Elizabeth’s eyes misted to hear his self-rebuke. How could he think she felt remorse for his kiss? Such tenderness and ardent desire she had never known. At that moment, she very much needed it, and even now her lips tingled at the memory.
“Can you not imagine how grateful I am?” she asked, her voice rising in pitch. “Can you not understand how it comforted me?”
Some of the pain in Darcy’s expression eased. “I should not have done it. I am pleased it brought you some relief, but I cannot accept your thanks.”
He was leaving again, and something in Elizabeth’s heart told her that if she did not speak now, she might never have another opportunity. “Pray forgive my selfishness, even as it may wound you. As we have referenced the New Year and our new beginning, should we not seal it with a kiss?”
Elizabeth repressed an urge to laugh as she could see that Darcy had never expected such words. He opened and closed his mouth several times. At last, he found his voice.
Anxiety and indecision marred his countenance. Restrained energy thrummed from his body. “By your sister’s count, it is well past the New Year. It is now the fifth.”
Elizabeth gave him a saucy grin. “Then we are long overdue, do you not agree?”
All hesitation vanished, and Darcy strode to her with determined steps. He pulled her into his strong arms, and Elizabeth threw hers around his neck. They held each other so tightly that she could feel the rapid beat of his heart through his garments.
Just before Darcy’s lips met Elizabeth’s, he rested his forehead on hers. Through laboured breaths, he said, “Will you allow me to tell you how ardently I love you?”
“Yes, but you had much better tell me more later and kiss me now,” Elizabeth demanded.
Her words were immediately heeded and none too soon, for far earlier than either would have liked, their bliss was interrupted by the screeching of Mrs. Bennet.
The First Noel
Longbourn,
December 23, 1811
Elizabeth and Darcy blushed as Mrs. Bennet’s shrieks sent Mr. Bennet to the library. After her father had requested a private word with the gentleman, Elizabeth whispered to Darcy, “What will you tell him?”
“The truth,” he answered.
“You will tell my father that we inexplicably have been repeating the same day?”
“I am not certain he would believe that. No, I intend to tell him that I love you.”
Elizabeth blushed but shyly smiled. “Very well. I will tell him the same.”
Before Darcy could tell Elizabeth not to be untruthful, her mother pulled her away, and Darcy was left with Mr. Bennet.
“Have a seat, Mr. Darcy,” the older gentleman said with deceptive calmness before taking his own on the opposite side of the desk.
“Allow me to apologise for taking liberties with your daughter,” Darcy said, hoping the smile he could not erase did not exacerbate matters.
“She seemed far from offended,” Bennet observed.
For once, Darcy thought to himself. Of course, if kissing was what it took to
earn Elizabeth’s favour, he would gladly make himself a slave to the task.
“Ahem.”
Mr. Bennet cleared his throat, and Darcy realised he had been woolgathering.
“Well, you have done it now,” Bennet said. “Her mother witnessed it, and there will be no mercy from her wailings. I am surprised a man of your worth managed to forget himself enough to be entangled so much.”
Mr. Bennet seemed to have found humour in the situation.
“I love her,” Darcy blurted.
“Indeed?”
“I have asked her to marry me.” Darcy could hardly tell her father when he had done so. Nor would telling him that Elizabeth had refused help his cause.
“You are not asking for my blessing, so I assume she did not accept?”
Darcy remained mute.
“However, she seemed to welcome your...ahem...attentions, so not all hope is lost.”
“Sir?” Did Bennet want his daughter to marry him?
“I think my wife must have interrupted the settling of things.”
“Well…”
“If I am not mistaken, it has been several days in the making.”
Did Mr. Bennet also regain memory of the last fortnight?
“Now, I will call for Elizabeth. Then we must hope your cousin does something for Mary. He is fortunate my wife will never recall a thing.”
“I do not understand…” Darcy fumbled. “How?”
“I have at last learned caution from your story about Wickham. I believe there must be some Christmas magic at work. Upon realizing how derelict I was in protecting my daughters, I had the most bizarre set of memories fall upon me. I can think of no way to explain your sudden arrival and Jane’s betrothal but to believe they were real, ending with an epiphany of great importance.”
Darcy blinked at the man whom, he had found, acted most illogically most of his life. Mr. Bennet had married a silly wife with little fortune. He did not save for his daughters’ inheritance. He allowed them far too much liberty. However, the man had logically explained the alternate realities and time loop they had inhabited for two weeks and believed it far more easily than anyone else had. Perhaps the key lay in being both logical and ridiculous? Bennet began to laugh, interrupting Darcy’s reverie.
“Do not mind me.” The gentleman waved off Darcy’s concerned look.
“I only recalled when Collins had died. Mrs. Bennet has often wished there was no entail, and I have often hoped it would not go to him. However, she did not take kindly to him keeling up before marrying one of her daughters and just after proposing to Charlotte Lucas.”
Mr. Bennet chuckled another moment. “Then you and Bingley came bounding in, and immediately she turned about, elated with your return and convinced Bingley meant to offer for Jane and save us all. I daresay you will be gaining two or three very silly sisters, but your mother-in-law will always entertain.”
Darcy managed to smile at the image. At present, if he could acquire Elizabeth’s hand and if she could return his love, he would bear all things and count himself blessed. How differently he felt about any number of things in so few days!
Mr. Bennet rang for the servant, and in short order, Elizabeth entered the library.
“Now, Elizabeth,” Mr. Bennet began as she sat beside Darcy, “this gentleman tells me that he loves you and has asked for your hand in marriage.”
“Yes,” she answered nervously. Undoubtedly, she had not meant to speak to her father with Darcy in the room.
“And do you consent?”
Elizabeth glanced at Darcy. “I do.”
If he had not insulted her so soundly in his actual proposal, he would think this arrangement the height of unromantic. Still, Darcy’s heart rate increased. She was accepting him? She had not returned her eyes to her father.
“And you are not out of your senses? Currently, I mean. It would be understandable if you are after the events of the last fortnight.”
Elizabeth gasped. “You know?” She swung her head from him to gape at Mr. Bennet.
“Yes, I do, but you have not answered my question.”
“No.” Elizabeth shook her head and returned her gaze to Darcy. “No, I am in my right mind.”
“Have you not always hated him?” Mr. Bennet said with a humorous note in his voice.
Elizabeth blushed. “No. No, I have never hated him. I love him.”
Darcy’s heart skidded to a stop and then burst. The elation overspread on his face as muscles he had long forgotten he had stretched into a grin of unfettered joy.
“You love me?” He could not keep the wonder from his voice.
“I do,” she replied in a similar voice of disbelief.
He reached for her hands and raised them to his lips. “Words cannot contain the love I have for you.”
“I do not know.” Elizabeth smiled. “Calling it ‘ardent’ certainly seemed like a good beginning to
me.”
It was not the beginning he had trouble with! No, his problem was that no matter how his words of love began, in his mind the scene ended with his capturing her mouth and not relinquishing it until she was his in every way. Still, he would do this right, for her.
Keeping her hand in his, Darcy knelt on one knee. “Elizabeth Bennet, I passionately adore you. I would lay down my life for you. I will go to the ends of the earth to make you happy. I love you as no man has ever loved a woman. Will you be my wife?”
Elizabeth smiled even as a tear trickled down her cheek. “Yes, I will! I have been stupid and blind. I have been unkind and unjust. You have seen me at my worst, and I have seen you at your best. I love you, Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Darcy could not contain his ardour any longer and met Elizabeth’s lips. When he did not hear a reproach from Mr. Bennet, he pulled back long enough to confirm the gentleman had left the room at some point during their exchange. He met Elizabeth’s lips again.
He would never have enough of her, but when he had kept her in his arms as long as he dared, they separated and returned to the drawing room. Upon Mr. Bennet announcing their betrothal, they learned that Richard had also sought Mr. Bennet’s blessing to wed Mary.
Darcy gave Richard a hearty handshake, and Elizabeth approached her sister.
“Are you certain of this, Mary?” Elizabeth dropped her voice. “Mama does not remember the kiss. No one will be upset if you refuse him.”
Richard cleared his throat. “I will be upset.”
“Perhaps it is a bit sudden,” Darcy cautioned.
“No,” Richard said. “In all this insanity, I admit I felt attraction for another lady. I even believed I might love her.”
Mary began to hang her head in shame.
“Richard, I do not think…”
“I was wrong,” Richard said and lifted Mary’s head by hooking his finger under her chin. “She intrigued me because she was unavailable, and I was a glutton for punishment. When I considered never having her, only my pride was wounded. Then you boldly walked into my life, and I instantly fell.”
“Did you really?” Mary breathed, her eyes focused on Richard.
“I did.” He nodded. “And such a sweet fall it was.”
Darcy cleared his throat. “I suppose we have established your feelings.”
Elizabeth smirked. “He is only jealous because you are out-romancing him.”
Darcy flushed and looked at his feet.
Elizabeth whispered in his ear, “I still love you.”
He would never tire of her saying it. However, at the moment, they needed to address her sister’s feelings. “What do you say, Miss Mary? I recall Richard once telling me that he would settle for marrying a woman who did not love him, so long as he loved her.”
Mary gasped, and a surprising fierceness flooded her eyes. Darcy laughed to himself at the familial expression she shared with Elizabeth.
“Don’t you dare let me hear such a thing said of you again.” Mary poked Richard in the chest. “Do not dare think you are not worthy of love. You deserve it more than any other man, and I…” Tears flooded her eyes, and she wiped at them below her glasses. “I love you. I may be small and plain, but I have loved you since I first saw you and—”
Richard silenced her with a kiss that drew the attention of the room again.
“Mr. Bennet! Mr. Bennet!” Mrs. Bennet cried.
“Colonel, I was going to give you my blessing anyway. Can you not speak with a father like a civilised man?” Mr. Bennet laughed. “If any young men come for Kitty or Lydia, show them in. I am quite at my leisure,” he said and withdrew a newspaper to read by the fire.
The three betrothed couples and Georgiana could not contain their amusement while Mr. Bennet’s two youngest daughters had not spared the others more than a moment’s concern, as they had instead noticed a bright star in the sky.
When she had caught her breath, Georgiana declared, “Joyeux Noel!”
“Mr. Bennet,” his wife exclaimed. “You take delight in vexing me!” She then clutched her head. “Oh, that clock! My salts! My salts!”
The others had just enough time to reach their seats before fainting.
Part II
Pride and Prejudice and Epiphanies
Angels from the Realms of Glory
Longbourn
December 23, 1811
Mrs. Bennet awoke with a start. Everyone was looking at her: her husband, her five daughters, and…Mr. Bingley. Her heart began to pound, and a screech bubbled up in her throat. Before she could even think, her hand was out fluttering before her.
“Mr...Mr...B-B-B-Bingley!” she exclaimed. “You are most welcome, sir.”
“Mama,” Jane said and came to her side. “Rest yourself.”
“Oh, you see how good she takes care of me, sir? So respectful and obedient. Not ungrateful like some of my other girls.”
She cast her eyes about to find Lizzy and gasped to see Mr. Darcy looking adoringly at the girl.
“Mr. Bennet!” She swung her arms out high as she struggled to sit forward. “Mr. Bennet, explain what he is doing with our Lizzy.”
“We are engaged, Mama,” Lizzy said. “Did you not hear?” Lizzy cast a confused look at her father.
Suddenly, Mrs. Bennet realised it was odd that she had fallen asleep in the drawing room, but she had no memory of the gentlemen arriving. Why had no one awakened her?
“Here is Mrs. Hill with your salts,” Jane said and waved them before Mrs. Bennet’s nose.
“Bless me!” she exclaimed when the pungent odour filled her senses. “But Mr. Darcy? How rich you will be!”
Springing to her feet, she rushed to the gentleman. “Oh, you good, good man! So handsome and tall! So kind to us and brave to take on our troublesome girl.”
“Mama—” Lizzy said in her scolding voice at the same time that Mr. Darcy spoke.
“Madam—”
“A special dinner! We must have a special dinner for you. What is your favourite dish?”
“Perhaps you may offer a dinner for both of your potential sons-in-law,” Mr. Bennet said with a wry smile.
Mrs. Bennet stared blankly at her husband, who then nodded back at Mr. Bingley.
“Jane?” Mrs. Bennet said, her voice rising an octave.
“Yes, Mama. Mr. Bingley has proposed to me.”
“Well, thank the Lord for that! I thought it would never happen!” She clapped her hands. “Oh, Mr. Bingley, you must be an angel. Did you convince your friend to take Lizzy off our hands?”
“Look how red she is,” Lydia laughed and snickered with Kitty.
“And what are you doing to find a husband?” Mrs. Bennet turned on them. Elizabeth had risen in her estimation considerably, and she suddenly realised how far her younger daughters had to go.
“Mary!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed. “What are you doing to find a husband?”
“Simple, madam.”
A deep voice that Mrs. Bennet did not know spoke behind her. She whirled to face him and gaped at Mary holding hands with a man in a soldier’s uniform.
“She let me kiss her.”
Mary blushed scarlet and buried her face in the man’s arm while her sisters erupted in laughter.
“Mr. Bennet!” his wife shrieked. “Mr. Bennet! You must make him marry her!”
“He has already proposed, and I have given my blessing. However, no other soldier is welcome in our home.”
“But what of your other daughters? Do you not wish for them to be well-settled?”
“Mrs. Bennet,” her husband spoke so sternly that she sat down. “You will not tell me how to discipline our children. We will no longer be in such a hurry to marry our daughters that we do not take care to know the characters of the men in our home.”
“You will not tell me how to find matches for my girls!” Mrs. Bennet’s hackles rose.
“My dear Mrs. Bennet, do you not see that they have done better without your knowledge than with it?”
Feeling faint, Mrs. Bennet cried for her salts once more.
“The clock has reset already?” Elizabeth asked.
The handsome colonel shrugged. “It always did after our epiphanies.”
“True,” Mary agreed. “We returned with a limited amount of time to choose correctly. It seems whatever Christmas magic this is knows how much time to allot each of us.”
Her husband laughed. “Who would have thought your mother needed the least amount of time of us all?”
Mrs. Bennet huffed in annoyance. Would no one come to her aid? Would they all merely laugh at her? Then, she realised they had all moved to seats. Just before her eyes closed, she noticed the other occupants had fainted as well.
Deck the Halls
Longbourn
December 23, 1811
“I do not understand,” Lizzy said to the pompous Mr. Darcy and Papa. “I thought we had fixed things.”
“Perhaps others must learn a lesson as well.”
Darcy glanced at Lydia, and she stuck her tongue out at him when he looked away. Why was he even here? Why did she not remember? She looked around the room and saw Jane and Bingley chatting complacently. Memories of them walking together in the garden of Longbourn emerged, and Lydia shrugged them away. She did not recall when he arrived to make his addresses, but then Lydia seldom paid attention to anything not about her.
So she did what she always did when confused and not understanding what others talked about. She laughed and made a show of herself. It was Christmas! There should be laughter and dancing. “Lord! I’m so hungry,” she cried. “Is it time for tea?”
“Tea? Yes, an excellent idea,” her mother said in a calm voice.
Lydia blinked at the woman. She could not recall ever hearing her mother speak so sensibly. Never having much compassion for her mother’s nerves and fits of anxiety, Lydia had found great amusement in them. “Mary, play something we can dance to!”
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