Chapter 22

Netherfield

Monday, 24 th December

“Thank you, Percy,” Darcy said to his valet, who, after a last, careful examination of his master, stepped away with a satisfied nod. Darcy cast one lingering look in the mirror and liked what he saw. He was dressed warmly in pantaloons and a woolen coat, his cravat was carefully tied, and his hair was neat and tidy. Outside the window, snow fell, though lazily, in contrast to the previous night, when several inches of snow had descended with startling rapidity.

A quick glance at the clock reminded him that he and his party were due to leave for Longbourn in the next few minutes, and after a word of thanks to Percy, he hurried out the door and down the stairs to find himself in the large open vestibule of Netherfield Hall.

Georgiana was the only one waiting yet, and he smiled at her. She was likewise dressed in practical woolens for the journey to Longbourn. The weather was sunny today but very cold, and while the Bingley carriage was one of the best that money could buy, it was still sensible to dress appropriately for the elements.

“You look very nice, Brother,” Georgiana remarked with a knowing smile, and he willed himself not to flush. He knew that his sister wanted him to marry Elizabeth, but he was still uncertain in his own mind whether he ought to do so given that his relations would disapprove. Indeed, his own parents, gone for many years, had expected him to marry into the upper circles of society; could he betray their memory by offering for the daughter of a country gentleman?

“What do you think of my wreath?” Georgiana asked, gesturing at the circlet of greens hanging on the wall. He stepped forward and regarded it with interest. It was charmingly made, with holly and mistletoe and bay, with white and red berries mixed with the greenery.

“You made this?” he asked.

Georgiana blushed and said, “With help, yes. Mrs. Hill at Longbourn is an adept, and she taught Lydia and Kitty and me how to make wreaths. The younger Bennets also collected greenery and sent it over this morning so that the servants could decorate Netherfield.”

Darcy looked around in surprise to observe the ivy hanging on doors, and when he took a few quick steps into the drawing room, he found that holly had been hung in some of the windows, and the mantel was carefully adorned with both mistletoe and green branches.

“It is pretty, is it not?” Georgiana asked, having followed him in.

“It is, very,” he agreed, and put an arm around her. He suspected she was thinking the same thing as he, of Christmases at Pemberley with their father before he died. While Georgiana could not remember the years before Lady Anne had passed on, Darcy could remember his mother’s joy at decorating the house during the season celebrating Christ’s birth.

“Good morning, Mr. Darcy, Miss Darcy,” a soft voice came from behind them, and they turned around to observe their host and hostess.

“Good morning, Mrs. Bingley, Bingley,” Darcy replied, and Georgiana murmured her own greetings.

“We apologize for descending rather late,” Jane Bingley said in some discomfort. Darcy suppressed a smile at these words and quickly said, “Not at all; I believe it still lacks a few minutes to the hour.”

Since their wedding day, the newly married Bingleys had chosen to spend a substantial amount of every day in their chambers, though they always came down for dinner. Mrs. Bingley was proving a charming mistress of Netherfield, and the conversations during and after the meal were always pleasant. Although he would not, of course, betray any salacious details, Bingley was obviously overjoyed in his marriage. Darcy had never seen his friend so happy.

Darcy and Georgiana had spent many hours with Miss Bingley and the Hursts, but even that had not proven too unpleasant. Miss Bingley was clearly unhappy about her brother’s marriage, but she had apparently decided that what was done was done. She still was inclined to flatter the Darcys, but as her ankle continued to be weak, they could walk away and hide in the library at any time.

But he had missed Elizabeth dreadfully and was looking forward to spending time with her today. They had seen one another at church the day before, certainly, but the Bennets had left in a rush directly afterwards – Mrs. Bennet had said loudly that there were preparations for Christmas to be completed – and thus he had not been able to speak with her.

“Shall we?” Bingley asked, pulling Darcy from his thoughts.

“Yes, of course,” he replied and reached out to take Georgiana’s arm in his own. The Bingleys led the way to the front door, which was opened by an eager footman, and down the swept steps to the Longbourn carriage, which was waiting for them.

It would only be the married Bingleys and the Darcys today; Caroline Bingley’s foot was still aching, and the Hursts had eagerly offered to keep Miss Bingley company while the others visited Longbourn. Indeed, Miss Bingley had made a point of commenting snidely about the excessive noise awaiting them at Longbourn, along with a hint that the Darcys would probably be happier at Netherfield today.

That was, of course, absurd. He could not wait to see Elizabeth, even though some small, perhaps rational, part of him wondered if he should lock himself in his bedchamber at Netherfield to ponder whether he should marry the lady he adored.

The truth was that he had done just that, pondered, and wondered, and prayed, and he still did not know for certain. All he knew was that Miss Bennet called to him like a siren, like north to a compass needle, and while he had always thought himself the master of his heart and emotions, on this occasion, it seemed he was not.

The carriage came to a halt, and Darcy looked around to discover that they had arrived at Longbourn. The door opened, and he stepped out, glancing at the snow piles heaped to either side of the carriage drive as he descended to the gravel. Jane and Charles Bingley had already stepped out ahead of him, and he turned to hand his sister down. A large flake caressed his face and he shook his head instinctively, brushing it away. Handfuls of its fellows settled lazily across hats and pelisses and greatcoats like sifted sugar, drifting down from the spinning-wool clouds above.

The shouts of children from around the house drew their attention, with delighted laughter rising like smoke in the crisp, sparkling air. Georgiana’s head canted, and she asked Jane, “Are those your cousins?”

“They are!” Jane replied, her eyes shining brightly. “Charles, do let us go speak with them a moment.”

“Of course, my love,” Bingley said, offering his arm. Darcy likewise placed Georgiana’s hand on his own forearm with a fond little pat and followed the Bingleys around the side of the house.

Darcy found himself smiling as he watched the four children – well-wrapped against the chill – packing snowballs and building snowmen with the youngest, a little boy of two or perhaps three years of age, leaping delightedly into all the drifts and laughing gleefully as the snow sprayed up into his face. Four women, also heavily clothed, lingered nearby, with their attention on the young ones.

The elder boy stood upright, packing a snowball in mittened hands, before winging it at the taller girl. But what he lacked in aim, he made up for in throwing power, and Darcy ducked to the side to avoid being hit in the face.

One of the young women had turned, following the path of the snowball, and now hurried over. Darcy had not recognized her from the back, with her scarlet hood up, but now he found himself with his breath quite stolen away. Elizabeth Bennet was radiant, with her cheeks glowing red in the cold and her eyes alight with vigorous exercise and joy.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Darcy!” Even in her apology, her voice bubbled with laughter, and he was entranced. “I fear Tommy is still learning how to throw properly. I do hope you were not terribly alarmed!”

“It is quite all right, I assure you,” he managed to say, and she smiled gratefully.

Before he could say anything else, Georgiana, to his considerable astonishment, bent down, hastily made a snowball in her gloved hands, and threw the ball at the eldest Gardiner child. There was a shriek of delight from the girl, and Tommy cheered and dove into a nearby snowbank, thrilled at the prospect of more grown-ups joining the game. Bingley laughed aloud as he packed snow, protecting his new wife with his own body as the littlest one enthusiastically pelted his much older cousin with rather remarkable skill. Georgiana was also laughing, face flushed and eyes sparkling as she darted and ran and flung snowballs.

Darcy himself was grinning as he joined vigorously in the game. He found himself delighted by the children’s earnest good cheer and their unassuming confidence that their older cousins and the visitors were enjoying the game as much as they were. Nor were they wrong – Darcy could not remember the last time Georgiana had looked so freely happy as she did now, running about in the snow.

But his eyes kept wandering back to Miss Elizabeth. It was all too easy to envision her on the snowy grounds of Pemberley, romping with several small Darcys. He had no doubt that she would make a wonderful mistress of any estate, even one as large and grand as Pemberley. She had proven her abilities with her aid in providing for the tenants of Netherfield, and he knew firsthand her prowess at holding her own in any conversation. And her beauty, he thought, as he took in the escaping curls and bright eyes and broad smile as she laughed joyously, was unparalleled.

A spark of mischief ignited within him, and he turned, throwing his next cold missile at her. She squeaked as it exploded across her pelisse, just as the kitchen door opened and a maid stepped outside onto the doorstep. “Good sirs, ladies, dinner is ready!” she called over.

Elizabeth, rather than wasting her ammunition, threw her last snow ball at Darcy. Breathless from laughing, he did not duck away in time, and it splattered white across his shoulder, but he thought it was worth it to see her exultant grin grow even wider in victory.

He took Georgiana’s arm in his own, and they made their way to the side door of Longbourn. He was panting, and his cravat was doubtless in disarray, but somehow it did not matter in the least.

/

Drawing Room

Longbourn

After Dinner

“Oh!” Lydia Bennet suddenly cried out, interrupting Darcy’s conversation with Mr. Bennet on the subject of an obscure Greek manuscript with which they were both familiar. “Oh! I think I hear singing outside!”

Elizabeth was on her feet in a moment, her face alight, and she exclaimed, “Does anyone wish to come outside with me to better enjoy the caroling? It is not so very cold!”

There was a flurry in the vestibule as the ladies donned their pelisses and the gentlemen their coats. Darcy’s eyes followed Elizabeth as she tied on her bright red hood and glanced at him, her bright eyes sparkling. He smiled back brilliantly as Bingley opened the door, stepping outside with Jane on his arm. The Misses Bennet followed him like so many ducklings, and Darcy offered his arm to Georgiana, stepping out into the nipping cold.

A heavily bundled group was approaching the back doorstep, red noses and red cheeks tucked into brown hoods and hats and coats, faces happy in the candles and lanterns carried in mittened hands. Their steps crunched through the drifted snow, handfuls of fat white flakes floating down to start filling the holes. As the gentry emerged onto the doorstep, the carolers’ smiles widened, and they sang with renewed gusto, huddling together into a warm, melodic mass. The light of their lanterns and candles spilled across the snow, turning it yellow as sunshine and edging the wreath on the door in gold.

God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen and Adeste Fideles and The First Noel and Georgiana, flushed with pleasure and uncharacteristically eager, asked, “Can you sing Joy to the World ?”

The carolers eagerly obliged, pleased with the receptive audience. Darcy’s gaze drifted from the singers to Miss Bennet. The cold receded, pushed back by the glow in his chest as he took in her bright shining eyes and the wisps of dark hair escaped from her scarlet hood and her slightly parted lips.

As the last song ended, Elizabeth stepped forward, smiling. “That was lovely,” she said enthusiastically. “If you will go around to the side door, our cook has prepared wassail and pudding for you.”

“Thank you, mum,” the lead singer replied with a deferential bow, tugging at his forelock, before leading his group around the house.

Bingley shivered and turned to open the door, handing his wife back inside and waiting as her sisters followed. Darcy gave him a brief nod before stepping in, Georgiana at his side, and relaxed a little as the door closed behind them, shutting out the cold. Bingley divested himself of his coat and pulled out his pocket watch from his waistcoat, glancing at the dial.

“I do believe it is time for us to return to Netherfield.”

Jane nodded. “Yes, it is getting quite late, and tomorrow is Christmas. Let us make our farewells to the rest of the family, and we will depart.”

Darcy, with Georgiana on his arm, obediently followed the Bingleys into the drawing room and made his courteous farewells, but most of his mind was on the previous few minutes, as he regarded Elizabeth Bennet, her eyes shining with delight, her lips parted in wonder, as the songs filling the chilled air reminded them all of the coming of the Son of God to earth.