Pemberley Mistletoe

by Bray, Ayr

  “You shall do no such thing,” Lady Catherine yelled. “What right do you have to go meddling in my husband’s affairs?”

  “I am not meddling, Catherine, I am protecting the rights and interests of your daughter. I am convinced any father who loved his daughter as Lewis did would be happy that another family member is looking out for her. I am confident we will get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, all of you are to remain here. No one, and I mean no one,” he looked directly at Anne, “is to leave Pemberley until we have some answers. Now, sister, you go to your room while I write my letters. I will come up to speak with you before supper.”

  Lady Catherine began to object, but decided to hold her tongue when she saw her brother’s angry expression. It was rare James Fitzwilliam, Earl of Matlock, ever angered, but those who had seen him in such a state knew to avoid it a second time.

  Lord Matlock, James, Richard, and Fitzwilliam all hastened to Fitzwilliam’s study. Anne watched them depart, eager to know what they would do. Richard gave her a look she which understood to mean he would advocate their right to marry.

  Richard could no longer hold his tongue as they entered Fitzwilliam’s study. “Insufferable presumption! Is she really so unfeeling as to deny Anne her chance at happiness all because of a pedigree?”

  Lord Matlock looked at his son. “Yes, she is. She denied herself love in exchange for wealth and comfort; why should she not do the same to her daughter?”

  “She may very well destroy her own happiness, but I refuse to let her to ruin Anne’s. Hell, if she destroys Anne’s happiness, she destroys mine, too. Father, I love Anne. I have for many years now. You must help us find a way to marry or we will elope. We have already discussed it. We would rather face the censure of society and our family than live our lives apart.”

  “Now, now, let us not be so hasty. Am I to presume the two of you have come to a formal understanding?” Lord Matlock asked his son.

  “Yes, we have. We were going to tell everyone on Christmas Day. Father, I love her, and she loves me. Please, I cannot lose her. We must figure this out.”

  “Very well, we shall. I just needed to know how far I should fight Catherine on this. I would hate to take her to task over it if the two of you were not sincere. If you are serious, then I will not let up until the two of you are married.” Lord Matlock looked sternly at his son. “Properly married! I will not hear of my son eloping at Gretna Green. Am I understood?”

  “Yes, I understand you perfectly, and I have no objection so long as we get to marry.” Richard became very serious as he offered his father his heartfelt thanks.

  Lord Matlock gave his son an encouraging smile and sat at Fitzwilliam’s desk. He drafted letters to everyone he considered useful in their present situation: the steward of Rosings Park, Sir Lewis de Bourgh’s solicitor, his own solicitor, and his own steward.

  “There, it is done. Fitzwilliam, would you have your man send these letters to the express post in Lambton?”

  Fitzwilliam called immediately for the butler. Handing the man the letters and some coins, he gave instructions which the man followed at once.

  Once the door closed behind the butler, Lord Matlock breathed a sigh of release and said, “I know it is late and only a day from the beginning of the Christmas festivities, but perhaps the letters can be delivered tomorrow and we may have some answers by the beginning of next week.”

  No one answered him; there was nothing else to do but wait.

  The past week had been spent in constant movement. Hardly a dull moment was to be had at Pemberley. The entire party, except Lady Catherine, had found entertainment to enjoy.

  Fitzwilliam saw to it that sleigh rides were available daily, and the household staff made sure to keep roaring fires in the grates. The children spent much of their time running in and out of the manor all day, making snowmen, snow angels, and getting thoroughly wet and dirty as children do.

  Although the week had begun with constant bickering amongst the houseguests and the addition of Lady Catherine had put everyone on edge, it was all turning out well enough. Perhaps everyone remembered the reason for the season, and was determined to get along for at least two days. Elizabeth could hope.

  Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth were attempting their first melding of Christmas traditions, and with so many in attendance it would be amusing to see how it would turn out. Everyone had an opinion about how the festivities should proceed, and few were keeping their opinions to themselves.

  Christmas Eve supper was a light repast. All day the family had been nibbling on various treats that Mrs. Lacroix had provided, and hardly anyone had any appetite at all. After supper there was no separation of the men to the library, but rather everyone met in the drawing room for the commencement of the evening’s festivities.

  “My dear family,” Fitzwilliam addressed everyone as they took their seats around the room, “I cannot tell you how blessed we are to all be gathered here in the warmth of Pemberley during this beautiful but cold Christmas season.”

  “Hear, hear!” resounded around the room as everyone agreed.

  Elizabeth walked to the little table near the fireplace where the Yule log was nestled and picked it up. She respectfully carried it to Fitzwilliam, who took it in his hands and addressed the party again. “Please join me as I say a prayer over this Yule log for a bountiful year to come.”

  Fitzwilliam bowed his head as Elizabeth linked her arm through his. The rest of the room joined them and listened as Fitzwilliam offered a heartfelt and wonderful prayer for the health and safety of everyone in the room, their household, the manor, the crops, the livestock, and the tenants. Everyone was blessed, no one was forgotten, and when he completed his prayer Elizabeth had to wipe a tear from her cheek as he placed the log in the center of the fireplace and lit it.

  Turning to his uncle, Fitzwilliam asked, “Uncle, will you start us off on a round of toasts?” A few servants had been standing around the room with trays of wine and cider. At his request, the drinks were served to every member of the party.

  “I would be honoured, my boy,” Lord Matlock replied as he stood and joined Fitzwilliam near the fire.

  Elizabeth resumed her seat near her mother just in time to hear her grumbling to her father. “Why should he ask Lord Matlock over you? You are his father-in-law; it is not as if his own father is here to ask. It should be you making the toast.” She cringed at her mother’s base remarks. She was, of course technically correct; however, Lord Matlock had stood in as Fitzwilliam’s surrogate father for the past several years. Her mother had no right to question Fitzwilliam’s choice.

  Lady Catherine heard the remark and could not pass up the opportunity to slight the Bennet family. “My nephew, of course, understands the distinction of rank. I am sure that is why he has asked his uncle, the Earl, to offer the first toast.”

  Mrs. Bennet was visibly angered at Lady Catherine’s remarks, and Elizabeth feared she or Fitzwilliam would have to step between the two to break up an argument. Mr. Bennet slightly raised his hand to stop his wife’s censure of her ladyship’s comment. He leaned close to his wife’s ear and whispered to her.

  No one knew what was said, but Mrs. Bennet’s face softened and then she patted Mr. Bennet’s knee, as she did when she most heartily agreed with him. Elizabeth could only assume he had told her no one cared what Lady Catherine said, so it was not worth arguing with her. Perhaps he even mentioned it was his suggestion that Lord Matlock make the toast out of respect to his position. The statement would have been at least mostly true.

  Long before this evening had taken place, Elizabeth had spoken to her father and explained that Fitzwilliam was going to ask Lord Matlock to offer the first toast after the Yule log had been lit. Her father well understood and was not offended in any way. Though he was the only living patriarch to the couple and well within his right to demand he be the first to offer a toast, he understood Lord Matlock was as close to Fitzwilliam’s father as another could be. The man did outr
ank him, and allowing him to offer the toast would likely silence Lady Catherine, which was something everyone longed for.

  It worked, almost.

  With Lord Matlock’s toast complete, Mr. Bennet and Fitzwilliam took the opportunity to offer toasts of their own, as did James, Richard, and Charles. Elizabeth was exceedingly pleased with the evening; everyone was in a most amiable mood.

  Looking at the children sitting on the floor next to the Christmas tree, Elizabeth pondered the possibility that next year she may very well be expecting, or even have her own child to enjoy the season with. Nothing would bring her more joy than to bless Pemberley with the pitter-patter of little feet.

  Elizabeth and Fitzwilliam had frequently spoken about their future plans for the expansion of their family. They both looked upon the day with eager anticipation and delight.

  Roslynd stood while Elizabeth was still admiring the children. “Come, children, it is very late. We must get you to bed so that you can enjoy all of tomorrow’s activities.”

  “Oh, Mother, must we? I want to stay up and have some more cider,” James protested, but he stood obediently.

  “Yes, you must. Come, follow me.”

  “Hugs first! We must have our hugs,” Evelyn declared.

  The three young children took their time going around the room giving everyone a bedtime hug. They barely hesitated at Lady Catherine, looking at her cold face before quickly wrapping their arms around her. She patted their heads with the tips of her fingers, acting as if they had the plague, but still she accepted their sweet tokens of love and affection. By the time they finally finished, they were testing their mother’s patience.

  “Jane, when you have children, do make sure they are as adorable as those three,” Mrs. Bennet began. “Lizzy, I do hope your children will be attractive as well, but if they are anything like you I doubt they will be. You were always one to run around, going hither and thither. Why, you were always getting so much mud on your stockings that I never could keep you presentable. You always had a scraped knee or torn dress, and heaven forbid your hair stayed in place longer than half an hour.”

  “Yes, well … Darcy, what is the plan for tomorrow?” Mr. Bennet tried to interrupt his wife’s criticism which was obviously upsetting to his second daughter and her husband. Looking towards Lady Catherine’s malicious grin, he feared his wife was offering the woman additional fodder against his most beloved daughter.

  “Oh yes, my dear Mr. Darcy, what is the plan for tomorrow?” It appeared as if his wife’s attention had been at least momentarily redirected from her previous topic.

  “I think we will begin the morning with the Christmas breakfast, then we will all gather with the Pemberley tenants and staff, and finally we will open our gifts. In the afternoon, I have a surprise for everyone.”

  “A surprise,” Mrs. Bennet screeched as a murmur of excitement spread around the room.

  “Fitzwilliam, have you planned what we did last year?” Georgiana timidly asked.

  He pressed his finger to his lips as if it was a secret and winked at her. She giggled with excitement then exclaimed to Mary and Kitty sitting near her, “Oh, what fun we shall have. I promise you will love it.” Already the girls were excited, begging Georgiana to give them any hint she could about the surprise.

  Pressing her lips together tightly in a show of not saying a word, she continued to tease them. The three girls loved every minute of it.

  “Oh, you cruel man, why do you tease us so? I never could enjoy a surprise. You had better tell us now,” Mrs. Bennet chided.

  “No, you must wait until tomorrow. I promise it will be well worth it.”

  The evening was waning and already most of the party had dispersed. Georgiana, Mary, and Kitty were in Georgiana’s rooms, where giggling and female chatter could be heard well into the night. Mr. and Mrs. Bennet sat in the corner near the fire. Mrs. Bennet dozed while her husband read one of the many books he had found of interest in the Pemberley library.

  Fitzwilliam and Elizabeth sat near Lord and Lady Matlock, and though Elizabeth was just becoming acquainted with her new family, she was quickly coming to love Fitzwilliam’s favourite uncle and aunt. Roslynd returned after the children were in bed, but she soon became frustrated with Lady Catherine’s views on the proper methods to raise children. She and James soon retired to their rooms for the evening, leaving Lady Catherine to turn her attention to the others.

  Anne and Richard had settled in the farthest corner of the room, out of Lady Catherine’s direct line of sight. Anne had hoped they would be forgotten, but as soon as James and Roslynd had left, her mother no longer had occupation and turned her attention to her daughter. “Anne, you will come to me at once,” Lady Catherine demanded.

  Anne rolled her eyes at Richard, indicating her derision for her mother, but she stood and walked to her side. Sitting near her, Anne was instantly subjected to a barrage of her mother’s demands. “Anne, I am most seriously displeased. Under the present circumstances, you deserve no such attention, but I will tell you this, I am willing to overlook all of your indiscretions if you leave with me and come to London. There we will find you a proper husband.”

  “No, Mother, I will not. I intend to marry Richard, and nothing you say will ever change my mind.”

  “What has gotten into you? You spend a few days in the presence of that woman,” she pointed at Elizabeth, “and now I am subjected to utter nonsense. I will not hear any more of it. You will do your duty to your family, and that is the end of it.”

  Fitzwilliam stood, ready to defend Elizabeth against his coarse aunt, but Lord Matlock beat him to it.

  “Catherine, that is enough!” Lord Matlock commanded. The attention of the entire room had been caught when his sister’s voice was heard raised against Anne. Now they all sat straighter and hung on his every word. “We know not what Anne’s duty is at this point, and until our stewards and solicitors arrive with Lewis’s will and the proper documents, you will cease mentioning any of it. In addition, I will not hear another remark against Elizabeth. She is as much of a member of this family as you and I.”

  “How dare you presume I do not know what my husband’s will states? When everyone you have called to Pemberley rally around and confirm what I have told you, I will demand an apology from you, James.” Lady Catherine’s voice was seething with anger against her brother. “Once I have it, I will take my daughter and we will leave this place, at which time she will marry whom I deem appropriate.”

  “No, Mother, I will not go with you.” Anne ran from the room; Richard followed her.

  “Then you will be disowned, left penniless, and at the mercy of these relations who seem to think your father’s wishes mean nothing,” Lady Catherine yelled after the retreating figure of her daughter.

  Richard caught up with Anne at the top of the stairs. Reaching out, he caught her arm and pulled her to him.

  “Why? Why must my mother be so vicious?” Anne sobbed into Richard’s chest.

  “Shhh, do not cry. My father has assured me he will find a way for us to marry.”

  “How? If my mother is right, then my father has forced me into a life of misery. A life married to someone my mother chooses. A life without love.”

  Richard placed his hand under Anne’s chin and lifted her face so he could look directly into her eyes while he spoke. “If my father is not successful, then we will do what we must. Nothing will keep us apart.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  Richard reached into his pocket and then held his hand above Anne’s head. As she looked up to see what he was doing, he caught her lips in a passionate kiss. Pulling away, he declared, “I think I like Elizabeth’s Christmas decorations. They have proved extremely useful.”

  The tears in Anne’s eyes disappeared as a beautiful smile lit up her face. She reached for Richard’s hand and took the mistletoe from him; then, holding it over his head, she kissed him again.

  Christmas morning was a f
lurry of activity. The Fitzwilliam children were running around, giggling and laughing merrily about everything they saw. The tree that had been empty yesterday was now filled with presents, and they could hardly wait to open them.

  The boisterous nature of the children had set Mrs. Bennet’s nerves a flutter just days before, but today she matched their energy and smiled at the beautiful sight of happy children.

  “Jane, Lizzy, aren’t the children just delightful? Why, just look at them. Nothing but smiles from all three. Oh, how I have missed the excitement of small children on Christmas morning.”

  “Yes, Mamma,” Jane answered and then cast a look at her sister.

  Elizabeth looked back at her and rolled her eyes with derision. Jane responded with a shrug of her shoulders. Elizabeth was happy her mother had chosen to enjoy the children rather than censure them, for she doubted she could handle two censuring matrons. Lady Catherine was quite enough.

  “Lord James, Lady Roslynd, I am sure you can imagine a lady of my age and station in life prefers not to be awakened by the screams of unruly children at God only knows what hour it is,” Lady Catherine ranted as she entered the drawing room.

  James looked towards his aunt and responded without a care of whether he offended her or not. “Aunt Catherine, today is Christmas and the children are excited. I care not that their joyful exclamations woke you up. You will just have to deal with it.”

  “Well, I never—”

  She was cut off by the high-pitched squeals of the children as their grandparents entered the room. “Grandpapa, Grandmamma, look!” Evelyn exclaimed as she threw her arms around their legs and pointed to the tree. “We have presents, lots of them. May we open them?”

  Lady Matlock bent down and lifted little Richard into her arms as he toddled up behind his sister. “Not yet. We must eat breakfast and give gifts to the tenants, then when we return this afternoon we will open our own presents. Remember, children, duty always comes before pleasure, but let me tell you a little secret.” She sat upon the settee with Richard on her lap and leaned towards James and Evelyn, who came to stand next to her. “It will be lots of fun to hand out presents and play with Cousin Fitzwilliam’s tenants and their children. I dare you to keep a bigger smile on your face than the children you see today.”