Mr Darcy's Miracle at Longbourn

by Rose Fairbanks

  “I shall not.” Her middle sister frowned and looked possessively—for some inexplicable reason—at a man in a red coat.

  Lydia scrunched her eyes, at first not knowing the man. Suddenly, remembering his name, without a clue or care as to when she met him, she laughed. “Do not worry, Colonel Fitzwilliam is safe from me. What good is a red coat if he is not jolly?”

  Lydia skipped through the drawing room to the tune of an imaginary song.

  “I do feel a great inclination to dance,” Mr. Darcy said, which caused Elizabeth to erupt in laughter.

  Lydia stopped in her tracks. What on earth? Mr. Darcy wanted to dance? And from Lizzy’s reaction, he teased or joked. Impossible!

  “Deck the halls!” Lydia cried as she scurried to the basket with spare holly. “No one is in the holiday mood.” She added several sprigs around the room and then attacked the fireplace, stirring up the flames. “See the blazing yule before us.”

  As always, her faithful assistant Kitty followed suit. The girls linked arms and spun each other around the room as they sang.

  “Follow me in merry measure!” Lydia sang, and this time several others joined in.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam leaned his head towards Mary’s ear and said something to her. Surprisingly, she smiled and went to the pianoforte.

  “Fast away the old year passes!” Lydia bellowed at the top of her lungs. “Hail the new ye lads and lasses!”

  “Fa la la la la la la,” the rest of the room chorused.

  Soon, everyone was dancing to the spirited song. As Lydia sang and stomped through the dance, she felt as though she might fly away. Her senses would leave her body, and she would be nothing but a ball of sensation and feeling. Giddiness rose up in her, like when she drank too much punch at a ball. She could not contain the carefree attitude that nothing would ever go wrong as long as there were laughter and dancing.

  The tea arrived, and Lydia sat to catch her breath. Mary continued playing lively songs, and the others were all employed. Miss Darcy came to her side and made a cup.

  “I would speak with you, Miss Lydia,” the shy girl said.

  “La, must it be now?”

  “I will be brief while you enjoy your refreshment.”

  “Very well.” Lydia rolled her eyes. She did not care how rich the girl was or how beautiful her dress was. She was not going to be scolded by someone ten seconds older than her.

  “I have also admired a red coat,” Miss Darcy spoke to her hands.

  “I will only marry a soldier, I am sure.”

  “I suppose others have talked to you about how little they earn.”

  “Some of them have money from their family. I daresay your cousin does.” Lydia nodded in his direction. “Besides, what do I care about being rich? I will be a popular soldier’s wife and dance every night!”

  “I once thought I was in love enough not to have a care about income either,” Miss Darcy said sadly. “I even consented to an elopement.”

  Suddenly the young lady was far more interesting. Lydia put her plate and cup down with a clatter, hardly heard over the din of the others. “How romantic! What happened? Are you married in secret?” She leaned forward to hear more of the juicy tale. Visions of doing the same with a specific officer whose name started with W filled her head.

  “Oh, it is not so exciting.” Miss Darcy shrugged. “Fitzwilliam arrived, and I could not bear to grieve him with the secret. He was outraged when he heard, not only my plans but also with whom I intended to leave.”

  “He is the perfect match for Lizzy, then. She is always trying to ruin my fun!”

  Miss Darcy shook her head. “No, I quite deserved his disapprobation. Well, the man would not stay and marry me with my guardian’s consent. Fitzwilliam said he wanted only my fortune.”

  “How vile! To pretend to be so in love as to need an elopement and really be a fortune hunter. You are well rid of him!”

  “Yes, I agree. However, I think you know him.”

  “Who?” Lydia asked, savouring the gossip.

  “George Wickham. I have seen him dine here.”

  “The one your brother cheated out of money?” Lydia leaned back and folded her arms over her chest. Glaring at Miss Darcy, she said, “Did you ever think he lied to you?”

  “No, he showed me proof of giving Wickham money instead of the living. He showed me Wickham’s letter declining the position. He had come to my brother for money time and time again. And...then he found me at Ramsgate and had even known my governess. He hates my brother.”

  “That is his problem.” Lydia stood to leave, but Miss Darcy grabbed her arm.

  “Please, believe me. He is not as innocent as he seems. Do you see the redness around Elizabeth’s neck? Do you see the bruising on my brother’s chin?”

  Lydia’s eyes darted to them as they danced and laughed. She had not noticed those marks on her sister or Darcy before.

  “He was going to hurt Elizabeth if Fitzwilliam did not offer him an estate and money. He held a knife to her throat.”

  Lydia gasped. “Why did I hear nothing of it? Why do I not remember?”

  She began to grow dizzy as she reconsidered what she knew of the man. Wickham had not told his stories about Darcy until after he had left the area. He lied to Lizzy about coming to the ball. He made moony eyes at Miss King now that she had inherited ten thousand pounds.

  “Your father and sisters wish to keep you safe,” Miss Darcy cautioned. “It is not merely Wickham. Any man might be a cad.”

  Over the noise of Mary’s playing and the happy singing of the others, Lydia heard the clock chime seven times. Had she not just heard it? Before she could voice her question, she felt herself stumble forward and was caught by Miss Darcy. Her arms were out as though she had expected such a thing. Miss Darcy eased herself and Lydia to the floor.

  Good King Wenceslas

  Longbourn

  December 23, 1811

  Mr. Bennet had been watching the liveliness in his drawing room with a smile. Mrs. Bennet sat at his side, holding his hand. He had thought the time loop finished, but then Mrs. Bennet suffered through an epiphany, so it appeared others had something to learn. While they all fell asleep, at least they managed to stay in one place rather than separate to various locations or endure extreme jumps in time. He supposed that was because Darcy and Elizabeth had worked past their differences. By his count, time had reset twice since then.

  “They are so well-matched, Thomas,” she said sweetly, reminding him of the woman he married five and twenty years before.

  “Do I have you back?” he asked.

  Fanny gave him a shy smile. “Yes, I am sorry I was lost for a little while.” She shrugged her shoulders. “I was so worried about having an heir and then about the girls.”

  “And I was no help at all,” he finished. “We will begin again. You have nothing to fear now that the older three are to marry, and Kitty and Lydia need more time.”

  “I fear what will become of them,” Fanny whispered. “I spoiled them terribly and did them a grave disservice.”

  “We both did,” he acknowledged.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Lydia talking with Miss Darcy. If he were not mistaken, they spoke of her encounter with Wickham, and Lydia was proving quite a difficult audience. Unexpectedly, Lydia seemed to reconsider.

  Mr. Bennet glanced at the mantle clock. It was nearing seven o’clock again. Returning his eyes to Lydia, he saw her collapse and Miss Darcy catch her before the clock reset once more.

  “Oh dear,” Miss Darcy exclaimed as she sank to the floor under the weight of Lydia.

  Instantly, the music and laughter ceased as everyone momentarily succumbed. Upon awakening, Lydia still slept, trapping Georgiana beneath her. Everyone scrambled to her side. Darcy reached her first. Lifting Lydia off his sister, he laid her on a settee and then left her to the care of her parents while seeing to Miss Darcy.

  Fanny perched on the edge of the settee and soothingly stroked Lydia’
s face and arms until she came to.

  “Papa,” she said before even opening her eyes.

  Mr. Bennet’s heart thrilled. He had never seen his younger daughters rely on him. They had always belonged solely to their mother.

  “Papa, you must hear about Mr. Wickham,” Lydia said as a line furrowed between her brows. “You must keep my sisters safe. He hurt Lizzy!”

  “Hush,” Mr. Bennet said and kissed her forehead. “All is well. Darcy saved her.”

  “Who will save the others?” she asked, her bottom lip trembling.

  “What will you have me do?” he asked. He could not even be sure what day it was.

  “Call for your hat,” Lydia demanded.

  Looking into her blue eyes, the perfect picture of her mother, Mr. Bennet found that he could not refuse her one and only reasonable request.

  “Call for Hill!” he said, and Lizzy pulled the bell cord.

  “I will go with you,” Bingley said at his side. “I am a member of the community and must take an interest in the area.”

  Mr. Bennet nodded. “Darcy, Colonel, do you feel compelled to go, too?”

  He watched as Elizabeth slipped her hand in Darcy’s and squeezed it tight. “I think it would be wise to allow cooler heads to prevail,” Darcy said.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam agreed. “If you do not meet with a satisfactory answer, my sword would love to become better acquainted with him.”

  Beside him, Mary smiled slightly. Mr. Bennet watched in awe. If he could have guessed, he would have thought Mary would have been attracted to the austere Mr. Darcy, and Lizzy pleased with the fun-loving colonel.

  He said his goodbyes and set off at a brisk pace. It was too late in the evening to call for his carriage, but the moon shone brightly, reflected all the more by a layer of snowfall. The wind began to blow by the time they reached the town of Meryton and the quarters of Colonel Forster.

  “Mr. Bennet,” he said, looking up from his desk. “I am surprised to see you so close to Christmas.”

  Bingley and Mr. Bennet shared a glance. If the calendar had advanced normally, they would be past Twelfth Night. How many people were affected by their time loop?

  “I did not know of your return, Mr. Bingley. Welcome. And accept my thanks for the ball you hosted last month. My wife has not stopped speaking of it.”

  “Nor mine,” Mr. Bennet chuckled while Bingley blushed at the praise. Clearing his throat, Mr. Bennet got to his point. “We have come on business regarding one of your officers.”

  Glancing from one man to the other and with concern marring his face, the colonel motioned to some chairs. “In that case, you had better sit.” He passed out drinks.

  Leaving out some personal details, Mr. Bennet relayed the truth of Mr. Wickham’s history with the Darcys. When he had finished, Colonel Forster furrowed his brow and rubbed his eyes.

  “As dreadful as that story is, he has done nothing criminal, and I cannot expel him from my regiment.”

  “We only ask that you curb his ability to gossip about the Darcys and keep an eye on his behaviour. He has many debts, I understand.” Mr. Bennet looked at Bingley for corroboration.

  “Yes, he does. Darcy has bought the ones in Town and in Lambton. Wickham must be careful or face prison.” Taking a deep breath and glancing at Mr. Bennet, who nodded in support, Bingley told of Wickham’s attack on Elizabeth and Darcy.

  “Impossible,” Forster muttered and rubbed at his eyes again. “He was on duty that night.”

  “And just how many nights was that?” Bingley asked.

  Forster threw his hand down on the desk and gave Bingley a stern look. “What do you mean?”

  “As a colonel of the regiment, you must take meticulous notes,” Mr. Bennet answered. “How many entries for December twenty-third do you have?”

  “How could you know?” He blinked at the men. “I thought I was going mad!”

  “We seem to the be recipients of some Christmas magic.” Mr. Bennet smiled. “We are being given the opportunity to relive a day until we realise some extreme failing we have and learn to manage the day correctly.”

  “I see,” the colonel answered. “But what do I have to do? What have I to learn?” “I fear the weight is on our shoulders, and perhaps Wickham’s,” Mr. Bennet explained. “All you must do is believe we tell the truth. If we get our own houses in order, your calendar ought to move forward at a regular pace again.”

  “In the meantime, pray, keep a close watch on Wickham,” Bingley said.

  “Of course,” Forster answered.

  The gentlemen then departed, finding the return trip not as uncomfortable as before.

  “You handled that quite well,” Mr. Bennet said, looking at his soon-to-be son. “I was thankful for your presence.”

  Bingley shook off the compliment. “I have been thinking for days that I have learned much from not wanting to be like you.” He glanced at Mr. Bennet. “I mean no offence. One can easily draw a comparison between us. You avoid making decisions as much as I do, although perhaps out of different motives.”

  Mr. Bennet nodded in agreement.

  “Now,” Bingley continued, “I see that I have much to learn from you.”

  To their astonishment, the town’s clock tower began to chime. Clutching the wall of a building, they braced for the dizzy spell.

  While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night

  Longbourn

  December 23, 1811

  Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner arrived at Longbourn as dusk was falling. Their four children spilt out of the carriage in alternate states of exhausted and energetic. Giving each other an indulgent smile, they followed behind their children and the maid they had brought.

  “Edward, Margaret, you are most welcome.” Mrs. Bennet greeted them cheerfully but without her typical exuberance.

  A confused look passed between them, but they bustled into the drawing room as their children went upstairs to the nursery. Mr. Bennet greeted them and explained his daughters would soon be in from walking in the garden. Then most surprising of all, their sister asked after them and calmly listened to news from London rather than complain about whatever crisis she unjustly faced. In fact, watching her, one would think she had never been perturbed in her life.

  The sound of laughter drew their notice, and their two youngest nieces filed in. Lydia had grown much since they last saw her. Instead of seeming as though she bounced from place to place, she walked calmly and welcomed them before sitting. Requests of presents, which usually served as a greeting, never fell from her lips. Kitty came next, looking worriedly at Lydia; she barely spared her aunt and uncle a glance.

  Mary, Elizabeth, and Jane came through the door almost on top of one another. Smiles lit their faces, and to Mr. and Mrs. Gardiner, they glowed brighter than an angel’s halo.

  “Hello, my dears,” Mrs. Gardiner said warmly.

  “Oh, Aunt Gardiner!” Lizzy exclaimed and rushed over for a hug. “Wait until you see our surprise.”

  “A surprise?” Mr. Gardiner said as he was kissed on the cheek by Jane.

  “Yes, the very best.” Jane beamed and hugged her aunt.

  “And quite unexpected,” Mary said with an unusual amount of levity.

  Elizabeth dashed to the door and poked her head out. “We’re ready,” she laughed.

  Rushing out of the way, she stood to the side with her sisters. In walked a young lady, introduced as Miss Darcy, followed by three handsome gentlemen. Each stood behind a niece, and the ladies turned their heads up to grin at the men.

  Mrs. Gardiner watched in fascination. That the men loved her nieces, and it was returned, was easy for her to see. But who were they? How did her nieces know them, and when had this developed?

  “Aunt and Uncle,” Lizzy said with a saucy grin, “may we introduce our betrotheds?”

  “My congratulations!” Mrs. Gardiner exclaimed, but she needed to catch her breath and allow her mind to calm before speaking again. “You all have been very sly. In none of your
letters did any of you mention anything of this sort.”

  “That’s not true,” Lizzy laughed. “Surely Mama told you about Mr. Bingley and her hopes for Jane.”

  “I will count myself as Mrs. Bennet’s favourite son, then.” The blond man with a jovial smile, who stood behind Jane, bounded over to them.

  Mrs. Gardiner had not put any credit in her sister-in-law’s words. Countless times since Jane’s come out she had believed a husband was in the making.

  “Yes, I recall now.” Mrs. Gardiner smiled at the man. “I am pleased to meet you.”

  “And I you!” he said before resuming his position next to Jane.

  The tall man behind Elizabeth whispered in her ear, causing her to rapidly nod and hide a smile. “May I present Mr. Darcy of Pemberley in Derbyshire?”

  “Darcy of Pemberley!” Mrs. Gardiner could not contain her surprise and joy. She stood and met the gentleman halfway. He elegantly bowed to her. “I lived in Lambton about ten years ago and passed the chief of my childhood there. I knew your father by reputation.”

  “Indeed?” Mr. Darcy smiled. “What an honour to meet someone who knew my father.”

  “I was very sorry to hear of his passing a few years ago,” she said kindly.

  Mr. Darcy nodded, and his lips lifted slightly. “Thank you. I think he was the very best of men and hope one day I may fill his shoes.”

  “I take exception to that, Fitzwilliam,” Lizzy said as she came forward and placed a hand on his arm. “For you are the very best of men. You must already exceed your father’s talents.”

  Her betrothed blushed slightly. “Allow me to introduce my cousin on my mother’s side, Colonel Richard Fitzwilliam.”

  The gentleman behind Mary stepped forward. He was not as handsome as Bingley or Darcy but had watched their interaction with merriment in his eyes.

  “You seem to think my relation to you is the best way to recommend me,” he laughed and elbowed his cousin.