Chapter 16

Belper

Derbyshire

14 th December, 1812

The wheels of the carriage rattled as they passed from dusty road to cobbled street, the horses clopping pleasantly ahead of them. Darcy swayed slightly and glanced down at his sister beside him. She was looking out the window, her eyes sparkling with pleasure at the sight of numerous quaint houses and shops. A lovely stone church rolled into view, and Darcy eyed it approvingly as they went by.

Across from them, Miss Bennet made soft exclamations of delight at the charming town. Miss Bingley, on the other hand, seemed more bored than interested while Mrs. Annesley, seated on the other side of Miss Bennet, knitted placidly.

Only five members of the house party had made the journey to Belper this morning. Bingley, currently visiting the estate of Greymond in Derbyshire with a view to purchasing it, was not available and Anne Fitzwilliam, still feeling delicate and tired, had opted to remain at home and rest. Louisa Hurst, too, had remained at Pemberley, unenthused about riding in the carriage for three hours for the sole purpose of buying toys for tenant children.

Mrs. Hurst was, at least, more honest than her sister, Darcy thought sardonically. Miss Bingley was covering her palpable contempt for the task with a saccharine sweetness that was directed primarily at himself, which only annoyed him. Darcy was far more impressed with Miss Bennet, who was even now consulting a piece of paper she held carefully in one tan-gloved hand. Lists were written neatly across it in two very different hands; he recognized his sister’s, which made the other Miss Bennet’s. She even had beautiful handwriting, he thought admiringly.

Elizabeth Bennet and Georgiana had compiled the list of presents for the farmers’ children, and Darcy was struck anew with her kindness. Richard was right; Miss Bennet was a wonderful lady who also appeared to have no interest in him as a prospective groom. He was arrogant to think that a single sign from him would bring her to his feet. Though she conversed easily with him, and laughed at him, and teased him, she displayed none of the simpering flirtation which he was so used to receiving from eligible young women. Miss Bennet paid Georgiana far more attention than she did the master of Pemberley, in marked contrast to Caroline Bingley, who hung on his every word and batted her lashes and flattered him at every opportunity. Miss Bennet was refreshing in that she did none of this, but that very lack of marked attention also indicated that she did not share Miss Bingley’s attraction to him, and that was a sobering thought.

“Brother, shall we descend to the street?” Georgiana asked, breaking into his thoughts.

Darcy jerked in surprise and turned toward the door, only to discover that the carriage had come to a halt and a manservant had opened the door and was waiting. “My apologies. I was wool gathering.”

He stepped down and handed out the ladies one by one, noting the warm thrill in his entire body when Miss Bennet accepted his assistance and briefly placed her gloved hand in his own before achieving the ground, whereupon she released it without so much as a lingering touch. This was, of course, very different from Caroline Bingley, who clutched his hand with fervor, and then snagged his left arm as the party made their way toward the front door of a toy shop.

He was, he realized, in love with Elizabeth Bennet. But Richard was correct. He needed to be certain that he could respect her in spite of her doubtful connections and vulgar relations. Moreover, if he decided to proceed, he would need to woo the lady, and he had not the slightest idea how to do that.

/

Chapel at Pemberley

Christmas Day, 1812

Darcy looked around the box allotted to his family, his heart full and warm. He still remembered the previous year, when he had sat here in cold isolation while Georgiana recovered from the mumps. Now the Darcy box was filled – not to capacity, for it was large, but enough so that everyone could sit comfortably without being crowded or too far from their neighbor. Today, the blocks for warming feet were being shared, between himself and his sister, between Bingley and his younger sister, between the Hursts – sitting on the opposite side of the box, and beside them, Mrs. Annesley and Miss Bennet shared the last one. The women all had their hands buried in their muffs, but Darcy, remembering how chill and lonely it had been the previous year, could only be grateful for the companionship and extra heat from so many people sitting so close together.

Beside him, Georgiana sat attentively watching the rector. Darcy knew he ought to be doing the same as the man delivered the Christmas message, but he was distracted by Miss Bennet, who sat directly opposite to him, looking enchantingly lovely in a dark green woolen dress, the simplicity of which only accentuated off her piquant face and dark hair. She was not looking at him, but sat with her eyes solemnly closed, her full focus on the message of the rector behind her. Darcy sat watching her, admiring her earnest piety and the Christian kindness he saw about her so often. After a moment, guilt crept up on him, and he turned his gaze to the rector and his attention to the sermon.

“ I n the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The same was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not any thing made that was made. In him was life, and the life was the light of men. And the light shineth in darkness, and the darkness comprehended it not.”

Just like the previous year, his eyes drifted over to the Nativity window, and he examined the glass depiction of the infant Jesus. A solemn joy filled his soul as he reflected on the life of God-as-man, how the Architect of the entire world had descended to compact Himself into the body of a tiny baby, grown up – through teething pains and growing pains and adolescence – into adulthood, preaching to all of Israel and preparing disciples to go out into all the world, before going willingly to a terrible death. And then a triumphant rise from a grave that could not hold its Maker, a final proof of a love too great to be truly comprehended by a finite human mind.

Nor did that great Love stop there. It invited people closer, invited people to ask for further gifts. A verse came to mind;

If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not; and it shall be given him .

Darcy did not remember the precise reference, only that it was from the first chapter of the Epistle of James. He pondered it a long moment and closed his eyes to say a quick prayer. He thanked the Lord for His great gift, which started the Christmas season. A deep breath followed, along with a quick peek across the pew box. Darcy closed his eyes again and continued, asking for wisdom and guidance in the matter of Miss Bennet.

He truly did not know what to do. He had never – never – encountered a woman more enchanting, more perfect for him in every respect of her person and personality. It was only the happenstances of birth that stood between them; she, born the second daughter of an indolent country squire, the estate entailed away from herself and her sisters, with no great prospects in life. Darcy himself was her opposite; wealthy, well-connected, much sought after on the marriage mart, the nephew of an earl, with a name nearly as old as England herself.

And yet, she was vibrant, well-educated, charitable, arch and teasing, generous and with a heart for the tenants that he had rarely seen among the gentry, along with being knowledgeable about the work required in the running of an estate. She was sweet and patient with his shy younger sister, and Georgiana already loved her. She was, in many ways, his perfect match.

But his own personal feelings could not outweigh what he owed his name, his family, and his position. So Darcy remained caught in indecision, uneasily conscious of the ever-approaching date of Miss Bennet’s departure from Pemberley. Could he really bear to let her go without even a hint of his true feelings? Should he?

/

Pemberley Estate

Boxing Day

26 th December, 1812

Cold nipped at Elizabeth’s nose and stung her eyes as she squinted merrily at the white snow around them. Georgiana was a welcome warmth against her side, both of them tucked up firmly beneath layers of rugs and furs. The bells on the horses’ harnesses jingled, filling the air with cheery fairy-like ringing, as the sleigh sped over the crisp, newly fallen snow.

Across from the two girls, Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley sat side by side, also wrapped warmly and with a hot brick at their feet. Almost every other available inch in the sleigh was taken up with packages and parcels, piled on the seats and spilling over the floorboards and stacked carefully against the sides of the sleigh. Baskets and hampers of food and folded blankets and brown-paper-wrapped parcels tied with twine by careful toy store clerks and clothes knitted and sewn and purchased, all pushed into wherever was big enough to hold them.

Elizabeth beamed at the bounty. She had woken to a large fire in her fireplace that cheerfully combatted the cold brought on by an overnight snowfall. She had stayed curled up in bed drinking chocolate as the fire did its work, contented and cozy and gazing out at the landscape visible beyond a frost-decorated window. The world had been transformed overnight into a frosted sugar wonderland, trees and soft swelling sward alike sparkling white. It had been a truly beautiful sight, and Elizabeth had enjoyed it very much, though an unease had settled over her at the thought that they might not be able to deliver the tenants’ presents that morning. At least the servants in the house and stables would receive theirs, as it would be no difficulty to carry the packages up to the servants’ quarters in the attic and over the stables.

Mr. Darcy had eased her fears over breakfast with the announcement that he had been outside to check the snow and consult with the coachman, and they had concluded that the snow was thick and hard enough to permit for the sleigh to pass through. Elizabeth and Georgiana had hurried to their rooms to bundle up warmly, as both girls were excited about the upcoming ride and distribution of presents.

The journey was everything Elizabeth had hoped it would be. Bright red and brown birds hopped around on the snow’s crust, while rabbits and hares with their thick winter coats peeped from beneath leafless bushes and shrubs. All the trees had traded in their leaves of green for coats of purest white, and the evergreens stood in dark striking contrast to the alabaster around them. It was a beautiful day, despite the cold, and Elizabeth was overjoyed to be out and about.

It was not only, or even primarily, the scenery that inspired the warm glow in her heart, however. She had always enjoyed Boxing Day, consulting for weeks with her mother and Jane and Mary on what they would give the tenants. The children’s joy had ever delighted her, as had the gratitude of the busy farmers’ wives. Now, she was elated and honored to participate in the yearly tradition here at Pemberley.

She looked across the sleigh at Mr. Darcy, where he sat absorbed in conversation with his friend. She took a moment to simply admire the sight; Mr. Bingley looked as handsome and cheerful as ever in a red coat lined with dark forest green that set off his blond hair. But Mr. Darcy, she thought, was far handsomer in his dark coat that looked so well with his dark hair and serious eyes, his face customarily grave. Mr. Darcy was an excellent master, assiduous in performing his duties, generous and attentive to the needs of the people dependent on him. It was a rare landowner who cared so much for his tenants – who would ride for hours to find a better toy shop for gifts for the children of farmers. She took a deep breath of the crisp winter air to cool the growing admiration of her heart. He finally looked up and caught her eye, and she smiled at him before looking to the right as the first tenant cottage came into view. She had been mistaken in her initial view of Mr. Darcy, when he had insulted her and she had foolishly listened to Mr. Wickham’s lies. The longer she knew him, the more she admired the master of Pemberley.

The sleigh came to a halt and Darcy leaped out, followed by Bingley, who helped out the ladies as Darcy and the coachman began gathering gifts. Within seconds, the door of the cottage opened and several children ran out and started jumping and cavorting with enthusiasm, causing Elizabeth to laugh with joy and excitement. There was no place she would rather be than here and now, with her friends.

/

Anne’s Sitting Room

Pemberley

14 th January, 1813

Anne Fitzwilliam reached out her hands toward the fire to warm them, even as she stared mournfully at her friend.

“I will miss you, Elizabeth,” she said.

Elizabeth, who was dressed warmly in blue wool, smiled and said, “I will miss you as well, but my father is growing genuinely querulous over my absence. None of my sisters are as enthusiastic about books as I am, and he sounds bored.”

“Well,” Anne said, “it was very good of your father to spare you here for so long. You will write?”

“Often,” Elizabeth declared. “Now Anne, do not feel as if you must write to me in return if you are feeling poorly. I will write to you regularly, regardless.”

“Thank you, dear friend. I am most definitely improving, though the process is slower than I desire. I hope you will consider visiting us at Rosings in a few months.”

“If my family can spare me, I would enjoy that very much; it would be delightful to spend more time with you as well as Charlotte Collins.”

There was a tap at the door, and Sally stepped in and said, “Miss Bennet, the carriage is at the door, and your trunks have been loaded.”

“Thank you,” she replied, rolling to her feet and leaning over to embrace her friend, whose face was now slightly plump due to her pregnancy. “Until we meet again, Anne.”

“Goodbye, Elizabeth,” Anne replied with a watery smile, and Elizabeth, well aware that Anne was prone to tears due to her condition, nodded briskly and made her way out of the room, where Sally was waiting with her pelisse and hat and heavy gloves.

“Thank you,” she said, donning her warm clothing, and then hurrying down the massive staircase to the foyer, where Mr. and Miss Darcy were waiting for her, with the latter looking sad.

“Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy,” she said with a nod at her hosts, “thank you for allowing me to visit for so many weeks.”

“It was our very great pleasure,” Mr. Darcy said. “You have brought much joy to our house.”

“Indeed you have, Elizabeth,” Georgiana declared, lurching forward to embrace her friend. “I will miss you very much and wish you did not need to go, but assuredly, your family desires to see you again. You will write, I hope?”

“I will, Georgiana,” Elizabeth promised. “I greatly enjoy corresponding with my friends. Now, I know the horses ought not to stand, so I had better leave.

“Godspeed, Elizabeth,” Georgiana said, and Darcy held out his arm and said, “Please allow me to walk you to your carriage, Miss Bennet.”

Elizabeth did so and found herself deposited carefully into the carriage across from the respectable maid who had been assigned the task of keeping Elizabeth company during her journey to Longbourn. She was certainly grateful for Mr. Darcy’s care. Not only had he provided a companion for her, but he had assigned outriders to keep her safe on the trip.

“Until we meet again, Miss Bennet,” Darcy said gravely and shut the door. A moment later, the carriage jolted into motion, and Elizabeth pulled a handy rug over her body and pushed her feet closer to the foot warmer. To her right was a basket full of provisions for the journey and to the left a pile of books, thoughtfully lent to Elizabeth from the great library of Pemberley. Two of the books were old favorites, and three were entirely new to her, but she did not feel any desire to read at the moment.

No, her mind was fixed on Pemberley, which was fading into the distance behind her. When she had agreed to accompany the Fitzwilliams to Derbyshire, she had been excited but not at all certain she would enjoy herself. Yes, she liked Anne very much, and Richard as well, but she did not think much of Mr. Darcy, and Miss Darcy had been, at the time, completely unknown.

The previous two months had, thankfully, proven thoroughly enjoyable after a difficult beginning. Miss Darcy, while initially shy, had warmed up quickly and was now a genuine friend, while Mr. Darcy himself had been a gracious and kindly host.

Indeed, she thought Mr. Darcy was the sort of man whom she would like to marry someday. His understanding and temper were dissimilar to her own, but complementary. Not that she had any expectation of winning Mr. Darcy’s attention. As the master of a truly vast and wealthy estate with an uncle as an earl, she knew that he was far above her reach. She was very comfortable with herself and her own position in society, but it would be foolish to imagine that there could be anything between the impecunious daughter of a country squire and the master of Pemberley.

At least, she mused with a chuckle, she was aware of Mr. Darcy’s indifference. Poor Miss Bingley had been stiffly courteous to her since the massive argument the very first day Elizabeth had arrived at Pemberley, but while she had sheathed her verbal claws, she had continued her vain pursuit of an offer from Mr. Darcy.

Elizabeth knew now that her ability to understand the hearts of men was not completely reliable, but she was confident that Darcy of Pemberley had no interest in Caroline Bingley. The lady was handsome and wealthy but neither particularly intelligent nor sympathetic, and she did not know anything about overseeing an estate, as evidenced by her complete bemusement and disdain about Boxing Day. Elizabeth smiled at the memories of the Boxing Day festivities, when she and Georgiana and Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy had driven from one tenant family to another, distributing warm clothes and food and toys. The cries of joy from the tenant children had been a delight to hear, and she had derived considerable pleasure in observing Mr. Darcy’s interactions with the farmers and their wives. He was the great man of the area, without a doubt, and he treated his people with generosity and dignity.

She would miss Mr. Darcy.