6

Two tenant families, the Martins and the Cranes, arrived at Longbourn just after sundown. They were both large and lively families, with enough rowdy children, spinster sisters, and sundry cousins to fill the manor with merry noise.

Mr. Martin had always been a favorite of Elizabeth’s, fit in his faculties if not in physical strength, for he had been all wispy white hair and wrinkles since she was a girl. He was full of japes and winks, and his wife, who was no more than thirty, was as practical and pragmatic a woman as Elizabeth had ever known. Mrs. Martin’s two cousins resided with them; the former was brawny and helpful on the farm, though his conversion was rather like that of the young Martin children, and the latter was a handsome, charming fellow who might have been the scourge of every daughter’s father in the village were it not for his devout wish to join the church.

The Cranes were among the most popular tenants as well, all of them well built and sensible folk who had farmed Longbourn land for generations. Mr. Crane was a protege of old Mr. Martin; his wife was a cousin of Mrs. Hill, and seemed to be perpetually with child. Mr. Crane had a pair of spinster sisters who had long repined that Mrs. Martin’s cousins, the brothers Bowden, were not quite suitable prospects, and each of them let out a little sigh when they set eyes on Mr. Darcy’s handsome valet, Wilson.

Wilson, in turn, had devoted himself to assisting Mrs. Hill and her fetching daughter Alice, who intended to divide their time between serving and socializing at the strange soiree. Even Johnny Hill had been brought upstairs after hours of chopping vegetables, his injured ankle propped up on a footstool as he listened to Mr. Martin’s stories - many of which were purely invention - and stared agog at Georgiana.

Though Mrs. Hill’s initial impulse had been to shoot first and ask questions later, she had been persuaded to contribute as best she could to Elizabeth’s plan. She habitually assisted the cook, who had gone to Stevenage to visit relations, and Mrs. Hill now enjoyed absolute sovereignty in the kitchen. An abundance of simple but savory dishes and enough sweets to ensure the children would run wild for hours had been laid out as a buffet.

Mrs. Hill urged everybody to make up a plate for themselves and eat wherever they liked. Elizabeth reassured her guests that they would not stand upon ceremony. “Think of it like a picnic, only warm and cozy indoors! There are fires lit in the parlors and enough places to sit comfortably all together,”

she told them, hoping the noise of their merriment would disperse about the house and out the windows that had been left a little open.

The Martins and the Cranes were effusive in their thanks and enthusiastic in their appetites, and Elizabeth was eminently satisfied with the proceedings. It had only been four hours since they had concocted their scheme to convince the rogue officers that the Bennets had returned to Longbourn, and even Elizabeth and the Darcys had done their part in preparing the feast that appeared as if it had taken weeks of planning. Elizabeth sipped at her wine as she watched her guests sampling every delight, relishing the recollection of Mr. Darcy in his shirtsleeves, stirring like his life depended on it as Mrs. Hill lamented that the broth for the ragout was far too thin.

As if sensing her gaze upon him, Mr. Darcy came to stand at her side, glass of Madeira in hand. “When I return to Pemberley, my first order of business shall be increasing the wages of all my kitchen staff,”

he said with a twinkle in his eye.

Elizabeth was already feeling the effects of her wine, for she had cooked a great deal and consumed very little of the food. She beamed at Mr. Darcy before letting out a breathy laugh, for ever since she had learned of his affection for her, she had seen naught but kindness and generosity in his character. She had never imagined him to be an indulgent elder brother, a man capable of valiant rescues, impassioned arguments, tender embraces, and charming attempts at manual labor.

“This may be further inducement for your sister to apply her talent for baking biscuits,”

Elizabeth teased. “See how she glows at all the praise of her confections - I confess I rather envy her, for nobody has commended my excellent boiled potatoes as the exemplary vegetable they are.”

Mr. Darcy’s lips twitched upward before he softly replied, “She looks so wonderfully happy.”

His gaze lingered on Georgiana long enough for Elizabeth to understand that stare, which she had often seen directed at herself and mistaken for something colder and crueler. But now, standing so close to him, Elizabeth perceived tenderness in his eyes; after what Georgiana had told her, Elizabeth felt in her core that the powerful emotions had always been there. She had been terribly, willfully blind.

And then he turned, directing that intensity at her without restraint. His eyes glistened and he smiled in earnest. “It has been too long since I have seen her shine so brightly. I believe I have you to thank for that.”

“You have me to thank for endangering her,”

Elizabeth said ruefully. She fidgeted, unaccustomed to such warmth and candor from him. The effusive overtures of friendship from Georgiana has easily won Elizabeth over, but her worry over the looming peril suddenly began to shade her enjoyment of the evening. Georgiana had been so eager to make her acquaintance, and Mr. Darcy had apparently always been fond of her - and she was repaying their good opinion by dragging them into harm’s way.

Mr. Darcy appeared to comprehend her shift in sentiments. “You have more to offer her than you realize, and I do not speak only of your friendship,”

he whispered, moving a little nearer. “I intend to do what I ought to have done years ago, and bring Mr. Wickham’s devious debauchery to a just end. This is why I sent word to my cousin Richard, and I know it would bring Georgiana peace of mind.”

Elizabeth caught herself leaning toward him; she had suspected there was more to be known beyond what Georgiana had said of Mr. Wickham in the carriage, that she had not yet learned the full depth of how wrong she had been about that blackguard and Mr. Darcy. It now seemed that one had all the goodness, and the other all the appearance of it.

But before Mr. Darcy could say more, Georgiana came bounding up to them, buoyantly demanding to know if Elizabeth enjoyed playing duets, which ones she knew best, and whether Elizabeth would join her at the pianoforte at once. With a little encouragement from Mr. Darcy, Elizabeth was happy to acquiesce, and selected a piece she could perform with pride. Vain creature that she was, she wished Mr. Darcy to think well of her performance.

She was rewarded with a look of glowing approbation from him after their performance, and Georgiana gleefully embraced her, blushing from all the applause. Mrs. Annesley offered to play a jig for them, insisting there was space enough for a few couples to dance in the largest parlor. Enough wine had flowed for the whole party to agree, Mrs. Hill loudest of all. Johnny looked wistfully in Georgiana’s direction before sighing over his injured ankle, while Mr. Martin cheerfully insisted he was far too old for the frivolities of youth. His wife stood up with her pious cousin, Mr. and Mrs. Crane joined the dance next, Wilson offered his hand to Alice, and then the two Miss Cranes laughingly stood up together.

Elizabeth had just taken a seat beside Mr. Darcy, intent on continuing a debate over Shakespeare they had begun in the kitchen. But he stood, a heated look on his visage as he gave a deep bow of his head and asked Elizabeth to dance with him.

She nearly declined, glancing about with the intention of playfully partnering his sister, until Georgiana pointedly offered her hand to ten-year-old Maggie Martin. Elizabeth laughed at finding her deflection thwarted, and turned round to look up at Mr. Darcy. Her laughter ebbed away, replaced by something heady and exhilarative. “You would stand up with farmers and servants,”

she murmured.

“I would, and you must allow me the great honor, for I cannot bear a third refusal from you,”

he whispered back.

She placed her bare hand in his, feeling a galvanic jolt course through her body - or perhaps it was only the wine. As they joined the dancing, she looked askance at him. “A third?”

“You insisted you would not dance with me at Lucas Lodge, despite Sir William’s encouragement, and I wished you to dance a reel with me when you and your sister stayed at Netherfield, but you were engrossed in a book.”

Elizabeth laughed as they began spinning in time with their companions. “On the first occasion I thought you meant to vex me, and on the second I thought you only wished to disoblige Miss Bingley.”

He barked out a laugh. “I do not often dance, but when I do, I hope it is for the sake of giving pleasure, and not displeasure.”

“I should hardly say it is a punishment to stand up with you,”

Elizabeth said with a wicked grin. “You are a perfectly tolerable partner.”

Confusion and mild offense flickered across Mr. Darcy’s countenance before comprehension struck him. “Good God,”

he groaned. He tugged at her hand, drawing her away from the dance with a look of dismay. “You heard me. I said those horrid things before I had even truly looked at you, and you heard me. I cannot begin to apologize as eloquently as you deserve, but you must know I truly hold no such opinions.”

This was a lengthy speech for the taciturn Mr. Darcy, and Elizabeth could not resist smiling at the sight of him so flustered. “You are not the only one who has behaved badly in a ballroom, sir. I am ashamed of how I spoke to you when last we danced. Mr. Wickham told me things about you that I am now certain must be scandalous falsehoods, not only because of what I have learned of his true character, but what I have seen of yours.”

Mr. Darcy opened his mouth to speak, but for a moment he only gaped at her. And then he captured her hand, raised it to his lips, and kissed it.

The reeling dancers spun closer to them, and Georgiana reached out to tug at her brother’s sleeve. He gave a breathy laugh, and then pulled Elizabeth back into the dance with an apologetic shrug of his shoulders she may have imagined.

The festivities continued for hours, the unlikely assortment of companions playing games, laughing, and dancing in a tipsy and joyous commotion. The feast was devoured, a few Christmas carols were discordantly sung, and Mrs. Martin, Mrs. Crane, and Mrs. Hill each took a turn telling increasingly mortifying tales of Elizabeth’s youth to the delight of all the others, the Darcys most of all.

Just as her guests began to take their leave, Elizabeth was beckoned to the window by Mrs. Hill, who had pulled back the curtain to gaze out at the snow glowing bright under the full moon. In the distance were three retreating riders on horseback. “They were here - they saw,”

Elizabeth cried. “Our plan has worked!”

She spun around, only to find that it was no longer Mrs. Hill standing beside her, but Mr. Darcy. Half-sprung, relieved, and exhausted from so much merriment, Elizabeth threw her arms around him.