Chapter 24
When Elizabeth opened her eyes on Christmas Eve day, she blinked several times, looking about her in confusion. There was a strange quality to the light in her room.
No sooner was she fully awake than she understood, and a smile tugged at her lips. Snow! That was the strange, soft, bright, peaceful quality of sunlight hidden behind a blizzard of tiny flakes — and it also explained the thick silence that lay over the house.
Breakfast was a cheery affair. Elizabeth looked about her, feeling full of goodwill for everyone.
How lucky she was! From her husband, who was proving to be so much more than she could have ever guessed, to Georgiana, now almost another sister to her.
Even Mr Wickham was proving to be more pleasant than she had feared.
There were some things about his behaviour that were a little odd, to be sure, but no doubt it was the strain of being at Pemberley, in so difficult a social situation.
With luck, next year would see them all far more confident in his worthiness, and in Georgiana’s happiness.
After breakfast, Elizabeth made her excuses and returned to her room to put the final touches on her Christmas presents. As she intended to give tokens to the staff as well as to her family, there was a considerable amount to do.
The result was rather good, even if she said so herself. Thankfully, Elizabeth did not have to.
“Everything is so grand, Mrs Darcy,” Stephans said, her tone full of wonder. “The servants will be stunned when they open these. I know I am.”
“Thank you, Stevens,” Elizabeth said with a merry laugh. “I am glad to hear it. And you must excuse me for spoiling the surprise in your case, but I cannot very well do without you.”
Stevens, who had gradually come to believe that her mistress valued warmth over formality, laughed with her. “Thank you, Mrs Darcy. I am very glad that you would say so.”
Elizabeth gave her a nod of acknowledgement. “Now, we must go about wrapping them.” She looked up at the little clock that sat on her mantel. “Would you retrieve the brown paper and ribbons —”
A brisk knock on her door interrupted her. Elizabeth cocked her head to the side. “Now, who could that be? I will go out into the hall and see who it is. Hide the presents away for me, and we will wrap them later.”
Likely it was Lady Catherine with another lesson, Elizabeth thought.
She was not precisely sorry that she had refused Mr Darcy’s offer to send his aunt away.
Just as she hoped, she had gained a great deal of ground with Lady Catherine.
Even better, she had begun to find some things to admire in her difficult relation by marriage.
Elizabeth liked to think the feeling was mutual.
Still, there was a part of her that was looking forward to the day Lady Catherine returned to Rosings Park and left her in peace, even if she had learned a great deal from her aunt by marriage.
Elizabeth smiled to herself as she went to answer the door.
In the case of her marriage and how to carry out her duties as a wife, she had learned a great deal of what not to do from Lady Catherine.
“Oh! Mr Wickham, it is you,” Elizabeth gasped in surprise when she opened the door and saw him waiting for her. “A very good day to you.” She slipped through the door and closed it behind her, keeping her hands firmly clasped on the doorknob behind her back.
“You look surprised to see me,” he remarked.
“I was expecting Lady Catherine,” Elizabeth explained. “Please excuse my lack of composure. I assure you, it was not out of any displeasure at seeing you.”
“Not at all,” he smiled. “Perhaps it is even somewhat of a relief, hmm?” He gave her a conspiratorial wink. “But perhaps I ought to leave, if you are expecting her.”
“No, we have no appointment,” Elizabeth told him. She indulged herself with a small laugh. “I half expect her to be waiting around every corner and behind every drape, simply to check up on whether I am performing my duties here at Pemberley to her satisfaction.”
“It is my humble opinion that you are doing a splendid job without her lessons,” he smiled. “I would not be worried about Lady Catherine’s opinion, for she always has something condescending to say, no matter how well one’s duties are dispensed.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Thank you for your vote of confidence, sir.” She looked at him curiously, wondering what had brought Mr Wickham to her door. He did not seem to be there merely for an idle chat. “Is there something I can do for you, Mr Wickham?”
“I wondered if you might take a walk with me? I should welcome the company — and, well, sometimes it is easier to bring up what is on one’s mind when one walks.”
“Certainly,” Elizabeth said in surprise. He seemed to imply that he had something of a serious and even delicate nature to impart. “Perhaps we might walk through the portrait gallery, if that suits you. We may each admire the paintings of our respective spouses.”
“And so we shall,” Mr Wickham agreed, chuckling at her minor witticism. “That would be most enjoyable.” He offered her his arm, and they fell into step together.
“You have done a fine job settling in as mistress of Pemberley, Mrs Darcy,” Mr Wickham praised her as they walked. “You are the perfect hostess, attentive and kind. Georgiana can speak of little else, save for how grateful she is to have a sister such as you.”
Elizabeth smiled. “Your wife is a very dear woman. I am glad she thinks of me as a sister.”
“Indeed, we both do. But I also see you as a friend and ally.”
Elizabeth glanced at him, startled. It was an odd choice of words. “An ally, Mr Wickham? I do not quite follow your meaning. But of course I should like to help you, if I can.”
Stepping into the portrait gallery, they stopped before the portrait of a long-ago Darcy who, to judge by his clothes, must have held Pemberley in the time of Queen Anne.
His face was handsome, with a strong jawline and noble brow, but his expression was entirely unsmiling.
Elizabeth looked at the painting more closely, wondering why she liked it so very much.
Was there not something kind about the eyes, and something intelligent in the set of the face?
“There is a strong family resemblance, is there not?” Wickham asked her, but went on without waiting for a reply. “Unfortunately, we are in great need of an ally at the moment. May I speak plainly with you, dear sister Elizabeth?”
“You must use your judgement,” Elizabeth told him, feeling unaccountably wary.
“You know of the circumstances of my wedding to Georgiana, do you not? And you therefore know of the delicate situation I find myself in with my brother-in-law?”
“I do,” Elizabeth said. “But if this is plain speaking, Mr Wickham, I am sorry to say that I do not yet understand your meaning.”
“Yes, of course.” He sighed and shrugged. “Georgiana’s father set aside a dowry for her, which was to provide for her after her marriage. Nor is this an inconsequential amount — quite the contrary. Georgiana was always meant to have thirty thousand pounds after her marriage.”
“Yes, I am aware of the fact,” she replied.
“Well, that is just it. The dowry has not been released to her, and we have been married for nearly six months.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “Your frustration is understandable, Mr Wickham, but this is surely something to be discussed between yourself, Georgiana, and Mr Darcy. I can have nothing to do with it.”
“No, far from it,” Mr Wickham said fervently. “You do so well at manoeuvring your husband. Take the invitation you were able to procure for Georgiana and me, for instance. You must know how grateful we are.”
“You need not be,” Elizabeth told him honestly. “I made the suggestion to my husband because I thought it best for his happiness, and for Georgiana’s. You owe me nothing.”
“Even so, you made the suggestion, and you convinced him to follow it. I have never known anyone to convince Darcy of anything. Certainly, I cannot.” He hesitated, stopping before a large, dark oil painting of a gentleman on a rearing horse.
“I am appealing to you, Mrs Darcy, to speak to your husband on our behalf. Convince him to release to Georgiana what is rightfully hers.”
Elizabeth let out a slow, controlled breath. “I hope I am not one to ‘manoeuvre’ anyone, as you said. I speak as I find.”
“I did not mean to offend. Of course, you would never dream of manipulating anyone. You are too good. However, a gentle word from his wife might convince him to see his way clear to releasing the funds.”
If anyone had a propensity for manoeuvring, Elizabeth thought with annoyance, it was certainly Mr Wickham.
It was all too clear that he wished her to do his bidding, regardless of her own judgement.
“I am sorry, Mr Wickham, but I do not think it is my place to intervene. You must speak to him, or Georgiana must speak to him, if you find the present plan unsuitable. I cannot say that it is. Surely the monthly allotment is sufficient?”
For a moment only, Elizabeth saw him clench his hands into fists.
But Mr Wickham’s self-control was admirable, and when he spoke, his voice was as gentle and friendly as ever.
“It is the principle of the thing, Mrs Darcy. That money rightly belongs to my wife. Georgiana ought to have received the whole of the dowry upon her marriage, not as a monthly stipend.”
Footsteps echoed behind them, and they both turned at once to see Mr Darcy walking through the gallery in their direction. Mr Wickham took a step back and bowed, his expression turning serious, even grave. “Good afternoon, Darcy,” he said with a formal air.
“Good afternoon,” he replied. Neither of them looked happy to see the other.
Elizabeth stepped in. “Is everything well?”
“Yes, of course,” her husband turned slowly. “I thought you would be in the throes of preparations for the festivities this evening.”