Mr Darcy's Christmas Carol

by Meg Osborne

  Jane’s romance is catching, she thought, wryly recalling Jane’s whispered excitement about being reunited with Mr Bingley. The two girls had sat up late after their sisters and parents had retired to bed discussing precisely what Mr Bingley had meant when he promised to call the next day and speak to Mr Bennet. Jane had downplayed the notion that he wished to speak of marriage, but Lizzy remained convinced that was the case.

  A few hours more and one of us will be proved correct in our assumptions, she thought, lifting her head from the pillow and peering towards the window. She wondered, idly, if Mr Bingley would come alone to see Father, or if Mr Darcy would accompany him. She was succumbing to sleep once more before she could address why such a thing should matter to her...

  Chapter Fourteen

  Darcy could not put into words his relief at reaching Longbourn the next day. It was not so much for his own sake that he was relieved, but for Charles. His friend had barely sat still for a minute all morning and seemed to be in such a high state of agitation that Darcy was almost poised to take the matter out of his hands and demand an answer to the question himself if only to ensure it was asked expediently.

  “Good morning, Mrs Bennet. I wonder if your husband is at home?” he asked, speaking where his friend could not. Upon their arrival at Longbourn, Darcy had expected a repeat of the previous day but was surprised - and somewhat delighted - to see the house’s occupants reduced by half.

  “He is in his study,” Mrs Bennet said, beaming first at Darcy, then Charles. “But please, gentlemen, do come and take tea with us in the sitting room and he will join us very shortly.” She turned away, the very model of politeness shattering with the volume with which she summoned her husband. “Mr Bennet!” she screeched. “They are here! You must not keep them waiting!”

  Her referral to a nameless them suggested to Darcy that both he and his friend had been discussed in their absence, and their call this morning was not only expected, it had been eagerly anticipated, at least by Mrs Bennet. Drawing a breath, he followed his friend into the sitting room, surprised to see but two of the five Bennet daughters there.

  “Good morning Miss Bennet. Miss Elizabeth.”

  Duty satisfied, he selected a seat and gratefully sank into it.

  “Where is everyone this morning?” Charles asked, finding his voice at last. “Darcy and I expected a party.”

  “Alas, you have missed it, in that case,” Elizabeth remarked, stifling a yawn. “My aunt and uncle have taken Mary, Lydia and Kitty into Meryton for the day.” She blinked, and smiled at Jane. “Although we shall be sure to tell them they were missed.”

  “I am surprised you did not go with them, Miss Elizabeth, for I believed you fond of walking above all else,” Darcy observed.

  “Had I gone, I would have been disappointed, in that case,” she said, meeting his eyes. She coloured, slightly, and dropped her gaze. “For they have taken a carriage.”

  Darcy was surprised to see the normally adroit Elizabeth apparently uneasy and was poised to enquire after her health. He noticed dark circles under her eyes and was momentarily concerned that she was unwell, but before he could say a word, Mr Bennet appeared in the doorway.

  “Good morning gentlemen!” he said, cheerfully greeting the new arrivals. “Now, which of you wished to speak to me?” He raised his eyebrows. “My wife has scarcely let me forget that I had a meeting of the utmost importance before me this morning. Do, please, let us embark upon it so that the house may return to its common state of peace.”

  Charles hesitated a moment, before standing, and smiling sheepishly about the room. He followed Mr Bennet back into his study, and Mrs Bennet fluttered anxiously in the doorway, before mumbling some excuse and hurrying after her husband where, Darcy imagined, she would be pressing herself against the study door and straining to hear all that was said within.

  Jane glanced, worriedly, at her sister, and the exchange was not missed by Darcy, who cleared his throat.

  “I believe it will be good news, Miss Bennet, if my friend’s state of nervous agitation is anything to go by.”

  “Good news for whom?” Elizabeth asked, with an arch smile.

  “I imagine that depends on your father, Miss Elizabeth,” he remarked. “What results from my friend’s proposal is entirely out of my hands now.”

  “Now?”

  “As it should ever have been.” Darcy turned directly to Jane, bowing his head. “I apologise for any difficulty my concern for my friend may have caused you.” He returned his gaze to Elizabeth. “To either of you.”

  This was uttered so quickly and simply that it surprised even Darcy. Feel it as he might, he had certainly never intended on uttering such an apology within either of the Miss Bennets’ hearing. Elizabeth’s reaction made his words worth it, though, and he was gratified to see her surprise soften into a smile, which he returned, forgetting for half a moment that there was anybody else in the room besides the two of them.

  A shriek from Mrs Bennet abruptly shattered the illusion, as she came running back into the sitting room, tugging a startled Bingley after her.

  “There! There, Mr Bingley, you may tell Jane your news.” She shoved him towards Jane, who blushed, and stood, wringing her hands expectantly.

  “Mama!” Elizabeth was next to her feet. “Honestly, you are ridiculous. Mr Bingley, don’t say a word. We might at least afford you some privacy.” She glanced over towards Darcy, who obediently stood, and bowed, briefly, towards Jane and his friend, and followed Elizabeth out into the hallway. Mrs Bennet took rather more persuading to leave the couple a moment or two to themselves, that Bingley might inquire whether Jane’s feelings remained unchanged, as his most evidently did.

  “Isn’t it wonderful?” Mrs Bingley clutched her hands to her ample bosom and sighed rapturously. “What a perfect Christmas gift!”

  “Jane has not said yes, yet, Mama.”

  Mrs Bennet turned towards Elizabeth with a worried glance.

  “Oh! You do not think -”

  “Not for a moment,” Elizabeth said, patting her mother gently on the arm. She glanced around the crowded corridor. “But I think, if it is alright with you, I might take a turn about the gardens.”

  Darcy immediately latched onto the least traumatic of the two options open to him for his immediate occupation.

  “Allow me to accompany you, Miss Elizabeth.” The thought of being alone with her might cause his heart to pound somewhat uncomfortably in his chest, and at such a volume that he was certain it was distinguishable by everybody present, but he at least would prefer it to being cooped up with a desperate Mrs Bennet, who would no doubt turn her attentions to him next.

  They walked a few steps in silence, both shivering slightly at the sudden change in temperature.

  “You do not share your mother’s excitement about the promise of a wedding.” It was a statement, rather than a question, but nonetheless, Elizabeth turned to answer it.

  “I do not share my mother’s exhibition of excitement,” she corrected him. “But I am delighted that my sister will be happy. And Mr Bingley, too.” She cast an arch glance at Mr Darcy. “I am surprised to see you pitched in favour of the match, for I felt certain you did not approve.”

  “I did not,” Darcy admitted. “But as I said before, I have changed my mind.” He frowned. “Or do you not believe a man capable of such a thing?”

  “A man, yes,” Elizabeth allowed. “I was less convinced of your ability to change.” She coloured, and ducked her head. “So perhaps I must repent of past positions, also.” She smiled, her eyes dancing with good humour. “What strange effects Christmas is wreaking over us both, Mr Darcy. Do not you feel something strange in the air?”

  Darcy shivered, folding his hands into fists.

  “I certainly feel something cold in the air. Tell me, do you think it possible that even my chatterbox friend has finished uttering his proposal by now, that we might return to the fire?”

  Elizabeth smirked.

&nbs
p; “I am quite sure he has. Whether my mother has let him go from her embrace is another question. Still, at least she will be utterly distracted by him and Jane for the foreseeable future. You might consider yourself safe, Mr Darcy, at least for the present.”

  THE REJOICING AT LONGBOURN was scarcely ceased when both Mr Darcy and Mr Bingley took their leave. Indeed, they were only permitted to part when Mr Bingley had uttered an excitable invitation to the Longbourn party to join them at Netherfield for dinner that very evening.

  “With Darcy’s sister we shall be an extended family indeed!” he had said, his eyes bright. When Mrs Bennet mentioned in passing the absence of his sister, Bingley had blinked, as if recalling quite by chance that Caroline was not there.

  “She will be there in spirit, I am sure,” Elizabeth had put in, and the momentary silence had been roundly got over.

  Longbourn itself had been taken over by a spirit of joy all day, so that Elizabeth was barely permitted a moment alone with Jane until she stole her sister away to “ready themselves for the evening”, which mean dismissing Jane as “perfectly lovely” and working to wrestle her own dark curls into submission, whilst quizzing her sister on every detail of Mr Bingley’s proposal.

  “I am so happy for you, Jane!” She sighed, turning away from the mirror, at last, to regard the figure of her sister, sitting primly on the edge of Lizzy’s bed.

  “I think I am happy for myself, too,” Jane admitted, with a self-deprecating laugh. “Although I can scarcely credit it to be true. To think, Lizzy, just a few days ago we were convinced we would never see Mr Bingley or Mr Darcy again, and now here they are returned to us just in time for Christmas!”

  “Indeed,” Lizzy mused, recalling how changed at least one of those gentlemen seemed to have been by their short trip away. She felt as if she and Mr Darcy had spoken more to one another in the past twenty-four hours than in the entirety of their acquaintance, and she was still more surprised to find herself enjoying their interactions. His scowl, which she had become so inured to as to consider it his true face, had faded and been replaced by an openness of manner and feature that was almost...handsome.

  “What are you thinking about, Lizzy?” Jane asked, tossing a hair-ribbon towards her. “I have every excuse to be vacant at present, for my mind is already turning with notions of weddings and where Mr Bingley and I might make our home once we are wed.” She blushed, prettily, as she uttered the word. “But what is your excuse?” Her happy countenance faded. “You do not regret the match?”

  “Regret it?” Lizzy laughed. “Hardly! I only regret how long it took you to reach an agreement, for if I had had my way, you would have been wed after your first dance.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I own that Providence perhaps knew better.”

  “Providence or Mr Darcy,” Jane remarked, carelessly. “Do you know, Lizzy, it was at his insistence that the pair returned so speedily to Hertfordshire? Charles - that is, Mr Bingley - credits him entirely with hastening to Longbourn that we might settle the matter just as soon as we could. Do not you think that most kind of him?”

  “Most kind,” Lizzy agreed, adding this detail to her newly-transformed mental picture of Mr Darcy.

  “Apparently he, too, was eager to return to Hertfordshire, despite having his own house in London where he might comfortably wait out the season in solitude, should he have wished it. Bingley reckons on some strange occurrences in Darcy’s mind over the past few days.” She shook her head. “He spoke of a night of restlessness, bad dreams that propelled Darcy to change. Is that not strange? I thought Mr Darcy an utterly logical man, unshaken by mere imaginings.”

  Elizabeth laughed, but she was reminded of her own nightly imaginings the previous evening. She would always have said the same was true of herself: that she was too sensible to allow herself to be swept away in dreaming, and yet she had been unable to rid Mr Darcy from her mind, and in fact, had found herself strangely shy around him all day, as if her dream had permitted her to see a side of their neighbour that she had not heretofore known existed, let alone appreciated. Perhaps he was not different at all: it was merely that she was able to see what he previously kept hidden.

  “There! You are lost to me again!” Jane chided, with a musical laugh. “I know you said you slept poorly last night, Lizzy. Are you well enough to come to dinner this evening? Whilst you would be missed, I am sure everyone would understand if you prefer to rest...”

  “No!” Lizzy said, with an urgency that surprised her. “No,” she softened her voice. “I am eager to go, Jane, and see you at pride of place with your husband-to-be.” She linked her arm through Jane’s and the two girls began to descend the stairs. “In any case, I am excited to see Mr Darcy’s sister, Georgiana. I have promised to be her friend, and you must help me, Jane, if she is as stern as he is wont to be.”

  As she said the words she felt their untruth and frowned.

  “Although, I wager you are right, for he has not seemed half so stern to me of late as he did before their party departed for London. Perhaps we must rejoice in whatever bad dreams prompted Mr Darcy’s return, for they have sent him back to us a changed man. A far pleasanter one, at that.”

  “Far pleasanter,” Jane agreed, but she shot her sister a surprised, amused look that Elizabeth chose not to notice.

  “Girls!” Mrs Bennet heralded them from the front doorway. “Are you ready at last? We are going to be late. Where is Lydia? Oh, Kitty, dear! You cannot possibly wish to wear all that lace. This is only an informal dinner after all. Come here -”

  Lizzy let go of Jane’s arm, for her sister wished to speak a word with their father, and sidestepped the rest of her family for the door, making her way alone towards the carriage. Her mind was still on Mr Darcy, and she felt her heart speed up at the thought of the evening ahead of them. She was excited to meet the famed Georgiana, as she had confessed to Jane, but she was perhaps even more excited to be reunited with Mr Darcy himself. She bit her lip. How strange it was to feel so differently about a man she had previously counselled herself to dislike. She pinched herself, hard, on the forearm, to determine she was not still in her dream-world of the night before.

  “Ouch!” she exclaimed aloud, and rubbed at the offending pinch, fearing it would bruise before the evening was out. She coloured at her silliness, and the warmth remained in her cheeks. It was not a dream, then. She could not blame her excitement to see Mr Darcy on anything other than her own real feelings.

  She was glad when her sisters began to pile into the carriage after her, for their excited chatter prohibited any further dwelling on her thoughts or feelings, and she determined to do her best to ignore them and enjoy the evening without worrying.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Georgiana had barely been still for a quarter of an hour altogether. Since arriving at Netherfield, she had embraced her brother, rejoiced with Charles Bingley at the news of his engagement and hurried to bring Darcy up to date on all the happenings at Rosings. Lady Catherine was, by all accounts, rather disappointed that her curate had been seemingly spurned by the Bennets, who must think very highly of themselves indeed to spurn such a practical match. Still, the newly arrived Mrs Collins - nee Lucas - was proving herself amiable and useful and utterly redeemed her husband, which person Georgiana did not greatly esteem.

  “He made such a funny figure, William, that I could scarcely attend to all he said, I was struggling so hard to maintain my composure and not betray myself by laughing at his continuous sermonizing.” She smiled, bowing her head contritely. “Still, he appeared to think very highly of you and by extension, I think I endeared myself to him as well. And he did not speak too unkindly of his “spirited cousin Elizabeth”, though I wager his opinion was tempered by his wife, for I believe it to be true that Charlotte Collins is a great friend of Miss Elizabeth’s.”

  Here, Georgiana, at last, paused for breath, fixing her attention squarely on her brother, so that Darcy was forced to offer a disinterested “Hmmm” in response. The appe
arance of disinterest, anyway, for he found his ears pricked up at every mention Georgiana made of Elizabeth, though the two young women were at present nought but names to one another.

  “I was surprised to hear of your return to Hertfordshire, brother, and still more by your summoning me here for Christmas.”

  Darcy frowned and Georgiana hurried to placate him

  “Oh, do not misunderstand me, William. I am delighted to be here, for I have not seen enough of you since - since Ramsgate.” Georgiana’s happy manner faltered a fraction and he reached his hand out, resting it gently on Georgiana’s clenched fists.

  “We needn’t talk of it, Georgiana, unless you wish to.” His lips quirked. “Not to me, either. I am sure you will find a firm friend in Miss Bennet. That is, Miss Elizabeth. Should you wish to discuss the matter with one more inclined to understand your feminine sensibilities...” he trailed off, feeling inordinately aware of the curious stare his sister had fixed upon him.

  “That is the third time you have mentioned Miss Elizabeth in the past quarter hour,” she observed, with a knowing smile.

  “Is it?” Darcy shrugged. “If she has been a feature of our conversation it is likely because you sought to mention her after your meeting with Mr Collins. There can be no other reason.”

  “Indeed.” Georgiana laughed. “Well, I shall turn your words back upon you, brother, and declare there is no need for us to discuss it further. Come! Do permit me to see the house a little more before your friends arrive. I would ask Mr Bingley for a tour but he looks so out of his depth in arranging the particulars of our dinner that I could not dream of adding to his anxieties.” She slid her arm through the crook of Darcy’s and drew him to his feet.

  The pair were making their way back downstairs when Georgiana discerned the sound of a carriage approaching and pushed Darcy forward.