by Meg Osborne
“They’re here!”
“Apparently,” Darcy remarked, with an irritable smile at the sudden fit of shyness that prompted his sister to hide, ineffectually, behind him as the door flew open to admit Mr and Mrs Gardiner, Mr and Mrs Bennet and the five young ladies.
“Mr Darcy!” Mrs Bennet cooed, her previous dislike of him utterly remedied by what she perceived to be his direct intervention in Bingley’s proposal to Jane. “Who is that hiding behind you? Why, this must be the famous sister we have heard so much about. Step into the light, dearie, and be introduced to us. We shan’t bite!”
“Unless you annoy us greatly,” Mr Bennet said with a smile. “Come, my dear Mrs Bennet and let us go into the sitting room. I hardly think stairwells and corridors the best place for new acquaintances.”
Mr Bingley’s appearance in the doorway of the parlour captured Mrs Bennet’s attention and she flounced in that direction on her husband’s arm. Taking a deep breath, Georgiana stepped forward and was met with a warm smile by Elizabeth.
“You must be Georgiana,” she said, her eyes travelling momentarily to Mr Darcy’s and then back to his sister. “You must not mind Mama,” she lowered her voice to a whisper. “She is harmless, or relatively so. Particularly if you are not a wealthy man in need of a wife, would not you say, Mr Darcy?”
“I can scarcely comment,” he replied, but a rogue smirk belied his polite response and he was rewarded with a smile from Elizabeth, who stepped forward and walked with Georgiana.
“When did you arrive?”
“This afternoon, Miss Elizabeth.”
“Oh, call me Lizzy!” Elizabeth said, warmly. “For I have it on good authority that we are going to be great friends.”
“Very well, Lizzy.” Georgiana’s features brightened at the instruction and Darcy was pleased to see the two young ladies he most respected finding a friendship he himself had hoped for.
How is it I only now recognise your kindness, Elizabeth? he silently asked her back, as they walked into the sitting room. Your kindness, your humour, your warmth. How glad I am to see you care for my sister so readily, as I hoped you would. I only wish you might one day grant me the same permission to call you not “Elizabeth” but Lizzy, and not “Miss Bennet” but something else altogether. His lips quirked, at the name that flitted through his brain as fleetingly as a wisp of smoke. “Mrs Darcy.”
AFTER A JOYFUL, FESTIVE meal, filled with good food and neighbourly conversation, everyone retired back to the parlour, where Georgiana was pressed into playing for everyone a selection of Christmas carols. She had won over almost everybody by her skill and self-deprecation: and then proceeded to win even Mary Bennet to her side by suggesting the two play a few songs as duets. This had the effect of drawing Kitty and Lydia into the musical corner, too, as they sought to exhibit their vocal skills and a pretty little chorus came together under Georgiana’s generous tutelage.
“You see, Mr Darcy? Your concerns for your sister were quite unfounded,” she whispered, as she found herself beside Mr Darcy in a quiet corner of the sitting room.
“It was your greeting that gave her the confidence to befriend your sisters,” he replied. “And for that I am grateful. She can be reserved -”
“Like her brother,” Elizabeth put in, fearing he had taken her joke for a slight, as his features rearranged themselves slowly but firmly into a smile.
“Yes, like her brother. I assure you that is about the only way in which we are alike. Georgiana far outstrips me in amiability and optimism.”
Lizzy laughed.
“Well, we certainly cannot accuse you of self-deception, Mr Darcy.”
“Now that I cannot allow. Until quite recently I would argue I was quite adept at deceiving myself.” Colour swept across his cheeks, but Lizzy, emboldened by their growing ease of manner, pressed him to answer.
“I cannot believe it. Mr Darcy, untrue?”
“Mistaken, not untrue - or, not knowingly untrue.”
“And what have you been mistaken about?”
“The first I already alluded to: the nature of the affection between my friend and your sister. I have repented and, I hope, helped to undo any damage I in any way contributed to.” Lizzy nodded, but said nothing, allowing him to continue which, after a pause, he did.
“The second, I confess now, though I wonder at my doing so.” Darcy’s voice had dropped to barely a whisper and when Lizzy glanced at him the look he fixed on her was so serious, so striking that she felt, rather than heard, his response.
“It is you, Miss Elizabeth. I was mistaken in my opinion of you and I deceived myself, for far longer than is admirable, of my indifference.”
“Then you are not...indifferent?” Lizzy’s throat was dry. For one brief, terrifying moment she feared his answer would be worse. She pictured him saying I am not indifferent, in fact, I despise you. She shook off the notion when she felt his gaze once more and saw the ghost of a smile resting on his stormy features. It was a smile she recognised and served to settle her nerves.
“When we went to London it was to spirit Charles away from Miss Bennet: that much I have confessed to. What I have not said was that it was also my own attempt to escape from you. At that, I was still more unsuccessful, for you followed me there.”
Lizzy frowned, opening her mouth to say in no uncertain terms that she had not left Hertfordshire, nor been anywhere close to London this past year.
“Oh, not in person,” Darcy acknowledged. He grimaced, but it was an amusing, self-deprecating expression, utterly different to the proud disapproval he had so often worn previously.
“You shall think me mad. But it seemed to me I saw you everywhere I looked. You were in the faces of strangers I passed on the street, you haunted my evenings. It was my inner self, I do not doubt, tormenting me with the truth I had not yet had the courage to admit to myself or anyone else. No, Elizabeth,” he continued, dropping the “Miss” in his desire to speak earnestly. “I am not indifferent to you.”
Lizzy’s heart was full as her eyes met his.
“Nor I, you, Mr Darcy.”
“I think it entirely possible I may care for you, and I can only hope the thought is not too dreadful-”
Lizzy reached out one hand to stop him from saying more.
“It is not dreadful, Mr Darcy. Not dreadful at all. It is -” she smiled, grateful that the shadows concealed her blush. “It is the very thing I dreamed of.”
Epilogue
“Well, this has been a very merry Christmas indeed!” Mr Bennet smiled benevolently over the dining table at Longbourn.
“Indeed it has, Mr Bennet!” his wife announced, beaming at the five young folk who sat together and garnered most of her interest. Darcy had not intended to sit as close as he was to Elizabeth, but could not help but be grateful to Georgiana, who had determined she wished to sit with Miss Elizabeth on one side and her brother on the other, and would not be argued with, on this of all days.
“I had such a peculiar dream last night!” she declared, after Mrs Gardiner had paid her sister-in-law a particular compliment upon the serving of their dinner, and thus captured Mrs Bennet’s attention away from their small party.
“Oh dear, are you not comfortable at Netherfield?” Jane asked, with a sympathetic frown.
“Very comfortable!” Georgiana replied. “It was mere imagination that kept me awake, I am sure partly due to my excitement at spending Christmas here, amongst such friends as yourself.” She smiled at Jane, and Darcy felt a warmth in his chest at the way his sister had so taken to their neighbours, and how thoroughly she had been welcomed into their circle.
“Well, Georgiana, does the dream bear repeating?” Charles asked, with a grin. “What nonsense forced you into wakefulness at so early an hour?”
“It was not nonsense!” Georgiana protested. She could barely contain a smile and Darcy felt his suspicions rise as she cast a sly glance at him. “In fact, brother, you were its chief character.”
“Oh dear
. I am quite sure I do not wish to hear it, in that case!”
“No, you must, for I am sure you shall find it as amusing as I do, upon reflection.” Georgiana set her cup down, surveying her friends until she was sure she captured their whole attention. “For I dreamed you were married.”
“Married?” Charles exclaimed. “Darcy?”
Darcy concentrated on remaining nonchalant, but even then he could not prevent his gaze from straying towards Elizabeth, who was taking particular interest in the remnants of her plum pudding.
“Do you not care to ask to whom?”
“It seems you care to tell me, sister.”
“It was to Miss Elizabeth!” Georgiana clapped her hands. “You were married, and living at Pemberley. It made for a delightful picture.”
“Delightful?” Lydia Bennet had angled her ear towards their corner of the table in time enough to hear this pronouncement. She snorted with laughter. “Mr Darcy and Elizabeth? I wonder at your calling it a dream, Georgie dear. Surely it was a nightmare!”
Darcy frowned, turning to set the young Miss Lydia straight, until he felt a hand on his shoulder, and realised Elizabeth stood behind him.
“Actually, Lydia, Georgiana’s dream may have been fiction but it need not remain so.” Her voice faltered a little, and Darcy rose to his feet, taking on the challenge of speaking.
“Mr and Mrs Bennet, Mr and Mrs Gardiner.” He cleared his throat. “It was not my intention to raise this matter on Christmas day - or at the dinner table - but it seems providence, or my sister, had another notion in mind.”
“Is something the matter, Mr Darcy?” Mr Bennet asked.
“It is merely the matter of confessing to you that I wish to marry your daughter, Elizabeth.”
Mrs Bennet’s cutlery clattered noisily to her plate.
“Lizzy?” she squeaked. “You wish to marry Lizzy?”
“I do.” Darcy warmed to his topic as he spoke. “We do.”
“How did you decide this?” Mrs Bennet wailed. “When?”
“I would imagine it was when you arrived back from London and saw us by the road, Mr Darcy, or sometime near then?” Mrs Gardiner’s eyes sparkled with fun, and not a glimmer of surprise. “Why else would you be so eager to return straight away to Hertfordshire?”
Darcy had no answer to give, but fortunately at that moment, Georgiana let out a delighted laugh and silenced any need for further words.
“My dream will come true, in that case. And here I thought dreams were of such little consequence as to be scarcely worth remarking upon!”
Darcy turned back to Elizabeth, gathering her hands in his.
“I would not say that, Georgiana. I think in dreams we often see things far more plainly than we might manage in wakefulness, if only we have the courage to act on what we see...”
“Two daughters to wed in the new year!” Mrs Bennet hissed, in a voice that was neither quiet nor subtle. “And to think, Mr Bennet, you declared that this Christmas would be a very dull affair. How wrong you have been! I could never have dreamed of a better!”
The End
Also by Meg Osborne
A Convenient Marriage
A Convenient Marriage Volume 1
Longbourn's Lark: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Three Weeks in Kent: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Suitably Wed: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
A Visit to Scotland: A Pride and Prejudice Variaton
The Consequence of Haste: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
A Surprise Engagement: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Fate and Fortune
Too Fond of Stars: A Persuasion Variation
A Temporary Peace: A Persuasion Variation
Pathway to Pemberley
The Collins Conundrum
The Wickham Wager
The Darcy Decision
Three Sisters from Hertfordshire
A Trip to Pemberley
An Assembly in Bath
An Escape from London
Standalone
After the Letter: A Persuasion Continuation
Half the Sum of Attraction: A Persuasion Prequel
A Very Merry Masquerade: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Novella
The Other Elizabeth Bennet: A Pride and Prejudice Variation Novella
In Netherfield Library and Other Stories
Mr Darcy's Christmas Carol: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Such Peculiar Providence
A Chance at Happiness
The Colonel's Cousin: A Pride and Prejudice Variation
Captain Wentworth's Christmas Wish
Midwinter in Meryton
Watch for more at Meg Osborne’s site.
About the Author
Meg Osborne is an avid reader, tea drinker and unrepentant history nerd. She writes sweet historical romance stories and Jane Austen fanfiction, and can usually be found knitting, dreaming up new stories, or on twitter @megoswrites
Read more at Meg Osborne’s site.