Mary King? He courted her!”

Darcy cleared his throat. “I may have written her uncle—as Mr. Bennet, of course—in Liverpool an informative letter,” he said carefully. “He was most obliged, especially when I said that I would never wish for such a future for my own daughters or nieces. Life under Wickham’s control would have been a life of misery.”

She reached out and touched his cheek. “You are a very honorable man,” she murmured. “How did I become so fortunate as to have won your regard? I did not try to, I assure you.”

“You needed to do nothing more than be yourself, my dear.” He looked at her tenderly, his gaze drifting to her lips before clearing his throat. “Now, what say you to cards? I do not imagine you would wish to play bullet pudding, especially not when attired so becomingly.”

She laughed merrily. “You are a flatterer! I do not know why I ever thought you taciturn and serious.”

“You bring out this lighter side of me, my dear. My life was full dark before you brightened it.” He took her hand and looped her arm through his. “Shall we?”