Chapter 24
Dining Room
Two Hours Later
Caroline Bingley took a last, lingering bite of Christmas pudding and sighed happily.
Ever since Jane had assumed the position of mistress at Netherfield, the meals there had been sadly lacking.
No longer were there numerous meats and a dozen side dishes; no, Jane had decided that two main meats and six side dishes were quite enough for family dinners.
It was humiliating to sit down to such poor fare, though when she had tried to explain that to her brother, Charles had cut her off before she could speak more than a sentence.
“Netherfield requires a significant influx of money to deal with matters long neglected,” he had declared sternly. “We will not suffer for simpler meals, and Jane and I are in agreement that extra monies should be devoted to tenant cottages and poorly drained fields.”
Caroline’s cheeks flushed with indignation at the very memory.
It was absurd that she was forced to eat inadequate meals due to the needs of mere peasants.
Moreover, it was embarrassing to think of Mr. Darcy, master of a great estate, closely related to an earl, sitting down to a table with so little variety.
It was peculiar that Mrs. Bennet, who was far more vulgar than her eldest daughter, had a stronger grasp on her duties as a hostess.
Caroline had only dined at Longbourn a few times, but every time there were at least two courses, and each course contained more than a dozen dishes.
This Christmas pudding was, she admitted to herself, quite the best she had ever eaten.
She drained her goblet of wine and looked at Mrs. Bennet in anticipation, as it was time for the ladies to leave the gentlemen to their wine.
Her hostess, seated at the foot of the table, finished speaking with her vulgar sister and began to rise from her seat, only to sit back down as Mr. Bennet rose and lifted a staying hand.
“Before the ladies depart,” the master of Longbourn said, “I have an announcement to make. Earlier today, Mr. Darcy requested permission to marry my daughter Elizabeth, and I gave him my blessing. Thus, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth are now engaged to be married.”
Caroline felt her breath catch in her throat as her head turned toward Mr. Darcy who was, she had noted previously, placed next to Elizabeth at the table.
She had been annoyed but not surprised, given that Mrs. Bennet would naturally throw her most beautiful unmarried daughter at such a wealthy gentleman.
But to imagine, for even a second, that Mr. Darcy would actually offer for pert, unladylike Elizabeth Bennet. It was…
A screech to her left made her jump, and she turned toward Mrs. Bennet, who had recovered sufficiently from this shocking announcement to cry out, “Elizabeth engaged to Mr. Darcy! Oh, how blessed I am! My dear Mr. Darcy, so tall and so handsome…”
“Yes, congratulations to you both!” Jane Bingley interrupted, rather more loudly than was her wont. “I am certain you will be very happy together.”
“Truly we will,” Elizabeth said, gazing raptly at Darcy, who was staring back at her with so much obvious love in his gaze that Miss Bingley felt genuinely faint. How could this possibly be happening?
***
The Longbourn Estate
Boxing Day
“When would you like to be married?” Elizabeth asked.
Darcy chuckled and adjusted the leather reins in his hands.
The wooden bench beneath them was not entirely comfortable, and he and Elizabeth both swayed together any time they turned a corner.
Behind them, the cart was filled with crates, packed by the Bennet sisters earlier in the month.
He was not familiar with these horses, which were workhorses from Longbourn’s fields that had been brought in to help with delivery of the boxes.
Theirs was not the only wagon, of course, as two others had been taken out by manservants from the house.
Darcy was amused and pleased that the first full day of his engagement to Elizabeth consisted of the couple performing the duties of an estate master and mistress.
It seemed a confirmation and a reminder at once that Elizabeth would make an excellent Mrs. Darcy.
The previous night, he had leapt at the offer when Elizabeth had looked up at him with bright eyes and asked if he would like to come with her to deliver the boxes to the tenants.
Of course he had liked. He had always enjoyed helping deliver boxes at Pemberley when he could find the time.
It was satisfying to see the joy and gratitude of each tenant family as they received their gifts.
This year it was even more delightful, as it was also a chance to spend time with his precious Elizabeth.
Today was but a foretaste of many Boxing Days to come, and that was a blissful thought.
“When do you wish to marry?” he asked, keeping his eyes on the two horses plodding steadily down the lane that led to the first tenant house.
A slender, gloved hand appeared on his arm, and he cast his beloved a quick glance. Her cheeks were flushed with the cold, her eyes were shining, and her lips curled up in an arch smile.
“Now, now, Fitzwilliam,” she said. “I asked you first.”
Darcy grinned back at her and then turned his attention onto the unfamiliar horses; the last thing he wanted was to drive them into a tree!
“I wish to be married today, but since that cannot happen, as soon as possible,” he said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “But nor do I wish to keep you from enjoying a longer engagement if you…”
“I want to marry soon also,” Elizabeth interrupted, her grip tightening on his arm. “I love you, and I see no reason to delay the joyous occasion.”
These words, said with such simplicity, brought Darcy so much pleasure that he could not speak for a moment. When he did, all he could say was, “I love you too, Elizabeth. I adore you so very much.”
Elizabeth leaned over to plant a kiss on his cheek and said, “This Sunday is the 29th, and if we call the banns for the first time, the next Sunday will be the 5th of January, and…”
“Or,” Darcy interrupted, transferring the reins into his right hand and reaching out to take Elizabeth’s gloved hand in his own.
“Or?”
“Or, we could marry by common license, if you like.”
“Oh!” she cried out, and again he spared a glance to enjoy her beaming smile.
“Would you like that?” he asked.
“Yes, very much! My Aunt and Uncle Gardiner must return to Town soon, but if we were able to wed within the next week, I believe they could stay for that. Will the settlements take long to arrange?”
“Your Uncle Phillips is a solicitor, I believe?”
She smiled up at him. “Yes, and an excellent one.”
“Then I am confident your father and I can arrange for the settlements in the next few days, and I can send for a license. Do I turn here?”
Elizabeth gestured to the lane to the right and said, “Yes, that is the way to the Abney farm.”
The next few hours passed in a contented blur.
There were three more families after the Abneys, stalwart farmers and their sturdy wives and a passel of robust children.
Darcy’s adoration for his betrothed grew with each visit.
Elizabeth was kindly and cheerful and greeted each of the women by name as Darcy carried in the heavy crates, asking about little Michael and how Sarah was doing and Abigail was walking now, was she not?
All the farmers’ wives were gratified and apparently unsurprised at Miss Bennet’s interest in their lives.
Toddlers bounced around her knees and ragamuffins with thatched hair and broad grins showed her rag dolls and pebbles and other ordinary little treasures.
One plump little girl of perhaps two years trotted out a purring orange kitten to show off to Miss Bennet of Longbourn.
As he handed Elizabeth back up into the cart, Darcy could not help but imagine their future together. She would be an unimpeachable mistress of Pemberley, he was certain. She had been so sweet to the tenant children – he could not wait to see how she would be with their own babes.
She smiled brilliantly at him as he stepped into the now-empty cart, and he grinned back, aware of how blessed he was to have earned the hand and heart of this admirable woman.
***
Matlock House
London
27th December
Richard contemplated the greenery on the mantelpiece appreciatively.
He did not know where his mother had found leaves so glossy green or berries so unblemished, but the boughs wove skillfully around the candlesticks, which were polished until they gleamed like gold.
He reached up one hand to brush a gentle fingertip across a fir cone, relishing the spicy scent from it.
His younger sister, Rachel, sat across the room, decorous in her evening finery as she quietly played Christmas carols for the party.
The candles atop the pianoforte wavered slightly, casting a pool of amber light over the ivory keys and Rachel’s sweet face.
Their parents sat beside each other near the fire, Lord Matlock’s deep blue coat a handsome complement to his wife’s elegant emerald velvet.
It was a peaceful scene, with the exception of Lady Catherine de Bourgh’s pacing up and down the floor.
She glittered and flashed with jewels as she moved in and out of the firelight and candlelight, and Richard regarded her with amusement.
Lady Catherine’s temper was legendary among the family, but after seeing war in the Peninsula, his irascible aunt held no fear for Richard.
In this moment she reminded him of nothing so much as a strutting peacock, showing off its finery and looking down on its drabber peers with a disdainful eye.