A Merry Darcy Christmas

“Remember what I said about announcing your engagement on Christmas Eve,” she said, her tone softer and more agreeable. “You will see that it is an excellent time for you to make public what is already well known privately. Think on it, Fitzwilliam. That is all I ask.”

“I will think on it if you agree to think of the common,” Darcy said. But already his thoughts were turning to Elizabeth Bennet.

She was here, and he would soon see her! His hand reflexively went to his breast pocket, where the letter to her, penned months before, rested, waiting for the chance to be given to her. She had refused it once, but he must find a way to keep her from refusing it a second time.

“I am all astonishment,” Caroline Bingley said. “Of all the people I expected might be in attendance for Christmas at Rosings Park, I certainly did not expect to see your family.”

“Nor I, yours,” said Elizabeth, doing her best to ignore the intended insult. Her only goal was to preserve Jane from further harm at the hands of Caroline Bingley—not to mention Mr. Darcy—and she could not afford to bridle at every insult to her family. “It is an unexpected pleasure.”

“Indeed. I am sure it must be,” said Caroline with a small smile.

They were in the drawing room, but there was no sign of Lady Catherine. Nor was there any sign of Mr. Darcy, or Georgiana. Mr. Hurst was glumly drinking sherry while his wife played the pianoforte. Mary knew better than to attempt to follow her and was instead listening politely while Kitty and Anne were once again conversing together as intimately as two thieves.

There was no sign of Jane, and Elizabeth thought she must be in her room. Mrs. Bennet, fortunately, she knew, was taking her afternoon rest.

“It is a most agreeable pleasure,” said Mr. Bingley. “I could not have hoped such good fortune as to find you and your family here at Christmas.”

Elizabeth merely nodded. She noticed that Mr. Bingley seemed awkward, and perhaps a little embarrassed. He ought to be, the way he treated her sister. He should thank his good fortune that her mother was not present.

“Have any other guests arrived yet?” Caroline asked.

“Yes,” said Elizabeth. “Lord Northover and his friend Mr. Pettigrew arrived yesterday. Do you know those gentlemen?”

“I do know Lord Northover,” Caroline replied. “I do not know Mr. Pettigrew. Do you, Charles?”

“Lord Northover is a fine chap,” said Mr. Bingley. “Don’t know Mr. Pettigrew, I don’t think. But you know me and names.”

Mrs. Hurst was playing beautifully, Elizabeth had to admit. “Your sister plays very well,” she said, intending a sincere compli

ment.

“Oh, we had a great deal of instruction,” said Caroline. “Not just at school, but from various tutors. Our music teacher, in particular, was most proficient. You were raised, I believe, without a governess? And you did not go to school?”

“Well, there’s nobody more familiar with books than Miss Elizabeth Bennet,” said Mr. Bingley. “A natural student, I should say.”

“Yes,” Caroline said quickly. “Miss Elizabeth Bennet likes reading above all other things. She’s hardly any interest, as I recall, in anything else.”

Elizabeth let this pass. She had to maintain her control and not take offense as Caroline Bingley wished. She resolved to let the insults pass, and keep focused on steering a course that would keep Jane from once again being disappointed.

“How has your sister been keeping?” asked Mr. Bingley. He asked this somewhat hesitantly. “I do hope she’s been keeping well.”

“Yes, how is your sister Jane?” Caroline said solicitously. “I hope she’s keeping indoors and out of the frightful cold. She is so susceptible to illness, as I recall.”

“Jane is keeping very well, thank you,” Elizabeth said.

“That’s jolly good,” said Mr. Bingley. “Jolly good indeed!”

To his credit, Elizabeth thought, he looked sincerely happy at the news.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Lord Northover and Mr. Pettigrew. The two gentlemen went straight to the fire—Mr. Pettigrew pouring himself a drink first—and began to warm themselves at it.

“Really,” said Lady Caroline under her breath. “There is the matter of introductions . . .”

“Yes,” said Mr. Bingley. “and here’s Mr. Darcy, who knows everyone I believe, perhaps he’ll be so kind?”

Darcy, who had walked into the drawing room with Georgiana on his arm, bowed low and indicated he would be pleased to perform that office.

Despite the fact Elizabeth had expected to have to see him eventually, she nevertheless found herself taken aback by his sudden arrival. Mr. Darcy had the same proud demeanor that she remembered, although she had to admit that his manners were excellent and pleasing so far as they went. He did not address her directly, except to introduce her to his sister, and she was too flustered to speak to him. She knew she would regret this later. In her bedchamber tonight a flurry of witty remarks would arise which she would rue not having deployed, but for now, in his presence, it was all she could do to nod to him.