Chapter 7
HONEST
It was very nearly painful for Darcy and Elizabeth to separate after breakfast for Christmas Day services in their separate parishes. When their families returned, still yawning with fatigue from the late evening prior, Darcy felt distinctly odd to be suddenly filled with energy instead.
It was her presence that had him so invigorated.
There was no object brighter in his eye than Elizabeth, nothing more enticing than her company.
Although Darcy longed to make some excuse to walk out with her, her slightly wan cheeks were enough to convince him to yield to better wisdom.
He instead addressed his houseguests and invited them all to partake of some refreshments, then seek rest or quiet employments before the evening feast.
He contented himself with standing next to Elizabeth at the sideboard and filling a plate for her as if they were already enjoying a banquet.
“You will overfeed me,” she whispered, tipping a little of her bounty onto his plate.
“I cannot have you wasting away, for who else will defend me against Miss Bingley?” he quipped. Elizabeth’s shocked laugh was worth the stare it drew from her sisters.
Yet as misfortune would have it, Darcy’s joke was not far off the mark.
When Miss Bingley and the Hursts arrived just ahead of the Gardiner family a few hours later, Miss Bingley’s frosty manner was worse than the wintry chill out of doors.
She had merely nodded at her brother, curtseyed briefly in response to the welcome from Darcy and his sister, and greeted the Bennets—including Miss Bennet—with the barest civility.
Darcy had witnessed enough of Mrs Bennet’s moods to recognise the challenging smile the matron now wore in response to such a display. He braced himself and watched Elizabeth grow equally alert.
“And how did you spend your Christmas Eve with Mr and Mrs Hurst, Miss Bingley?” asked Mrs Bennet with determined good cheer. “I hope you made a very merry party.”
“Quite,” replied Miss Bingley briskly. “And your family? I had thought to see you all at services this morning with the Darcys at St George’s, but perhaps a late evening of festivities kept you abed.”
“We attended this morning at my brother’s parish,” replied Mrs Bennet with a proud look. “It is always charming to visit there with the name we bear.”
Miss Bingley had the effrontery to laugh. “Oh! Did you attend St Benet’s? Is that not somewhere over by the docks?”
“It is closer to the river, yes,” Elizabeth replied for her mother. She glanced at Mr Bingley and her sister and added meaningfully, “Perhaps you might visit it someday.”
When Mr and Mrs Gardiner arrived and their four charming children had made their little bows and curtseys, Darcy was grateful for the innocent distraction of their presence. He produced a flat box tied with a bow and asked Mr and Mrs Gardiner for permission to present it to the children.
The parents easily gave their approval, and Darcy tasked their eldest lad with opening the parcel.
The younger Gardiners crowded round curiously. “Is it some sort of game, Mr Darcy?” asked the elder boy.
At Darcy’s nod, Georgiana came forwards and knelt by the children.
“It is a peg game, and you might know it as ‘Fox and Geese’, though I have heard it called by other names. I can teach you how to play if you would like,” she offered.
Their eagerness was answer enough, and their delight in setting up the game entertained the room until Mr Hainsbrook called them in to dine.
Darcy’s capable cook and her efficient kitchen assistants had outdone themselves.
The footmen brought in a seemingly never-ending banquet: an entire flank of roast boar, a splendid roast goose with all the trimmings, mince pies and apples in spiced black butter, and savoury salads mounded high filled the table, followed by assortments of hot-house fruit.
Then, with an air befitting some pomp and ceremony, two footmen paraded in a magnificent plum pudding crowned with bright holly.
They set down the weighty dish with such care and exertion that the children clapped and cheered.
Even Hurst roused himself to stamp his feet on the floor in appreciation for such a fine finale to their feast.
Darcy and Georgiana rose together and called for all the kitchen servants to witness the applause.
Darcy then toasted their efforts with a raised glass.
As they bowed and curtseyed and looked a little abashed at the recognition, Darcy reminded them to visit his study on the morrow for their Boxing Day gifts.
After the servants filed out in good cheer, Darcy was moved to see that Bingley had stood to raise another toast. “To Mr and Miss Darcy,” he said, “for a wonderful Christmas feast and for their hospitality. Long may the friendship between our families continue.”
“Hear, hear,” added Mr Bennet with uncharacteristic enthusiasm. The Gardiners likewise raised their glasses, and they all drank.
Darcy raised his glass again. “I would be remiss if I did not also toast the happy couple. May your forthcoming nuptials be a blessing, and many happy years besides. To Mr Bingley and Miss Bennet.”
“Hear, hear!” hollered Miss Lydia, if only to make her eldest sister’s pleased blush deepen in hue.
“And,” added Miss Bingley, rising and cutting her eyes towards the youngest Bennet’s display, “may you never come to regret your choice.”
The colour drained from Miss Bennet’s face.
An awkward hush followed as Miss Bingley sat down with a small lift of satisfaction on her lips at having gained the last word.
Darcy’s blood heated in borrowed offence, and he was on the verge of rising again to rescue back the blessings of the toast when Elizabeth, his brave Elizabeth, stood with her glass raised.
“May you never heed an unkind word but let your love disarm unkindness itself,” she offered, her eyes flashing only briefly towards Miss Bingley.
They all drank, and Bingley gave Elizabeth a grateful grin. Miss Bingley looked as though her wine was sour.
After a moment’s deliberation, Georgiana moved towards the pudding. She removed the sprigs of holly and declared her desire to begin serving, which everyone eagerly welcomed.
“A fair warning,” she told their guests, “at Darcy House, we do place a few trinkets in the pudding at Christmas, so have a care with your teeth.”
It was not long before Miss Catherine uncovered the first one—a coin. “Look at that!” she declared. “I am to come into fortune!”
One of the Gardiner children found the thimble and held it out with large-eyed wonder.
“For cleverness and thrift,” explained Mrs Gardiner.
“I do hope I shall find the ring,” said Miss Lydia, digging through her own piece. “But it is far more likely that Mr Bingley or Jane will find it instead. After all, they are getting married first thing in the coming year.”
“No,” said Elizabeth, smiling brightly. “I have it.” She held aloft the little golden band.
“What happy tidings,” sneered Miss Bingley. “Pray tell, Miss Eliza, when shall I wish you joy?”
Elizabeth’s expression hardened for an instant, and Darcy watched in fascination as it transformed into mischief. She glanced his way, and he grinned, all promises of secrecy forgotten. “Very soon, I hope,” he answered with emphasis.
Miss Bingley’s fork fell from her hand, and Bingley shouted in delight. The rest of the table came quickly to their feet, exclaiming in wonder, offering congratulations, and plying them with earnest questions, until Darcy begged leave to have a moment alone with Mr Bennet.
It was indeed rather soon—mere weeks after the Bingleys’ wedding—when Darcy and Elizabeth took their vows and escaped to Pemberley.
In the years to come, the celebrations at Christmastide would always hold special significance for them both.
But performing a play on Christmas Eve became an honoured annual tradition for Mr and Mrs Darcy, who welcomed the gifts good characters bring to any stage.
Gailie Ruth Caress is a lifelong adaptive dabbler from Indiana who has explored everything from opera and ballroom dance to educational marketing and ministry alongside her pastor husband. Writing has always been her joy; crafting Fearful Symmetry, her first novel fulfilled a lifelong dream.