“Yes, they did, but I am getting ahead of myself, so let me get back on track. When we came back to the house, Daniel set the trees up in their appropriate places. He strung the lights while Jane, Kat, and I decorated them. We have some antique glass ornaments, but more special are the ones that Mom and Dad helped us make over the years. We keep them in shoeboxes in the attic, one box for each of us, and bring them out every Christmas for the main tree downstairs. I’m going to email you some pictures of the trees and of Mary Beth and André, too. Our tree is not as pretty as some of the designer trees, but it is very special, representing a lifetime of memories.”
“I bet it is.” …The kind of memories I want to build with you and our children.
“When we were just about finished, Grace brought us some Christmas tea along with teacakes made from an old family recipe.”
“What are they like?”
“Well, they are not a cookie per se, but almost like a biscuit, and they’re delicious. These particular teacakes were made with crushed black walnuts from the cove.”
“Hmm…black walnuts? I’ve never heard of them.”
“Well that’s because they’re native to America.” She giggled.
“That could be it.” He returned her laughter.
“They grow wild all over these mountains, and the tea is something we only have during the holidays. It is made from dried orange peel and cloves. It’s another one of Grandmother Bennett’s recipes. I’ll fix you some when you get here.”
“That sounds lovely. I’ll look forward to it,” he said with a genuine smile, propped up in bed listening to the melodious sound of her voice.
“How is your father? Have you told him about us yet?”
“No,” he hesitated, “I’ve not had the chance. Father is …well … very burdened down with business. We’ve had two lengthy talks, but it didn’t come up. I plan on speaking with him in the next day or two. I’ll tell you all about it when I come home.”
“Home... I’m very touched that you think of Tennessee as home when you’ve only been here for less than five months.”
“Elizabeth, I think of you as home, be it here in England, or there in Tennessee. Wherever you are is home.”
“And that is why I love you. I’m very touched that you would feel that way about me.”
“I feel that way and more. And next Christmas we will be together. I promise.”
“Yes, we will. I know that. Fitzwilliam, it’s getting very late. It must be close to daybreak there. It’s two a.m. here. We need to go. I love you, and I look forward to seeing you. Daniel and Kat will remain at Longbourn until classes begin on the tenth, so we will have some privacy. Come home soon. I miss you.”
“I miss you, too, Liz. I’ll be home New Year’s Eve. I love you, and I will see you then. Goodnight, my love.”
“Goodnight, or rather, good morning, and I hope your Christmas Day is all that it should be.”
Fitzwilliam slid his mobile shut and sat in quiet reflection. …How differently we celebrate the holidays! Ours is cold and formal, except for the little bit Georgiana, David, and I share, whilst hers is warm and loving. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted. Mum would have loved her.
~*~
After hanging up the phone, Elizabeth lay awake, thinking about their conversation. …Why do I get the feeling his Christmas is not as good as mine? He seemed lonely, out of sorts. I wonder if things are all right with his dad. Why has he not yet spoken to him? I wonder if his father will approve of me. Fitzwilliam says it doesn’t matter to him, so I suppose it shouldn’t matter to me either. Oh well, I trust him. That’s all I can do.
Elizabeth snuggled into her bed and fell into a restless sleep, disturbed, but not sure why.
The next morning, Christmas Day dawned bright and beautiful and very cold. Elizabeth quickly jumped out of bed and ran downstairs in her flannel nightgown and bare feet, her long braid trailing behind her. “Merry Christmas,” she greeted her sister Mary Beth as she flew into the kitchen. The sound of church bells from Longbourn Church pealed through the air, and the smell of fresh apple-cinnamon scones and hazelnut cream coffee permeated the room.
“Good morning to you, too, and Merry Christmas.” Mary Beth turned to greet her sister. “Lizzy, look! Look how beautiful and fresh the world looks this Christmas morning. It’s magical.”
Elizabeth came to stand beside her sister, gazing out the large window by the kitchen door. How beautiful indeed the world seemed, Elizabeth thought. Icicles dripped from the barren trees, and snow covered the ground, glistening in the brilliant sunshine like a blanket of diamonds. It formed a beautiful contrast to the deer off in the distance, foraging for what little food there was. And bright red cardinals enjoyed their Christmas feast of millet and suet in the winter feeders while fat bunnies ran hurriedly through what remained of the vegetable garden.
“Look, Mary Beth, aren’t they beautiful? I mean the birds and the deer, and look at the rabbits.”
“Umm, yes, Lizzy, they are. You know, I really miss the farm. It was the perfect place to grow up. We had such a good childhood, didn’t we?”
“Yes… yes we did. I only hope we can pass on what Mom and Dad taught us.”
“We will, Lizzy,” Kat said as she lazily walked into the room to join her sisters. “I have no doubt of that, and you before me.”
“Umm, that coffee smells wonderful. Pour me a cup—cream and sugar, please. And your day will come, Kat,” Jane said, coming into the room.
“I know it will, but I’m in no hurry. I have my career ahead of me, which I am very much looking forward to,” Kat answered, handing her sister a cup of coffee in their mother’s best Christmas china.
As the girls enjoyed the scene from the large picture window, Daniel appeared all excited. “Joseph’s on the phone, and he wants to talk with each of you. It’s Christmas morning in Iraq, too, I think—or is it Christmas afternoon? Hmm… Oh never mind. Come to the phone. Hurry!”
~*~
Fitzwilliam paced his bedroom floor and raked his hand through his hair as he glanced at the calendar on his desk. Two days remained before his return trip to the States, and yet he hadn’t spoken with his father. He sighed heavily... well, the time is now.
Leaving his room, he went in search of his brother, finding him in the library. “David, it’s time. I’ve got to face him.”
David closed his book and rose from his seat. “Well, let’s go and get it over with.”
Together they walked the long hallway, neither saying a word, silence and dread weighing heavily on them both. When they arrived, Fitzwilliam knocked on the doorframe.
Their father glanced up and put his pen down as he raised a brow in curiosity and bid them to enter with a slight wave of his hand.
“Father, I need to have a word with you.”
“Would you like something to drink?” he asked, eyeing them both closely.
“No, thank you,” they both answered in unison.
“Well then, out with it. What do you want?” he asked as he poured himself a brandy.
Fitzwilliam squared his shoulders and glanced between his brother and father. “I want to tell you. Well, that is, I need to tell you…that…that I have decided to marry.”
“Is that so?” His father folded his hands and leaned back in his seat. “Why don’t you tell me about it?”
Glancing at David, Fitzwilliam breathed deeply. “I’m marrying a wonderful woman from the university where I work.” He paused briefly. “Her name is Elizabeth Bennett. She’s an associate professor of mathematics, and I’m very much in love with her. She’s beautiful, intelligent, and the most wonderful woman I’ve ever known. I hope to have your blessing, Father.” Fitzwilliam stepped back.
The room was cloaked in hushed stillness for a full minute.
“Well, it seems that both of my sons are to disappoint me I see. First David, with his licentious lifestyle, and now you. You know I cannot give you my blessing. Our position in society and busin
ess interests forbids it. You are the grandson of an Earl. We belong to the highest stratum of society which this American will never reach, not even as your wife. I am certain she is a wonderful woman, as you say. I trust you in that much, but she is not of our sphere.” Mr. Darcy hesitated and cocked his head. “Fitzwilliam, do you really think you can ask a modern woman—especially an American woman, to change for you simply because you claim to love one another?” He paused once again, looking first at one and then the other. “I have sacrificed everything for this company. Apparently, I did not instill the same drive or force of determination in my sons for the same thing.” He cast his gaze upon David. “I suppose you are here to lend support to your brother?”
David nodded in agreement.
“Father, it is not as you think. She’s a wonderful young lady whom I’m certain will not disgrace the family, and you know nothing about her position in society. She was educated in one of the top schools in America. Her family was part of the gentry of the Old South and still remains prominent to this day. She is the descendant of an English Earl from the 17th century, and also from the same Bennet line from which we descend. I verified this when I visited Hertfordshire before Christmas. Her ancestor was the brother of Edward Bennet, our ancestral grandfather. She will not impede my position in this family. Father,” he leaned down, placing both hands on Mr. Darcy’s desk. “I intend to claim my place in the Darcy legacy and carry this company and family into the future. I have been reading the journals of my namesake, and it seems he survived a similar family situation admirably. I know I can do the same. And Father, I will not ask her to change. I love her the way she is, and just as importantly, she loves me for who I am, not for what I am or what I have. Father, we love each other.”
At this point, George interrupted. “I hear what you’re saying, Fitzwilliam, and even if it’s all true, what was is not what is. The Old South is dead, and a bloodline three, or even two hundred years into the past, is irrelevant,” he said, holding his son’s steady gaze. “I want you to know, I do understand what you are saying regarding your feelings, but as I’ve told you before, you are different. You have a duty and an obligation, and you need a woman who will understand that. Americans tend not only to miscomprehend duty and responsibility, but they have a flagrant disregard for the things we hold dear. If it ever comes to a place where you must take a stand and sacrifice for the company, she will falter and crumble like a two-day-old biscuit. She will not understand. It is a cultural difference, Fitzwilliam. It would be like the Prince marrying beneath himself. It’s just not done.”
Fitzwilliam stood erect. “Father, things are changing both here and abroad—”
Mr. Darcy’s eyes narrowed. “Not in this family, not as long as I am in charge. That will be understood. As for Fitzwilliam, your namesake, yes, he did do as you intend on doing, but if I’d been his father, I would have forbidden it. But since he was his own master, he did as he wished. As to the present, I cannot risk David as Chairman and CEO, therefore I have no choice, but if I had a son on whom I could depend, I would disinherit you both. Believe me when I tell you I have seriously considered it to the point of looking at my nephews, but in the end, I could not do that.”
Fitzwilliam clenched his jaw in anger as he stalked the floor. “Father, I am going to marry her, and there’s not a thing you can do about it. As I have already stated, I have my own money. I am my own master.”
Mr. Darcy looked his oldest son directly in the eye. “If you marry her, Fitzwilliam, from that day forward we will be estranged. You will not be accepted back into this house as long as I shall live.” Mr. Darcy glared at his younger son, and then back to Fitzwilliam. “You will, however, continue on the board. As I have already stated, I cannot trust your brother. So in that, you are spared my full wrath. That is all. You may be excused, the both of you.” He dropped his gaze and picked up his pen.
“Father, you are making a mistake. David and I both love you, but we’re not you, and you are wrong about David.”
Once again putting his pen aside, he slowly raised his eyes to meet his son head on. “Fitzwilliam, you have a duty, both to your family and to Pemberley. I have already told you where that duty lies—”
Fitzwilliam cut him off, his anger flashed. “Father, you astound me! You have the audaciousness to speak to me of duty and responsibility to family, yet you neglected your most important duty and responsibility of all—your duty to us. What irony. What audacity you have to speak to me of duty and responsibility! What about your duty and responsibility to your wife and children. You think I don’t know what went on between you and Mum? Well, I do…I’ve known for years.”
Mr. Darcy dropped his gaze, staring down into his empty glass as his son continued.
“I was there, and I saw what you did to her. Remember your fortieth birthday? Well, I remember it very well,” he scoffed as he looked from David to his father. “Do you remember how Mum found you when we all came up to see you? Mum sent me away, only I didn’t go. I stood in the servants’ entrance and watched. So don’t talk to me about family duty and responsibility. I’ve seen quite enough, and I’ve been sick of it for years.”
His father raised his eyes and with a cold, calm, collected voice he responded, “Fitzwilliam, if you marry this woman, I will not give you the time of day.”
“Father, do you even know the time of day? Have you ever known?!”
An uncomfortable silence filled the room until George Darcy finally broke the still ambience. “Leave me, Fitzwilliam. Leave me, David.” Picking up his pen once more, he resumed his writing.
“Is that all the answer I’m to receive?”
George glanced up. “I believe we’ve said quite enough, don’t you? Now, if you will excuse me, I have a letter to write.”
Fitzwilliam stormed out of his father’s study, slamming the door behind him as he and David cleared the threshold, fury coursing through his veins. He would do everything he could to be faithful to both himself and his family obligations, but his father’s words stung at his heart and sensibilities.
~*~
While he watched his sons leave, George Darcy placed his pen aside, staring at the closed door as he stroked the signet ring on his right hand. Sitting alone in his study, he poured himself another brandy. He felt tired and old…very old. He remembered a woman he’d once thought of as beautiful and intelligent. She, too, had been the most wonderful woman he’d ever known. Yes, he’d once married for love, and look what had come of it. It had wrecked his life and cost him everything he’d held dear, including his children. He wiped a tear from his cheek.
…Fitzwilliam will marry his American woman and there is nothing I can do about it. He shook his head as he sipped his drink. …but I must keep this marriage as quiet as possible. …Anne, Anne, I never realized our marriage would affect them as deeply as it has. But I have to do what I have to do …for Pemberley…for them. I have to protect them and their heritage. Everything I do now is for my sons…
~*~
Walking down the long hallway towards the front of the house, David smiled. “Fitzwilliam, I’m sorry, but it’s not as bad as it could have been. I told you he would not disinherit you. Marry your elvish princess and let the next generation of Darcys be happy.” David slapped Fitzwilliam on the back, feeling rather proud of his big brother.
“David, when it’s our turn to run things, we’re going to do it differently. I want both you and Georgiana to share Pemberley House with Elizabeth and me. We can make a home for our families like Mother would have wanted. I will never, and I mean never, treat my wife and family the way Father has treated us. He infuriates me!”
“Fitz, you’re a good man.” David chuckled. “We’ll see.”
As they turned the corner and headed to the outside, David’s mind wandered …I wonder what she’s doing tonight… NO! I don’t need to be thinking about her.
~*~
Before Fitzwilliam’s plane landed in Nashville, reports were circulating a
round Britain that he and David had been seen entering Garrard’s, and that both brothers had bought engagement rings for two mysterious ladies. George Darcy denied everything, immediately contacting his public relations coordinator to circumvent the rumors, while David only smiled with a no comment. Fitzwilliam was unavailable to make a statement, his father claiming he was on a business assignment. David laughed at the absurdity of it all.
Chapter Eighteen
…the woman he’d always wanted…
Jane paced back and forth in front of the picture window, parting the curtains every now and then, peering out into the front lawn. “Elizabeth, will you check the pot roast? It should be about done. The green beans are ready, and the potato casserole is about there.” Jane casually spoke as she turned from the window. “I think another five minutes will do it. We need to get those rolls in the oven, and how are you doing with the lemon cream pie?”
Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Jane, everything is set. One would think you were anxious. I mean it’s only been, what, twenty days? But who’s counting?”
Jane giggled. “You’re right, Lizzy. I am anxious, but they will be here when they get here. Let’s talk of something else. Ever since our last talk, I’ve been thinking. You know there has been a pair of albino doves seen in the vicinity of Longbourn church—especially in the old graveyard. Do you think they are linked to the old Cherokee Legend?”
“Jane, not you, too. Grace has mentioned those doves as some sort of sign from God. Surely you don’t hold to superstition. You know better than that. You’re an educated woman, for Pete’s sake.”
“Yes, but still, Lizzy, there are some things that cannot be explained, such as Blackberry Winter or why sauerkraut ruins if a woman is on her period when she’s making it. Not everything can be explained with logic or science,” Jane said. “Lizzy, we’re not just of English descent. We’re Scots Irish, too. And the Scottish have second sight. We have the ability to know things. Edward Bennet’s wife, our great-great-great grandmother, Mary Alice Prophet, was Scottish, and their only daughter, Cordelia had the sight, and—”
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