Chapter 25
Darcy awoke early the next morning, heartened by the knowledge that it was Christmas Day.
The evening before had been all ease and comfort, with a quiet supper, card games, and carols around the hearth, and Georgiana delighting them with her performance on the pianoforte.
He rose from his bed, eager to begin the day.
Padding to the window, Darcy saw that a thin layer of snow had blanketed the grounds, though thankfully not so much that it would impede the carriage.
Darcy dressed quickly and went downstairs. The others would soon join him, for they planned to attend the Christmas service at Lambton church, then return home for a festive breakfast. But before they came down, he would take this opportunity to check on the surprise he had planned.
Going to the front door, he was glad to see that the grooms and stable boys were already hard at work preparing the carriages.
Greenery decorated the coaches, along with sprigs of holly and red berries.
Darcy smiled at the effect. Fanciful though it was to have the carriages decorated for Christmas, it was worth it, for he suspected Elizabeth would be delighted.
He did not have long to wait for her response.
Soon, the whole family was gathered in the foyer, ready to depart for the church service they would attend at the Lambton parish.
Elizabeth’s mouth dropped open in surprise and wonder.
“It’s wonderful!” She looked at him, and his heart skipped a beat at the joy spreading across her face.
“It is a most wonderful surprise, Mr Darcy, and I thank you for it,” she asked.
“It was not me, really. Thank our stable boys and grooms,” he said. Despite his nonchalant words, his chest swelled as she came to his side and grabbed his arm, pressing close to him.
She did so, and the stable boys nodded shyly at her praise. The head groom stepped forward and gave a respectful bow at the waist. “It was nothing, Mrs Darcy. We were glad to do it, and may I be so bold as to say, a merry Christmas to you.”
“Thank you, Mr Greaves,” Elizabeth said, looking rather touched. “Merry Christmas to you, and to all your family.”
Georgiana and Wickham joined them in the first carriage, while the rest of the party would take the second.
“Oh, how I am looking forward to the service this morning!” Georgiana exclaimed. “It is so long since I have been to the dear little church in Lambton. The choir is very fine.”
“Does your church in London have good musicians as well?” Elizabeth asked curiously. “Such a contrast it must be to little country churches! I cannot imagine how packed the churches are in Town.”
“Ah, I cannot say. We have not yet attended the church by our London home,” Georgiana replied. She gave a guilty smile. “We have been much distracted by setting up the new house.”
“Of course, I cannot imagine how much work it must be to establish a new home,” Elizabeth said.
While her words dispelled some of the awkwardness in the coach, Darcy was unsettled by the implications.
It had been months. Had they gone all that time without attending services?
That was Wickham’s influence, he had no doubt of it.
Georgiana had always been eager to attend.
Admittedly, he suspected she enjoyed the music more than the sermon, but still, Georgiana had hardly missed a Sunday.
The old stone church of Lambton was filled to overflowing with people coming for the Christmas service, and more beautiful than ever with its decoration of evergreen boughs.
Never had Darcy found it so easy to give thanks as with his wife and sister beside him.
Georgiana was restored to him, more dear than ever for being so nearly lost, and in better health and spirits than he could have hoped.
And Elizabeth…Darcy hardly knew how to express his growing feelings for his wife.
He was only profoundly glad that they had found each other.
The same thankfulness that was in Darcy’s heart seemed to animate the reverend’s sermon. It sang through every note of the choir, and in all the well-wishes and greetings exchanged outside the church after the service.
Upon returning to Pemberley, the party gathered in the drawing room. A late breakfast of cold meats, fruits, cheeses, and holiday desserts had been laid out. The meal was a most pleasant one, and the enjoyment of it heightened by the view of tiny snowflakes falling outside the garden windows.
“Christmas is such a wonderful time of year,” Georgiana said. “Nothing can compare for good company, warm wishes and celebration.”
“Yes, well, what I want to know is when the gifts will be brought out?” Wickham chuckled. He rubbed his hands together in jesting expectancy, wrapping an arm around Georgiana’s shoulders.
The idea was promptly seconded, and they gathered around the hearth to begin.
Georgiana received new sheet music not only from Darcy and Elizabeth, as he had already known would be the case, but from Fitzwilliam, Anne, and Lady Catherine as well.
Far from being disappointed by the repeated gift, Georgiana was overcome with gratitude.
Upon opening Elizabeth’s present, the last of all, she impulsively reached over and took her hand.
“I am undone. Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart!” she smiled.
“There is one thing more,” Darcy told her. “You cannot unwrap it today, but Elizabeth and I shall purchase a pianoforte for your home in London. It will be a perfect complement to your new music.”
Georgiana’s mouth hung agape. “You cannot be serious! Fitzwilliam, it is too much,” she breathed.
“Nonsense. When we are next in London, we will all go together, and you can have your choice of instrument.”
“You cannot do otherwise than accept,” Elizabeth added gently. “I insist on it, for I cannot bear to think of you spending many days without playing.”
Georgiana surprised everyone and immediately flung her arms around Elizabeth, hugging her close. Darcy watched them, feeling a catch in his throat. He suspected he would long remember the image of his little sister embracing his wife, and feel the same warm glow of joy each time.
Wickham’s present to his wife was a small silver necklace. But though it was not of the finest quality, nor very suited to what Darcy knew of Georgiana’s taste, she received it with unfeigned gratitude. “Oh, how darling! Thank you very much. Will you help me put it on?”
“Most gladly, my dear girl,” Wickham said smoothly, putting his arms about her neck to do up the clasps.
“There! All done. I know it is not what it should be. Hopefully, next year, I will be able to give you better things.” Most pointedly, Wickham caught and held Darcy’s gaze. “I have a feeling I will.”
The hope was rather an extraordinary one, given that Darcy had said he would be taken to a review after two years, but Darcy chose not to spoil the moment by pointing this out.
“There is no need. I am very happy with this.” Georgiana gingerly touched the pendant, as though in reverence. “It is beautiful.”
To Darcy’s surprise, Lady Catherine had unbent so far as to give Elizabeth a present, if only of a book of etiquette.
She seemed surprised to receive Elizabeth’s unstinting thanks — and upon being presented with a gift in return, even her best efforts could not hide her growing affection for her new niece by marriage.
When Elizabeth pressed her hand, he believed he even saw a tear in Lady Catherine’s eye, impossible though it seemed.
Only moments later, she was scolding Fitzwilliam for a too-boisterous joke and demanding that he show her the present he had given to Anne.
Darcy watched quietly from the hearth, his heart warmed by the show of familial affection.
It had been many long years since they had experienced a Christmas like this, surrounded by the people they loved.
In recent years, it had only been him and Georgiana at Pemberley during the holidays.
It was good to have the house filled with laughter, singing, and music.
His heart lifted when Elizabeth approached him once more, after making her rounds to make sure everyone had received the gift she had purchased for them and to wish them well on the holiday. “How are you, my dear?” he asked as she came near.
“I am very well,” she said, smiling up at him. She stood very close to him, her arm brushing against his coat sleeve. It was almost too much for him to bear. “But I wish you would not call me ‘my dear’.”
“Oh? Why not?” he asked.
“Well, it was always what my father called my mother when he was cross about something.”
He chuckled, lowering his voice. “Then what endearments am I allowed?” he asked.
“I must think about that. For now, allow me to give you your present.” She retrieved a small wrapped parcel and gave it to him, a little shyly. “Happy Christmas, Mr Darcy.”
As eagerly as a boy, Darcy began to unwrap it. When the contents were at last uncovered, he was struck silent, too deeply moved to speak. His present was simply too perfect, too thoughtful.
Too Elizabeth.
The contents of the parcel were a small painting in watercolour, of amateur skill but excellent taste, and so carefully drawn and coloured that the subject was immediately clear.
It depicted one of his favourite walks in the gardens, on the border of the woods, in the full flush of autumn colour.
With a sudden thrill of certainty, Darcy knew it had become a favourite to Elizabeth, too.
“Do you like it?” she asked, a little shyly.
“Very much,” Darcy told her, willing his eyes to express what he could not say in words before so many people.
“I am glad,” she said simply.
“You painted it yourself, did you not?”
“Yes, I did,” she answered. “Which is why it is not up to par. However, I thought it would be a more meaningful gift if I did it myself, rather than commissioning someone more qualified,” Elizabeth added with a chuckle.