Chapter Twenty-Eight

Elizabeth

24 th December 1811

E lizabeth had just finished inspecting the arrangements for supper when Mrs Reynolds approached her, hands clasped with a warmth that softened her expression. “Miss Bennet,” she said quietly, “I just wanted to say how very glad I am you’re here. It’s been so long since Pemberley has felt so whole. Like it has a mistress again.”

Elizabeth blinked, caught off guard by the sentiment. “Oh, Mrs Reynolds, I hardly think of myself as such,” she replied, a little flustered but undeniably moved.

“Well,” Mrs Reynolds chuckled, “I should think no one would dare say otherwise in town. There’s already talk of you and Mr Darcy being secretly wed. They think little Maggie is Mr Darcy’s stepdaughter now.” She lowered her voice conspiratorially, “I say it’s good talk. The more certain people are of that, the safer little Miss Maggie will be.”

Elizabeth nodded, feeling a strange ache at the words, knowing how they mirrored her own heart’s unspoken wish. Mr Darcy had tried to keep their arrival secret. Though in a town as small as Lambton, and in a house with so many servants who lived locally, that had been difficult. “Yes,” she murmured. “If people believe us a family… the men after Maggie would be less likely to come.”

Mrs Reynolds paused, her eyes softening. “It’s a good thought. I do hope it brings you comfort that you are keeping that little angel safe. I am sure you must miss your family.”

“I do, but keeping Maggie safe is more important, and my family understands. Thought I do wish I could write to them, or visit alas, it can’t be.” When they had arrived, a letter had been sent from Sheffield and Elizabeth had given the barest details—allowing her family to know that she was safe, but not disclosing her whereabouts in case the letter was intercepted. Similarly, receiving news from home was impossible, so she had to assume that her family were safe and there had been no more visits from the men who wanted to take Maggie.

“Soon, I am certain. But I do feel for you… At this time of year, it must be especially difficult.”

Elizabeth stilled. This time of year? It took her a moment until she reminded herself of the date. It would be Christmas day tomorrow and they had prepared nothing!

“Of course,” she replied, collecting herself. “I hadn’t even… I mean, I hadn’t given much thought to it. But yes, you are quite correct.”

Mrs Reynolds patted her hand kindly, her smile as warm as the crackling fires that filled the house. “It can be a lonely time if one isn’t surrounded by loved ones.”

Elizabeth gave her a tight but grateful smile and excused herself.

“Indeed. Mrs Reynolds, will you excuse me?”

“Of course,” the woman replied and watched as Elizabeth rushed away towards Mr Darcy’s study.

“Mr Darcy,” she called softly, hesitating before continuing. “Elizabeth,” he said with a smile and rose.

“Today is Christmas Eve,” she said with haste.

He turned to her, a look of surprise dawning in his eyes. “Christmas Eve?” he repeated, as though the word had suddenly brought him back to the present. “Good heavens, I had quite forgotten!”

Elizabeth gave a warm smile, though her own heart skipped at the thought. “With everything that has been happening, I nearly did as well. Mrs Reynolds made me think of it. Pray, do you not think we ought to do something—for Maggie?”

“We must do something at once. We cannot let Christmas pass her by.” He closed the door of his study firmly so they would not be overheard. “I do not know what her life was like before, or what sort of celebrations she is used to, but we must make sure she is happy and comfortable on this day. It must be harder for her than ever to be away from her loved ones. And you, of course.”

“We need not worry about me, it is Maggie we need to think of. Pray, do you think there is enough time for us to purchase some gifts?”

“I am certain. Mrs Reynolds can watch Maggie for the morning. Shall we go into Lambton and see what we can find?”

Elizabeth’s eyes brightened, and she nodded eagerly. “Yes, indeed! We shall make it a true Christmas for her.”

With hurried but excited steps, they set about their task. Accompanied by Elizabeth, Mr Darcy instructed the servants to arrange for the house to be decorated with holly, ivy, and sweet-scented rosemary, and conferred with the cook for a festive meal.

With all that set, they donned their winter cloaks and hats, making their way through the brisk morning to the carriage. Snow lay in crisp layers across the landscape, with Pemberley’s trees and fields softly blanketed in white. It would be a magical Christmas, if not for the circumstances that had brought them together.

***

As they reached the town of Lambton, they made straight for the small toy shop nestled on the main street.

Inside, a bell jingled cheerfully above their heads, and the warm scent of cedar wood and wool filled the air. Elizabeth rubbed her hands together, grateful for the warmth, while Mr Darcy surveyed the shop with curious eyes.

“This place,” he said, a bit sheepishly, “is not one I have ever entered. Perhaps I ought to have brought Georgiana when she was a little girl.”

Elizabeth’s smile grew. “Then today is a first for both of us. Look at all these wonders. Perhaps Maggie would like a small doll or a game?” She walked slowly along a row of polished wooden toys, some finely crafted animals and a small doll’s pram with wheels that spun smoothly.

The shelves were filled with toys that seemed almost magical, their bright colours and delicate details standing out against the dark wooden shelves. Elizabeth picked up a doll with painted cheeks, dressed in a gown of blue silk with lace trimmings, her hair made of soft flaxen yarn. “I had a doll much like this when I was young. My father brought it to me after a trip to London, and I kept it near me always.” She chuckled. “My sisters and I would argue over whose turn it was to hold her.”

“A doll, then,” Mr Darcy mused. “But perhaps something more as well.” He reached for a small, beautifully carved rocking horse. “I remember having one of these as a boy. Though it took some persuading to get my father to buy me one. He was afraid that I would be spoiled.”

Elizabeth laughed. “Well, it is Maggie’s turn to be spoiled. What about these miniature tin soldiers?” She held up a small painted soldier with a red coat and black tricorn hat. “My uncle gave some to my cousins, and we used to stage entire battles across the parlour floor at Christmas. They would line them up by rank, and I would inevitably knock them all down with one swoop of my hand!”

“That seems a toy rather for a boy than little girls,” he said, perplexed.

“Indeed, that is why I so enjoyed playing with them, because I was not supposed to. My mother thought it wasn’t fitting for young girls and made quite the fuss about it until my aunt supplied her with enough Negus to make her feel as though she had no care in the world,” Elizabeth said with a laugh.

“I never imagined Christmas was so… lively,” Mr Darcy said, smiling. “Ours were altogether more restrained. We spent most Christmases at Matlock with my grandfather, the late Earl. There were always gifts, though they were usually practical—a pair of gloves, a new set of handkerchiefs, or a warm woollen scarf. My sister and I would exchange small trinkets, but everything was quite solemn.”

Elizabeth shook her head with a soft laugh. “We were never solemn at Longbourn. Mama would insist upon a grand meal with roast goose or mutton, and my sisters and I would accompany Papa on Christmas Eve to the woods so he could fell the Yule log. We always played music, though mostly we only sang and danced to whatever my sister Mary could play on the pianoforte.” She sighed wistfully. “Christmas in the country is always a bit of a merry jumble.”

“Your Christmas sounds far more spirited,” Mr Darcy replied, sounding almost wistful. “After my parents died, I tried to bring some warmth to Georgiana’s Christmases, but somehow, there was always something to keep us away from home. It was difficult to create the sort of celebration I’d dreamt of.” He paused, a thoughtful look in his eyes. “I always hoped to one day have a Christmas of warmth and laughter—something more like yours.”

Elizabeth met his gaze, her heart softening. “I understand that wish. I too have often dreamt of a Christmas… perhaps a little less chaotic.” She laughed softly. “But perhaps if we work together, we might create something that is just enough of both.”

He looked at her, and in his gaze was a warmth that seemed to envelop her, a promise that perhaps, they could make something beautiful together. “Perhaps we might,” he said, his voice low.

She felt her cheeks warm, but she quickly busied herself, selecting a spinning top and a hoop. Mr Darcy, meanwhile, chose a set of small wooden animals, each painted with careful details, and the little rocking horse. Elizabeth nodded approvingly as they gathered their choices. It was rather a lot of toys, but as the little girl had nothing, it was no more than a child of a wealthy family would usually have.

They made their way to the counter, where the shopkeeper carefully wrapped each item in brown paper, his movements unhurried and precise. The warmth of the shop had made their cheeks glow, and as they stepped back out into the street, Elizabeth took a deep breath, her spirits lifting. The snow was falling softly, swirling in delicate patterns through the air, dusting the streets and shop fronts with a shimmering layer of white.

“Oh!” Elizabeth exclaimed, looking up at the sky with delight. “It is as if the world has dressed itself up just for Christmas.”

“It is a beautiful sight,” Mr Darcy said, though Elizabeth blushed as she realised that as he said those words, his gaze was fixed on her.

She turned to him with a gentle smile. “Thank you, Mr Darcy. Maggie will be overjoyed, and in creating happiness for her, I don’t feel so far from the warmth of my family.”

He nodded, his smile tender. “It was long overdue. And I have you to thank for reminding me.”

They walked back to the carriage in a comfortable silence, the only sound was the soft crunch of snow beneath their feet and the occasional festive greeting from passersby.

When they reached Pemberley, Mrs Reynolds greeted them with a knowing smile.

“How was your adventure, Miss Bennet? Sir?”

Elizabeth’s cheeks flushed as she exchanged a glance with Mr Darcy. “Very successful, Mrs Reynolds. We have secured everything we need for a proper Christmas morning.”

“Well, Maggie has kept herself quite busy helping the servants decorate the house and has not noticed your absence,” Mrs Reynolds said with a wink. “But she will surely be beside herself with excitement.”

Elizabeth caught Mr Darcy’s eye and felt a surge of hope, her heart felt light than it had been in days. Perhaps, she thought, this Christmas could be the beginning of something more than just a celebration—a glimpse into a life that might be.

But as her thoughts began to drift, she caught herself and turned her focus to the cheerful bustle of preparation.

There was much yet to do, and with a heart full of anticipation, Elizabeth realised she looked forward to Christmas with a joy she hadn’t felt in years.

***

That evening, Pemberley’s grand drawing room came alive with activity as Mr Darcy, Elizabeth, and the household staff gathered to transform it into a wonderland of Christmas cheer for little Maggie.

The room had been decked in evergreen boughs and bright berries that had been gathered from the Pemberley estate itself. The room was filled with the earthy scent of fir and pine, while the flickering glow of candles cast soft, warm light onto holly wreaths, ivy garlands, and bundles of mistletoe that hung over the doors.

Elizabeth carefully arranged sprigs of holly on the mantel, weaving red ribbons through them. A large Yule log, carefully selected that afternoon by Mr Darcy and Maggie, had been brought in by the groundskeeper and set in the hearth. Mr Darcy directed the servants with quiet pleasure, setting small wax candles in iron sconces, the flickering flames creating a cosy, inviting glow as the Yule log was lit.

For their efforts, she’d overheard Mr Darcy order Hastings to arrange additional time off for the staff, as well as a larger than usual bonus for the season. Hearing it made her smile, for she understood that Mr Darcy was held in high regard by his employees for good reason.

And even in her estimation, he rose higher and higher—despite the unhappiness he’d brought to her sister. Though with is letter sent to Mr Bingley a fortnight age, it was possible that Jane too would soon be happily celebrating the season once more.