by Jann Rowland
“How festive is the transformation of Longbourn!” said Jane in appreciation of the change wrought. “As always, my anticipation of Christmastime is equaled and even surpassed by the artistry of the decorations displayed throughout the manor, but especially in this room. This gives expression to Christmas and typifies the spirit prevalent at this time of the year.
“Of course, I most look forward to attending tomorrow’s morning service. The holly and ivy adorning the entrance to the chapel are always exquisite to behold. Furthermore, I find the Christmas sermon to be my favorite of the year.”
“As long as the vicar does not include mention of that infernal Fordyce,” declared Mr. Bennet, who had entered the room behind Jane, “I will be content. I shall never understand why he insists upon frequent references to that charlatan in defiance of my injunction to the contrary.”
“Now, Papa,” said Elizabeth, “allow him this instance of disobedience without reprimand. You must look upon his freedom to form his sermon in the manner he wishes as a symbol of the gift we have all been given and commemorate on this day more than at any other time. This, after all, is the reason for our celebration, is it not?”
Mr. Bennet grunted, though Elizabeth could not be sure whether it was in agreement, and after surveying the room, he declared the decorations acceptable before returning to his library and the solitude of his many tomes.
Elizabeth approached the window again to peer through its panes, now frosted by the frigid north wind blowing the rainfall at the house with ever increasing strength. The storm’s ferocity had doubled, with the torrent now appearing to be driven sideways by a wind freshened to the force of a gale. In an instant, her sense of unease returned, and with it came renewed fear for the welfare of the travelers whom she and her sister awaited.
“It looks as if this inclement weather has become less amenable to those foolish enough to be out of doors,” said Jane, who had stepped to Elizabeth’s side to gaze through the window’s panes, which were now rattling with each fresh gust of wind. “I should not think to see Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy arrive tonight, as they will have sought rooms in which to wait for the elements to calm somewhat before setting out anew. Mr. Darcy must no doubt have concluded it folly to continue their journey in weather of this nature.”
“I pray your supposition is correct,” said Elizabeth. “I would much prefer that he conclude his journey uninjured two days hence than to know I was the cause of a foolish bid to effect a speedy return at such a time when the prudent course is for an exercise of patience.” Still, despite her statements to the contrary, in Elizabeth’s heart nestled the desire for his arrival to take place before the night was concluded.
In vain, she remained by the window, hoping to serve as witness to the triumphal entrance of the two travelers. To quell her growing distress, she recommenced working on a piece of embroidery she had discarded earlier in the day. Her progress was halting, with numerous stoppages caused by her penchant for introspection as thoughts of Mr. Darcy arose unbidden with ever-increasing regularity. At last, as her eyes began to close of their own accord, she set the needlework aside and took herself to her bed, where, with a silent prayer for the eventual arrival of the two gentlemen, she closed her eyes.
Elizabeth was the first to rise the next morning, as was her custom. Donning her dressing gown, she stepped to her bedchamber window, where the sight which greeted her was of a world shrouded in a blanket of white, the rain having changed to snow that fell in fat, lazy flakes, although at an intensity sharply reduced from the deluge of the previous day. Gone too was the fearsome wind; having laid an effective claim to its supremacy, it had dissipated, stealing away like a thief in the night.
With haste born of her anxiety and impatience, Elizabeth dressed and bustled down the stairs to the manor entrance. Throwing open the immense door, she surveyed the perfect scene before her of a landscape painted in white, thus far unmarred by the print of man or beast.
“Is there a sign of their arrival?” asked Jane, who waited at the foot of the staircase, concern etched upon her brow.
“I see only undisturbed snow,” said Elizabeth. “I presume they are delayed by last evening’s poor weather. If so, I do not expect them to reach Hertfordshire before tomorrow.
“Now, come, Jane. Let us prepare for the Christmas services at church.” Elizabeth shooed her sister away from the entrance and to the dining room, where Mrs. Hill had laid out a hearty breakfast in preparation for their yule observance.
The meal became a family affair, as each member, upon learning it was prepared, came downstairs to partake of the sumptuous fare. The conversation was muted, as each of the Bennets found more interest in the appetizing offerings than in entertaining a discussion of any substance.
“The time has come to prepare for the vicar’s Christmas sermon,” said Mr. Bennet once he finally rose from the table to conclude the meal. “We will leave for the parish in one hour; your participation, as you know, is required.” This last was directed to Lydia and Kitty, both of whom were unapologetically resistant to the idea of church attendance on such a day.
Elizabeth, wanting to arrive at the chapel early, extended what aid she could in hastening the preparations of her two youngest sisters, over their strenuous objections. In short order, all were ready to depart, and the Bennet carriage was brought to the door, accompanied by the landau which had carried the Gardiners from London. Once arguments about seating arrangements had been settled and assigned positions assumed, the carriages departed Longbourn village for the short ride to the church.
When first she alit from the transport, Elizabeth was equal parts surprised and pleased to discover Mr. Darcy waiting for her with Mr. Bingley at his side. Standing apart from the men was Mr. Darcy’s sister, Georgiana. Delighted by their safe return, Elizabeth hurried, as much as proper decorum would allow, to greet them.
“It is a relief to find you in attendance, but more especially to see that you seem safe and well,” said she when near enough to speak without needing to raise her voice. “I was concerned that you and Mr. Bingley had pressed on in spite of the weather, and I feared some harm may have reached you.”
“We were fortunate,” said Mr. Darcy, “in that we did not encounter foul weather until we had neared the environs of Hertfordshire. The final leg of the journey was somewhat perilous, but the majority of our travel was conducted in relative comfort. For this, I am thankful, as my sister made the choice to come with us on our return to Netherfield, and I could not deny her wish to spend Christmas Day together.”
Elizabeth turned to Georgiana and gathered the girl into her arms, encasing her in a brief and welcoming hug. “Georgiana, it is so good to see you again,” said she, “and on this most precious of holidays besides. I look forward to sharing the latest news with you after the service and hope you will do the same with me.”
Lowering her voice so only Georgiana could hear, she added: “Mr. Darcy has informed me of the posting of that scoundrel Wickham to the Scottish border. I am so glad he will not be allowed to bother you again.”
Elizabeth released her friend and stepped back to regard Mr. Darcy. “Miss Darcy is fortunate, indeed, to have a brother so devoted. I commend the love and devotion you have shown in affording her the comfort and companionship of her only family at this special time.”
Elizabeth glanced around briefly. “But what of Miss Bingley and Mr. and Mrs. Hurst? Did they remain at Netherfield this morning?”
“Caroline wished to celebrate Christmastide in London,” said Mr. Bingley. “She was able to persuade Mr. and Mrs. Hurst to accompany her, as they also wished to return to the city.” Leaning close to Elizabeth, he said in a voice so soft it was barely above a whisper’s volume: “I guess they are not as enamored of Hertfordshire as Mr. Darcy and I are.”
Before she could offer a reply, Mr. Bennet bade the party enter the chapel for the Christmas observance. Mr. Darcy offered one arm to Elizabeth and the other to his sister, and together, they
joined those already seated in anticipation of the yule liturgy.
Elizabeth’s enjoyment of the ceremony was curtailed by the irreverence of the two youngest Bennets, whose carryings-on were noted by most of those close to them. Of necessity, she was called upon to quiet their whispers and calm the fidgeting mannerisms with which each girl was infected, to no avail. In a final act born of desperation, she separated the two, placing Lydia beside Mr. Darcy and Kitty next to herself; in so doing, she was at last able to turn her attention to the parson, who by this time had nearly finished his exhortations.
The saving grace, to Elizabeth at least, was the unchanging nature of his Christmas service; this vicar, who had assumed the living twelve years before, delivered the same lesson each year, with nary a word amended. While her preference was to give the parson’s words her full attention, the peaceful and joyous feeling this Christmas encouraged in her heart was ample reward for her attendance.
“Will you and the rest of the Netherfield party join us in our celebration at Longbourn?” asked Mr. Bennet as they filed from the chapel at the conclusion of the service.
“We do not wish to intrude,” said Mr. Darcy. “This is a time to spend with family and those whom we love; I fear our presence could detract from your appreciation of one another.”
“Take no thought to the matter,” replied Mr. Bennet. “I know my two eldest daughters will enjoy the company, and to be truthful, I will as well, as it gives me the joy of conducting a conversation with someone not of the female persuasion.”
“I would be honored,” said Mr. Darcy, “and I can with confidence accept for Mr. Bingley. Am I correct in assuming your overture includes my sister?”
“You have no need to ask,” said Mr. Bennet. “I cannot presume to exclude a member of your family, especially one who is a friend of my Lizzy.”
“Then it is settled,” declared Mr. Darcy. “We will make our way to Longbourn within the hour.”
As promised, the guests arrived before the expiration of the hour in a grand coach, which stopped to disgorge Georgiana before continuing around to the kitchen entrance, where Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley stepped from the vehicle. Mr. Darcy summoned a stablehand and exchanged a few quiet words with him, whereupon he and Mr. Bingley returned to the main entrance. Then, in the company of Georgiana, they entered the manor.
“Welcome to Longbourn once again,” greeted Mr. Bennet, who had been waiting for their arrival, which only spoke to his eagerness for more varied company. “Did you encounter a problem with your transport? I saw you chose not to stop, but rather continued around to the rear of the manor.”
“I requested aid on an issue from the boy who was summoned to tend the horses,” said Mr. Darcy. “It is of minor importance and will be resolved before we take our leave tonight.”
“I see,” said Mr. Bennet. “I hope it causes no significant problem. I suppose we might now join the company of those in the sitting room.” Turning, he led the party along the hall to a room where sounds of lively discussions merged with the noises of children at play, the effect being a joyous mixture of incongruous harmony.
Into this bedlam, Mr. Bennet led the newly arrived visitors. Their entrance caused a cessation of the noise for a brief moment before it resumed once again.
The two gentlemen, accompanied by Miss Darcy, greeted Mrs. Bennet before seeking permission from Jane and Elizabeth to sit with them, a request which was granted without delay. As the men seated themselves, Lydia and Kitty, in what for them was an unusual bit of welcoming behavior, invited Georgiana to join them in their amusements.
They passed most of the afternoon in this manner until Mrs. Hill appeared and beckoned for Mr. Darcy to join her in conversation, to the apparent confusion of Jane and Elizabeth and the seeming amusement of Mr. Bingley. A few words were exchanged, and Mr. Darcy disappeared from view, causing further bewilderment, particularly with regard to the more vocal Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips. After fifteen minutes had elapsed, Mr. Darcy still had not reappeared, and Mrs. Bennet could no longer contain her curiosity.
“Has a problem arisen with Mr. Darcy’s carriage?” asked Mrs. Bennet. "If so, why was Mrs. Hill sent to inform him?” When an answer was not offered, she laid her hand upon the bell and rang it once to summon her maid. The bell’s peal was answered by Mr. Darcy, who stepped to the door clad in a cooking apron, to the astonishment of all but Mr. Bingley, who stepped forward to join him, donning an apron Mr. Darcy extended to him, an act that caused smiles to break forth on the faces of many in attendance.
Attention now turned to Mr. Darcy, whose own face was wreathed in a smile of complete joy. “I drove my carriage to the kitchen door so as to provide Mrs. Hill with six Christmas turkeys I had purchased and brought for this occasion,” said he. “I spoke with your dear servant and instructed her to prepare them for the Christmas meal, and she has now finished doing so.”
“This is much more than we will consume,” said Mrs. Bennet. “I thank you for the generosity you have shown, but I am afraid we will need to dispose of a great part of this magnificent repast when it is not eaten.”
“Fear not,” said Mr. Darcy. “My intention is to show my appreciation for those who have served without complaint this past year. My instructions to Mrs. Hill were to see to the preparation of these six fowl. Two of the birds are set aside for the occupants of this manor, but the others have been sent to those residents of Longbourn who are not as fortunate. They are at present enjoying a feast comparable to our own; Mr. Bingley and I have donned these aprons to act as servers for this banquet so that the house staff may join the festivities with the rest of your tenants and servants. This was a tradition established long ago by my own father, and it is one I have carried on in his stead.
“Now, if you please, I would request your presence at the table, where your Christmas meal awaits.”
Miss Elizabeth sat unmoving as everyone repaired to the other room to seat themselves for their feast. Darcy, noting her lack of movement, came up beside her where she sat at the fire, gazing into the flames.
“Will you not join your family in partaking of the meal?” asked Darcy with concern born of love. “Or has a mistake on my part brought sorrow to you?”
Miss Elizabeth looked up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Your gesture has overwhelmed me, Mr. Darcy. Never have I been witness to such a display of love and charity for others.”
Darcy beheld the young woman, his heart overfull with the love which had blossomed in him throughout the past several months. Her visible emotion touched him, and in that instant, he came to the conclusion there was no other for him. In a moment he would forever recall with tenderness, he dropped to a knee and took her hand in his. Nearly overcome with emotion, he brought the hand to his lips to brush it lightly with a kiss.
“Miss Bennet,” said he with a voice grown husky with fervor, “you are the only one for me. You occupy my waking hours and fill my dreams with your presence when I try, unsuccessfully, to find sleep. I can envision no future without you to share it beside me. Please accept this offer of marriage and allow me to reclaim even a small portion of the sanity I have sacrificed in my preoccupation with you.”
“How shall I answer?” responded Miss Elizabeth, her words inspiring fear to invade Mr. Darcy’s heart and threaten his composure. “I, too, have experienced profound growth in the level of my feelings toward you. I have entertained thoughts of our life together should you offer and have been sure of my response.”
Darcy felt dread and the expectation of her refusal of his proposal. Near desperation, he opened his mouth to commence a final effort to convince her of the advantages that would be hers should she agree to wed him. His words, however, were stopped before they could be uttered, as Elizabeth began again to speak.
“I will be the happiest, proudest, and most sublime creature ever to exist upon becoming the wife of Mr. Fitzwilliam Darcy.”
Darcy remained still for a moment, unsure of his correct interpretation of her state
ment until he brought his gaze to fasten upon her face. The joy which shone in her eyes soon relieved his trepidation, and murmuring her name, he grasped her hand to press a kiss upon it.
Springing to his feet, Darcy led her to the dining room and the company of her family. Mr. Bennet, upon witnessing their entrance, looked at Darcy and gave a nod that the latter took as affirmation of his approval of their intended union. Darcy had never been happier than he felt in that moment.
Elizabeth, ever careful of her mother’s feelings and mortified in her presumption of the reaction that the news of her engagement might provoke in the woman, waited until night arrived and their guests departed before she informed Mrs. Bennet of what her father had known for most of the evening hours.
At mid-morning the next day, Elizabeth witnessed the arrival of Mr. Darcy in a carriage of grander size than the one he had ridden the day before. With him was Mr. Bingley, looking for all the world as one who wished to have remained within the warmth of his sheets. Stepping to the window, she observed as Mr. Darcy and his friend made their way to the Longbourn tenants’ homes, their arms laden with boxes. An hour and a half passed before she next spied them, trudging through the unmelted snow to the manor. In haste, she tidied her hair and waited in the sitting room to greet them.
