Yuletide

by Joana Starnes

  “At the wedding breakfast. She said we were cousins now and, as you and I are so close, I should call her Elizabeth. I was rather proud to be asked, if I may say so. She didn’t make the offer to anyone else.”

  “Your family was not at the wedding,” Darcy bit out.

  “You know what I mean.” The colonel paced a few steps away and turned back to his cousin. “I asked her to call me Richard. It seemed the gentlemanly thing to do.”

  Darcy felt heat rush to his face. “Has she taken you up on your offer?”

  “I do not recall. She may have, once, at the wedding. If she did, it was done in a public setting and entirely out of familial feeling. Surely you do not doubt her, man!”

  “No! Of course not!” Now Darcy looked horrified. “But I do not like to hear you saying her name, and I do not wish to hear her saying yours.”

  The colonel tilted his head and smiled at his cousin. “Darcy, you have nothing to worry about, from me or any other man. I would never do that to you, as you well know, and even if I were half the rogue you think me, Elizabeth would never consider dishonoring you in such a way. Firstly, because she is too good, and secondly, because she is wildly in love with you, though I do not know why. You can be terribly difficult to live with.”

  Darcy flushed and looked to the ground, then back to his cousin with a smile. “Forgive me, Fitz, you are correct, of course. My apologies for haranguing you.”

  “You are forgiven, Fitz.”

  Darcy winced and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

  “Do you really hate being called ‘Fitz’ so very much?” the colonel asked.

  “I do, though Elizabeth calls me Fitzwilliam now, and I like it much more than I thought I would.”

  Fitzwilliam gave him a knowing smile. “That is likely why she asked me to call her Elizabeth.”

  Darcy looked at him in incomprehension.

  “Marriage has dulled your wits, Cousin. If she calls you Fitzwilliam, particularly when you are alone, can you not see why she would not wish to address me in the same manner?”

  Darcy hardly thought it would be in the same manner, low and sweet and lingering ever so slightly on the second syllable, but he took his cousin’s point.

  “You are correct, of course. I hadn’t thought…”

  “You may call me Fitz, if it makes things any easier.”

  “You do not hate it?” Darcy asked in surprise.

  “No, I never have, but you hated it so much I couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease you.”

  Darcy rolled his eyes and Fitz laughed cheerily.

  “It is settled: I will be Fitz and you will be Darcy, and Elizabeth shall call you Fitzwilliam, or darling, or sweet dumpling, or whatever she likes, and I will be Richard to her. Are we in agreement?”

  Darcy sighed and pursed his lips, then held out his hand to his cousin. “We are in agreement. Fitz.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam laughed too loudly for the joke. But then, he always did. “Now go find your wife. I am desperate for a bath.”

  Elizabeth went over the day’s events in her mind as she prepared for bed that evening. She thought it had gone rather well, all things considered.

  Conversation had been a bit forced at tea, but not overly awkward, and her new family clearly had great affection for her husband and Georgiana, though they were more formal with him than they were with his sister. Dinner was more of the same, though Elizabeth thought the earl was warming to her. His wife still looked at her as if she were a specimen under glass speared on a pin to be studied, but she was not hostile, nor were her questions intrusive.

  The viscount and his lady were harder to read. Lord Lisle had said little at dinner and even less after. His wife had been all that was polite, but she was not particularly warm. She was quite the fine lady, and Elizabeth imagined she thought the new Mrs. Darcy to be a country upstart rising above her sphere.

  But Mrs. Darcy could not care overly much. Soon enough, they would see how happy she and her husband were together, and Georgiana as well. That would have to be enough.

  The evening after their visitors arrived, Elizabeth was hosting a dinner. So far, she had only entertained the vicar and his family and a neighbor with whom Darcy was particularly friendly. Those dinners had been small and intimate, with simple menus and friendly faces.

  Now she had invited four neighboring families and ordered a five-course meal. Rooms had been prepared in the event they were required, and Elizabeth was wearing a new gown. Georgiana was nervous, flitting from window to chair and back again, waiting for their guests to arrive.

  “Do sit down, dearest. They will be here soon enough,” Richard chided gently.

  Darcy smiled at his sister from his place near the fire. Elizabeth was off somewhere speaking to Mrs. Reynolds, while the remaining family had not come down for dinner yet.

  Darcy was not uneasy exactly. He had great faith in his wife’s abilities. It was only dinner. But he did feel the weight of the evening, of how it would set their place amongst the local society and debut his wife as a hostess. This dinner would be talked of, in great detail, and if it went badly, it could take years for opinions to change.

  Elizabeth entered the room with a radiant smile. He relaxed at the sight of her. She was brimming with confidence and good cheer.

  Soon enough, his Fitzwilliam relations joined them. Lady Lisle was somewhat overdressed and weighed down by jewels but still very pretty. Elizabeth smirked and caught the eye of the colonel, who made such an eloquent expression that she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Lord Lisle looked supremely bored but well turned out. His parents were perfectly dressed, perfectly coiffed, and comported themselves perfectly, as expected.

  Elizabeth tried not to roll her eyes at how very formal everyone was. Were it not for the good colonel, she might have despaired at ever coming to befriend anyone in her husband’s family.

  Finally, their guests arrived. The Watsons were an elderly couple who brought with them their eldest son and his wife as well as their rather dashing youngest son, a captain in the navy currently visiting his family. Next were the Beechams, a middle-aged couple with two unattached daughters, Margaret and Julia, the younger only recently out. The Darcys had hopes that Miss Julia and Georgiana would become friends. Sir Edmond and Lady Sarah Ludlow arrived, wreathed in pomp and glory, and finally, Mr. and Mrs. Wheeler, a local landowner with a good-sized estate that bordered Pemberley.

  The Wheelers brought with them their only child and heir, Miss Wheeler, a pretty young woman with honey-colored hair and large green eyes. Colonel Fitzwilliam stood a little straighter when she was announced, and Elizabeth stifled a smile. So, the colonel is not so impervious after all.

  Luckily for Colonel Fitzwilliam (and perhaps less so for Miss Wheeler), that gentleman was seated on the lady’s left. He charmed, he flirted, he saw to her every need and would not allow her a word with anybody else. His utter monopoly of her company would have been considered quite rude if the lady had not seemed equally pleased—eventually.

  Lord Aldrington sat on one side of Elizabeth and Lord Lisle on the other. The viscount showed no inclination to converse. He replied to her comments with one-word answers or not at all, and eventually Elizabeth gave him up for naught.

  The earl was a better dinner partner. He queried her politely on her family and holiday traditions and plans. After she had told him all she thought would be of interest and was searching for another topic, Mrs. Wheeler, seated on his other side, joined the conversation. She was quite happy to regale them both with the changes she was planning for her home the coming spring. Having recently done extensive renovations on his own manor house, the earl was pleased to listen, and Elizabeth was glad to be relieved of the burden of carrying the conversation.

  She looked down the table and thought all was proceeding smoothly. Georgiana was engaged in conversation with Miss Julia and her mother. Darcy seemed happy enough with his aunt on one side and Lady Lisle on the other, though the latt
er had trained her attention on the handsome captain across the table. Sir Ludlow was conversing agreeably with Mr. Wheeler and Miss Beecham. That poor girl looked horribly bored—Elizabeth would have to see that she was entertained when the ladies withdrew. Lady Ludlow had been quiet before dinner, but she was conversing animatedly with the viscount now. That man looked engaged for the first time since she had met him.

  Satisfied, she looked to her husband and caught his eye. He smiled at her slowly, in that way that began at his eyes and ended with his dimples. She felt her cheeks heat and looked away before she did something silly.

  Elizabeth was conversing with the earl and Mrs. Wheeler when she chanced a glance to her left. Lady Ludlow’s right hand was conspicuously absent, and the viscount’s left dropped beneath the tablecloth, followed swiftly by a flush in the lady’s cheeks.

  Oh, dear.

  As they prepared for bed that night, Elizabeth asked her husband if Richard had recently met Miss Wheeler, or if the night’s flirtations were a game of long standing. After bristling at hearing his cousin’s name on her lips, he answered her.

  “They have known each other some years. She will be coming into her third season this spring. He may offer for her then,” he said simply as he shrugged out of his banyan.

  “Truly? I had no idea it was so serious!”

  “I do not know that it is serious.” He sat on the bed now, leaning against the headboard as he waited for his wife.

  “What do you mean? Surely, offering a woman marriage is considered serious!” she countered as she climbed into bed and slipped close to her husband.

  He tugged the curtains closed. “It is a serious question, of course, but I do not know that their relationship is serious as yet. He is considering her at this point.”

  “Has he said as much to you?”

  “No, I am merely reading the signs.”

  “And yet you maintain that their relationship is not serious?”

  “Elizabeth, not every man is passionately in love when he offers marriage. I daresay the majority of them are not. We are the exception, not the rule, my love.”

  He kissed her forehead and pressed her shoulder so she would roll onto her side. He tucked his knees behind hers, and she threaded her feet between his legs. “Your feet are cold.”

  “And your legs are warm. What a wonderful combination.”

  He could hear the smile in her voice. “Minx.”

  “Miser.”

  “You shall pay for that, madam.”

  She shrieked as his fingers drove into her ribs. “Stop! Stop! I beg you!” she cried between gales of laughter.

  “Never!” He slowed his tickling and pressed his face into her neck. “Do you recant your statement, madam?” He growled and kissed her skin below her jaw, then moved toward her ear.

  She let out a breathy sigh. “I do, sir. You are most generous.”

  He laughed lightly. “I had never thought you would capitulate so easily.”

  “You think I have capitulated? I thought I had gotten exactly what I wanted.” She smirked into the darkness.

  His lips stopped their teasing motions, and he froze for a moment. “Minx.”

  Elizabeth laughed until her lips found a better occupation.

  “Elizabeth, the Wheelers’ carriage has just pulled into the drive,” said Darcy as he entered the conservatory.

  “Wonderful! I am happy she is come so early.”

  “Mrs. Wheeler?”

  “No, silly! Miss Wheeler. I invited her to spend a few days with us. And the Miss Beechams. Georgiana has been quite lonely this winter, and I am afraid I haven’t spent as much time with her as I would like. I thought it would be a good opportunity for her to make friends.”

  He looked at her skeptically, and she furrowed her brow.

  “Do you not approve? I thought you liked the Beechams! You aren’t upset I asked them without speaking to you, are you? You did say that I should run the house as I see fit and that I may invite whomever I like. I thought—”

  He silenced her with a finger to her lips.

  “Elizabeth, I like the Beechams very well, and I am happy you are thinking of Georgiana’s comfort. You may invite whom you please, of course; you are mistress in practice as well as name. I am merely surprised, that is all. And I should like to be assured you invited Miss Wheeler here for Georgiana and not for Fitzwilliam.” He tilted his chin down and looked up at her in that way he did when he was trying to divine her motives.

  She smiled winsomely. “Of course I invited her for Georgiana. I wanted to invite Miss Julia, they got on so well at dinner the other day, and I could hardly invite her without including her elder sister, but Miss Beecham would be in the way of the younger girls and possibly lonely herself. And I did not want her to think I had invited her for the colonel, so I included Miss Wheeler.”

  “I see. The elder two will occupy each other so that Georgiana may grow closer to Miss Julia. And with three young women here, no one will think they were singled out for my cousin. A wonderful plan, my dear.” He nodded in approval and bowed, turning to leave the room.

  Elizabeth returned her attention to the greenery she had been arranging, placing a bright red holly stem just so. “Thank you. And if Miss Wheeler happens to spend a little time with the colonel, and they happen to come closer to an understanding, we will have done them a kindness.”

  Darcy stopped and turned around slowly until he was facing his wife’s back. “Elizabeth” —he drew her name out—“what are you planning?”

  “Nothing, my love! Nothing at all. I am merely giving our sister an opportunity to make friends while also giving our cousin the chance to know a lady better. It is hardly devious.” She stabbed the last stem into the arrangement and turned to face him, lowering her shears.

  He almost stepped back involuntarily but stopped himself a moment before he moved. “Very well, my dear. I shall trust your judgment.”

  She nodded in thanks and he left the room, wondering if he had just been outmaneuvered.

  That evening, Richard tried to find a moment to speak with Miss Wheeler, but Georgiana kept her friends close.

  He was standing on his own when Elizabeth approached him and said, “You will not succeed like that, Richard.”

  “Oh? And how will I succeed?”

  She nearly sighed. “Really? You can march against Napoleon, but you cannot find a way to talk to a lady in your cousin’s home? I fear for England!” She smiled and walked away, leaving Colonel Fitzwilliam both frustrated and amused.

  Determined, he strolled over to where Miss Wheeler was sitting with the Miss Beechams and Georgiana. He struck up a conversation with the group but, soon enough, the elder Miss Beecham had monopolized his attention and Miss Wheeler had gone off to get a cup of tea.

  He caught Elizabeth’s eye across the room and sent her a pleading look. She looked heavenward but then nodded, causing the colonel to briefly place his hand over his heart in thanks.

  Elizabeth ended her conversation with Lady Aldrington and made her way to the tea table, where Miss Wheeler was standing with Miss Julia just as the latter was leaving.

  “Are you enjoying the evening, Miss Wheeler?” she asked.

  “Oh, yes! Very much so. Thank you for inviting me. It was very kind of you.”

  “Thank you for coming! You are one of our nearest neighbors. I should like to know you better.”

  Miss Wheeler smiled genuinely. “I should like that as well, Mrs. Darcy. Tell me, is Derbyshire much different from where you lived before? I heard you are from the South, but I do not know where.”

  “My father’s estate is in Hertfordshire, and yes, it is quite different.”

  And so they began. They spoke of landscapes and travel, of music and books, the theater and opera, and which plays they favored. After half an hour, Elizabeth realized she had monopolized their guest and had not led the young woman to Richard at all.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam caught up with Elizabeth as she ascended the s
tairs on her husband’s arm.

  “A fine lieutenant you are!” he whispered in her ear as he walked beside her.

  “Why are you whispering to my wife, Fitz?”

  “He is disappointed at my performance in a mutual endeavor,” she said to her husband.

  She turned back to Richard. “All is not lost, Cousin. I did obtain some useful information, and she is here for three more days. We may try again tomorrow.”

  He sighed and nodded, then turned toward the guest wing as Darcy glared at his retreating back.

  As soon as the door was closed on their room, he faced his wife with a stern expression. “What are you and my cousin up to?”

  “Nothing terrible, my dear, and he is my cousin, as well. Or have you already forgotten that what’s yours is now also mine?” She placed her hands on his arms where they were crossed over his chest and smiled sweetly. “Do not be cross with me, love. I am only being practical.” She stretched up and kissed his chin, then disappeared behind the door to her dressing room.

  She was back ten minutes later in a long nightgown and velvet robe. He was sitting on the bed in his banyan with a curious look on his face.

  “What are you thinking of?” She blew out the lone candle and climbed in beside him. She waited patiently for him to begin speaking.

  “What do you mean when you say you are being practical?”

  “Ah. Well, the colonel is your nearest relation and a close friend.” Darcy nodded. “I assumed you cared for his happiness.”

  “I do.”

  “And I am quite fond of him myself.” She felt her husband stiffen beside her. “I have wanted a brother my whole life, and I feel quite lucky to finally have one. I know he is not a brother exactly, but a cousin is close enough and—”

  She could not finish her statement because her husband quickly grabbed her and pulled her beneath the covers with him, smothering her with kisses.

  She laughed and cried, “Fitzwilliam! What has come over you?”

  “I am simply glad to be the only man in your affections, my dear, that is all.”

  She smoothed the hair away from his eyes tenderly. “Did you ever think you were not? Allow me to assure you that you are the only man who has ever touched my heart, and I feel quite certain that you are the only man who ever shall.”