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“I don’t know what you’re so angry about, Darcy.”

“I’m not angry.” Was he shouting? He was shouting. He needed to get hold of himself. “It’s just a surprise, that’s all.”

“How can it be a surprise when you know that the Bennet family is in the neighbourhood? You, of all people, know how I feel about Jane. It is a perfect time for me to really get acquainted with her family, and you and Miss Elizabeth have had some lively discussions…”

Darcy didn’t hear what Bingley said after that.

Lively discussions indeed. If he only knew of the lively discussion the two of them had in the shop window at Selfridges.

Darcy was so mortified by the incident that he didn’t dare speak of it to anyone, not even Charles.

Now, the entire Bennet family would be there for Christmas dinner.

How was he to go through with it? Her letter of thanks was cordial, but not effusive.

It certainly was not encouraging. She might still be resentful about his disclosure of his feelings about her family.

It only confirmed what he thought already.

He should keep his feelings to himself. No good came of it otherwise.

In any case, it was too late to change plans now.

Georgiana was home from Harpenden School for Girls where she was thriving.

Only twenty girls were in attendance, and the arts and modern languages were emphasised in the curriculum.

There she was able to study piano with the intensity that she desired.

The school was located in Hertfordshire, near Netherfield, and that fact started the entire idea of inviting the two families for Christmas in Caroline Bingley’s head.

Why should they languish alone at Pemberley when they could celebrate the season at Bingley’s new estate?

Charles thought Caroline’s idea was absolutely brilliant.

And although Bingley had not bought Netherfield yet, it seemed likely.

He confided in Darcy that he would be married soon, and he needed a permanent place for his wife and future family.

Netherfield was a splendid house, Georgian in architecture, but with many quasi-modern improvements, not the least of which was a large bathhouse and swimming pool installed by the owner during the Victorian craze for bathing pools.

The public, of course, wasn’t invited to this one.

Darcy made use of it every day of his stay.

The feeling of the water slipping over his skin as he trained his body gave him a certain solace.

The water was cold, but they heated the pool house just for him. He was grateful to Charles for that.

Christmas Day arrived, and the dinner was to take place in early afternoon, sometime after one.

Charles had scoured the countryside for a decent cook and found a few young people who were not farmhands nor had left for the city to wait at table.

So, once his breakfast had settled comfortably, Darcy set out for the pool house in his new velvet dressing gown that Georgiana had given him for Christmas.

It kept him warm enough as he crossed the stone walkway behind the house dressed only in it, his slippers, and the bathing costume he purchased at Selfridges.

The tank suit, which had no sleeves, a v neck, and vertical striping, reached midway down his thighs.

It was a big improvement over the bulkier suits of the past few years.

When he was alone at the lake at Pemberley, he sometimes swam in the altogether if he convinced himself that he was quite alone.

Here, he wouldn’t dare. The guests were not due for a few hours, but he never knew what Caroline Bingley would get into her head or if his sister might seek him out for some reason.

Plunging off the side into the chilly water gave his body a shock.

Kicking his way to the surface, he began the front crawl.

This stroke was considered un-European, but it propelled him quickly through the water.

Once he warmed up, he would allow himself a half an hour of breaststroke.

He then tried to stop thinking… stop thinking of Elizabeth, of his proposal, of her imminent re-entry into his life. He would just swim.

***

“Oh, I do believe there is someone in the pool, Miss Elizabeth. You are quite right. Must be Darcy.” Bingley stood at the edge of the pool and craned his head to peer into the rippling water.

“Oh.” Elizabeth spent the night tossing and turning, ruminating on the awkwardness of her and Darcy’s first meeting after that disastrous proposal of his, and now, here she was and here he was, half naked in a bathing costume.

Perhaps he wouldn’t come out of the water.

He probably didn’t even know they were there.

While these thoughts were swirling in her head, a figure of a man—a fine figure of a man—pulled himself up a ladder at the far end of the pool, took a white towel in his hands, and began rubbing it through his black, wavy, dripping hair.

He began to speak, the towel draped in front of his face obscuring them from his view.

Elizabeth marvelled at his physique. The muscles in his arms flexed and unflexed as he towelled his hair.

The rest of his body, the wet bathing costume clinging to his every sinew and muscle—an ideal of young manhood.

She had seen him in this state before, at Henley, but only from a distance.

Now, here he was, a statue of David come to life.

“Come to swim, Charles? Water’s a bit nippy, but… Oh, Miss Bennet.”

Taken completely unawares, Darcy lunged for his dressing gown, awkwardly struggling into it and tying the tassels tightly around his waist before facing them again.

Elizabeth was mortified. She had no intention of embarrassing Mr Darcy and dreaded their meeting over the Christmas dinner table.

This was much worse. It was as if the gods were conspiring against them.

Various alternatives flashed in her head.

She could follow her first impulse and flee the scene, but that would make their next meeting at dinner so much more difficult.

She could brazen it out, but she didn’t feel brazen at the moment and didn’t want to confirm what she believed was his worst opinions of her.

Why did she care? She didn’t know, but she did care. There was only one thing for it.

“Do you think that I might swim here whenever we are at Longbourn, Mr Bingley? If Mr Darcy can brave the cold water, I do believe I could as well.”

“Most certainly, Miss Elizabeth. I would prefer that the pool is enjoyed rather than languish here unused.”

Darcy approached them, and a smile crossed his face.

The dressing gown was firmly closed around his body and his slippers made a soft flopping sound on the deck of the pool as he walked.

He focused on Bingley. “Oh, it will not languish, Bingley. I told you at Henley that I would teach you to swim, and I will. You can count on it.”

Bingley joined Elizabeth at the edge of the pool, dipping his hand into it.

“Oh, my word. This is colder than the Thames.” They both stood and joined Darcy.

“You may teach me, but in the summertime. I don’t have your fortitude.

Come along now and dress. Our guests have arrived, and Georgiana has promised to play carols at the piano so that we might sing. It will be quite jolly. Come along.”

Darcy cleared his throat and, with a gesture, he indicated that Elizabeth should lead the way. As soon as they were on the garden path, Charles took off at a trot to play host, no doubt, which left Lizzy and Darcy to head towards the house together.

They walked together in silence for a few moments, but Lizzy couldn’t bear it. She had to say something. “I want to thank you again for coming to my aid when I was arrested.”

Darcy made a dismissive gesture with his hand but said nothing.

Lizzy had dreaded the moment they would first see each other alone, and this was more painfully awkward than she had imagined.

The house seemed miles away in the silence.

She wracked her brain for something else to say. She refused to mention the weather.

“How is your sister?” she said as he simultaneously asked, “How are your sisters?” Their gazes met, and she gave a laugh. He didn’t smile. Oh dear. As they reached the house, he opened the door and held it for her.

“Thank you, Mr Darcy.” Lizzy looked directly at him. Surely, he would say something.

“If you’ll excuse me,” was all he could manage as he disappeared up the rear staircase.

That didn’t go well. He was still angry with her because of her not-too-gentle refusal of his proposal of marriage.

Ah, well. They needed to get through this holiday together as best they could, and then they could go their own separate ways.

As she neared the drawing room, the merrymaking drifted on through.

***

Bingley was correct. The singing, the Edison lights on the tree (only the drawing room and the kitchen had electricity), the sumptuous dinner, made livelier by her sisters, and the joy of being together settled Lizzy’s spirit.

The house itself was resplendent with holly branches and yew.

Dinner was several courses including roast pork and roast goose, and when the flaming plum pudding made an entrance, Lydia stood and gave it an ovation, which caused everyone to not only burst into laughter, but applaud as well.

Thankfully, Mr Darcy made no move to speak to her alone and she didn’t seek him out either.

Conversation at dinner was pleasant, and with Mary less introspective and Kitty and Lydia less boisterous, all was calm and bright.