Pemberley Celebrations - the First Year

by Kara Louise

  As she stood holding and examining a small bauble, arms suddenly came about her and a husky voice whispered in her ear, “Good afternoon, my love.”

  Upon hearing her husband’s rich voice, Elizabeth closed her eyes and leaned against him as a contented smile crossed her lips. She grasped his arms and held them securely against her. Her heart beat ecstatically now that he was home again! With his lips still near her ear, he buried his face into her deep auburn hair and bestowed a lingering kiss upon her neck causing a wave of euphoria to sweep through her. They remained in this manner for a few moments longer, both feeling a compelling need to make up for their few days of separation.

  Elizabeth then turned and joyously reached out her arms to encircle her husband's neck. She gazed up at him and softly said, “I am so glad you are home, my love. I missed you so much!” Lifting herself up on her toes and pulling him down toward her, she met his lips in an ardent kiss.

  When they parted, Darcy took in a deep breath. He pulled a loose strand of hair that had fallen across Elizabeth’s face and he twirled it around his finger. “And I missed you, my dear. How I missed you,” he added with a groan. “Your smile, your fine green eyes, your kisses, your…”

  Darcy’s gaze was suddenly drawn away when he noticed the box on the floor. “May I inquire what that is you have there?” he asked with a nod of his head in its direction.

  She turned toward the box and took his hand in hers, stroking it gently. She was unsure what his reaction might be seeing it again after all these years. “This, my dearest, is a box of ornaments you and your mother once made. Mrs. Reynolds brought it out for me.” She paused and watched his face.

  “I see.” He slowly pulled his hand away and stooped down to look into it more closely. Elizabeth waited, quickly taking and holding a breath as he picked up one of the ornaments. She saw his jaw tighten before he put the ornament back in the box. When he turned to look at her, she readily noticed how he quickly fisted and then relaxed his hands.

  “What are you planning to do with these?” His voice was steady, with very little emotion, and he exhibited a more formal demeanour, as he often did when struggling with control.

  “I…” Elizabeth swallowed and forced a smile. She reached again for his hand, grasping it firmly. “Mrs Reynolds told me yesterday about the large Christmas tree in the ballroom… it is in there now! You should go see it!” Then more softly she said, “And she told me of the smaller tree that used to be put up in here.”

  “Did she?”

  “I inquired of Mrs. Reynolds whether we could have a small tree in the sitting room, where we spend most of our time… so we could enjoy it. She told me about these handmade ornaments, and…”

  “Elizabeth.” Her name came out in but a whisper. She could see the tension in his face and wondered if this had been too much for him. But instead he turned to her and smiled. “It has been years… I had almost forgotten they even existed.” He reached down again and picked up a mass of woven twigs that looked somewhat like a star. “I probably made this when I was six years old.”

  Elizabeth put her arms around him and looked up into his face. “Would you approve of a smaller tree in the sitting room?”

  Darcy took in an audible breath and let it out slowly, rubbing his chin briskly. “Christmas has been difficult since my mother died. She died on Christmas Day.” His voice broke, and he closed his eyes but he continued, drawing her into his arms. “For many years after that, we barely celebrated Christmas at all, other than attending church services on Christmas morning and giving the requisite gifts to one another. There was no decorating, no singing carols, no festive meals or gatherings with friends. Finally the staff began putting up decorations themselves and brought a little more festivity into the holiday, I would imagine, for Georgiana's sake.”

  “I am so sorry, Fitzwilliam. I did not realize Christmas was a difficult time for you.”

  “Not so much, anymore,” he said as he reached up and cupped Elizabeth’s face with both hands; his eyes dark and searching. “In truth, I actually looked forward to Christmas this year because of you.” He rewarded her with a reassuring smile. “I think it is a fine idea.”

  Elizabeth grew pensive, and she drew her fingers down Darcy’s face. “Mrs. Reynolds told me that in recent years you would always leave around the first of December so they could put up the decorations while you were gone. Is that why you left again this year?”

  Darcy wrapped his arms about her, pulling her close, and Elizabeth responded by burying her head against her husband’s chest. “Earlier this year I made these plans for that very reason. Time has eased the pain of the holiday, but last year, especially, it held a more intense sense of anguish for me. I struggled with a mixture of missing you and wanting to see you again, yet at the same time trying to talk myself out of the feelings I had for you. It was, needless to say, one of my worst Christmases in a long time!”

  Elizabeth tilted her head up and looked longingly into his eyes. “I do hope Christmas this year will prove to be much more pleasant!”

  A broad smile appeared, revealing the single dimple in his right cheek that only exhibited itself on rare occasions. “Exceedingly more pleasant. I am certain of that, my love.” He kissed the top of her head.

  “And what of Georgiana? Has she been similarly affected at Christmas?”

  “No, she was very young when Mother died. She normally stays in London until the middle of December. She has been able to experience more of the Christmas festivities there, than here at Pemberley.”

  “Fitzwilliam, we need to change that. Do you think we can?” Elizabeth’s face shone with anticipation.

  He looked down at his radiant wife and smiled. “I am willing to do anything you wish, my dear. We shall do whatever makes you happy.” He leaned down and kissed her again, but it was quickly interrupted by the appearance of the men bringing in the newly cut tree.

  Elizabeth and Darcy watched as the men set up the tree. Once it was up, the couple began putting on the small ornaments. Occasionally Elizabeth saw him inspecting an ornament and he would make a comment about the occasion or age he had been when it was made. It was evident which ones his mother had made, and Elizabeth was in awe at her ingenuity.

  As they were just about finished putting the ornaments on the tree, Darcy came over and placed his hands on Elizabeth’s shoulders. “I cannot help but think how much I have missed all these years by avoiding this part of the Christmas holiday. It is truly enjoyable.” He drew her into his arms. “However, I must confess that part of its attraction to me is the fact that I am doing it with my beloved wife.”

  “Fitzwilliam, you are so very sweet!” Elizabeth looked up at him and tilted her head. “Mrs. Reynolds said your father did not often go into the ballroom after the large Christmas tree and decorations were put up. Was he ever able to celebrate Christmas after your mother died?”

  “It is hard to say. We would go in there on Christmas morning to open presents, but he rarely went in there at other times during the season.” Darcy suddenly tensed and ran his fingers through his hair.

  “What is it?”

  He walked over to the fireplace, planting his elbow on the mantel, and wrapped his thumb and finger around his chin. “A few years before my father died, I came home one afternoon. Apparently my father did not hear me come in. I heard a noise in the ballroom and looked inside.” Darcy had a faraway look in his eyes. “I saw my father in there, sitting in front of the tree, crying. He did not know I was there, and I never spoke to him about it. He had always been so strong after my mother died. That was the first time I had ever seen him cry. I had always been aware as a young boy of the love my parents had for each other. But it was later, as an adult, that I realized the depth of that love, even so many years after her death.”

  Darcy looked at Elizabeth with an expression that spoke volumes of the depth of his love. “I resolved then, that I could only marry someone for whom I had that same kind of love.”

>   He walked back over to Elizabeth, drawing her firmly to him again. With his arms locked around her, his voice quavered, “And now, Elizabeth, I appreciate even more the love he had for my mother, having loved you and received your love in return.” He took in a long, deep breath. “You have made me the happiest and most contented of men. There are times I feel my heart will burst with all the love I feel for you.”

  When Darcy suddenly swept Elizabeth up in his arms with a look of longing on his face, she was more than willing to put aside decorating until later. He carried her up the grand staircase silently, expectantly, and with nary a thought of a passing servant or two who witnessed the display with pursed lips in a vain attempt to suppress a smile.

  *~*~*

  Georgiana was summoned the very next day, and as soon as she could be ready, she set out for Pemberley. Meanwhile, the staff gathered boughs of fragrant evergreens and sprigs of holly and berries. Bolts of wide red ribbon were purchased, and Elizabeth helped Mrs. Reynolds make large red bows to hang from the garlands.

  When Georgiana arrived home several days later, she expected to see the ballroom decorated, but was not prepared for the sight that greeted her. The entryway to Pemberley was decorated with an abundance of greenery and red bows, and she eagerly walked into each room finding a new delight awaiting her. She was most pleased when she entered the sitting room and saw the smaller tree decorated with very simple handmade ornaments.

  Elizabeth told Georgiana about the box of ornaments, and the young girl listened, enthralled. “These have been in the house all these years and have never been put up? I cannot believe that I have never seen them!”

  “They have been locked away in a closet.”

  Suddenly Georgiana's face lit up. “Elizabeth, I should like very much to continue the tradition my mother began. What do you think of each of us making an ornament for the tree?”

  Elizabeth looked at her with great delight. She took both her sister’s hands in hers. “Georgiana, that is a wonderful idea, but do you think we can convince your brother to join us?”

  She giggled. “I think it would be fun if he did! Let us go see what he says!”

  Elizabeth gave Georgiana’s hand a restraining squeeze. “I think perhaps the way to do this is to make him think it is his idea.” Her words were followed by a conspiratorial smile.

  When Georgiana and Elizabeth entered his study, he looked up and closed the book he was reading, willing to give them his undivided attention. “And what brings my two favourite ladies into my study this afternoon?”

  They looked at each other and smiled. “I have been telling Georgiana about the ornaments you and your mother made.”

  “Yes!” exclaimed Georgiana. “How I wish I had been old enough to do that! How special that must have been for the two of you!”

  Darcy’s brows knit together. “It was something she enjoyed, I am certain. I cannot say how much I enjoyed it!” He eyed the two ladies suspiciously.

  Elizabeth and Georgiana glanced at each other and then back to him. Elizabeth spoke reflectively, “It must have been such a lovely tradition. Every year you made an ornament to hang from the tree…”

  “All right! I am fairly certain that you two have come up with some ridiculous notion, and I can assure you that I do not want to hear it!” He looked down at his closed book and then glanced back up. “Especially when you both are wearing those silly grins.”

  “Fitzwilliam.” Georgiana looked at him with pleading eyes. “Would it not be wonderful to start this tradition again for Christmas?”

  He tilted his head and leaned back into his chair, folding his arms firmly in front of him.

  She continued. “Every year we can make an ornament for the small tree in the sitting room, just as you and Mother used to do.”

  “Ha ha!” laughed Darcy. “I always had her assistance in the matter. I do not have that talent for creativity that Mother had.”

  Elizabeth walked behind her husband and put her hands on his shoulders, giving them an encouraging squeeze. “I am certain you could come up with something, my dear. Let us each work on an ornament this coming week, and we shall hang them on the tree one week from tonight.”

  “Yes!” squealed Georgiana.

  “Hmmph!” grunted Darcy. “You may get together if you like and hang your ornaments, but I will not guarantee anything!”

  “Do not be such a curmudgeon, Fitzwilliam. At least try!” With a final beseeching look, Georgiana turned and left the room.

  Darcy turned his head to look at his wife with an imploring expression etched across his face. “You really do not expect me to make some trifling ornament, do you?”

  “Fitzwilliam, I know you are a man of great proficiency in all things. You will think of something. It would make Georgiana very happy.”

  He lifted a single brow toward his wife. “And what about you? Will it make you happy?”

  Her fingers, which remained resting on his shoulders, began kneading and massaging the muscles in his shoulders and neck. She heard him take in a deep breath and felt him relax. She leaned down and whispered, “It will certainly give me pause to believe that I am married to the most wonderful man in the world.”

  “Hmmm,” he said with mock disappointment. “You mean to tell me that you do not already believe that?” He grasped one of her hands and stroked her fingers. “And if I do not make an ornament?”

  Elizabeth only smiled. “I am confident you will think of something.”

  “This is certainly a weighty expectation.”

  She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead.

  “Is that kiss meant as an enticement?”

  Elizabeth looked up at the ceiling and pointed. “I understand it is the tradition to kiss a person when they are underneath the mistletoe.”

  Darcy looked up and laughed. “Who put that up there!” When he looked at the mischief in Elizabeth's eyes, he added, “I think I have a fairly good idea.”

  *~*~*

  Elizabeth and Georgiana secretly set about gathering materials for their tree ornaments. Elizabeth found many different colours of thin ribbon and wove them tightly together. She then cut the woven ribbon into the shape of a bell, stitching the edges to hold it together. She attached a small ribbon bow at the top and a gold threaded tassel, which hung from the bottom.

  Georgiana collected some grapevine branches from the arbours around the estate and soaked them until they were pliable. She then wove them in and out around each other, forming them into a small circle and then letting them dry. Finally, she attached small berries and bows to the grapevine, making a miniature wreath.

  Darcy tried several times to discover what his wife and sister were each making. He had no idea what he was going to do himself, but he did not want to let them down.

  One afternoon Darcy came upon Mrs. Reynolds in an area off the kitchen working with strips of paper.

  “What are you doing there, Mrs. Reynolds?”

  “I am making paper stars. They are actually called German folded stars.” She lifted up one of the finished ones, and Darcy looked at the three dimensional star, made entirely of paper.

  “You made that?”

  “Yes, sir. I make them every year to put in the food boxes we give out to the needy.”

  He looked at her with a wide smile. “Could you teach me how to make one?”

  “You, sir?” Mrs. Reynolds seemed surprised.

  He looked at her and nodded. “Yes. It cannot be that difficult, can it?”

  “Oh, certainly not, Mr. Darcy. Not at all.”

  She taught him how to fold the four strips of papers across one another, and finally, after several attempts, he had made one on his own.

  “Good!” he said, as he held it up to examine it. “Thank you very much. Would you mind giving me some extra strips of paper so I can make a few more?”

  “Right away, sir.” After cutting a few more strips, she handed them to him. He promptly took them into his study, and very diligently r
ecalled each step, making two more stars.

  “There!” he said with satisfaction. “I hope these will suffice!”

  *~*~*

  The following week, Darcy, his wife, and his sister met in the sitting room, each with their ornament concealed in paper or a box.

  “Who shall go first?” asked Elizabeth.

  “May I?” asked Georgiana. She pulled out her miniature wreath from its paper, receiving much praise and adoration from her brother and his wife.

  “That is so beautiful, Georgiana. What a clever idea!” Elizabeth was very profuse in her admiration.

  “It is very sweet,” added Darcy. “Now, Elizabeth, it is your turn.”

  “All right.” She smiled as she unwrapped her ribbon bell ornament.

  “Elizabeth, how did you do that?” asked Georgiana. “Is that ribbon woven together?”

  “Yes it is,” smiled Elizabeth.

  Darcy picked it up and looked at it closely. He suddenly felt rather hesitant about revealing his ornament. When the two of them looked to him, he awkwardly shrugged and pulled it slowly out of its box.

  “It is just a paper star,” he said.

  “Did you truly make this?” asked Elizabeth.

  “I certainly did! You cannot suppose that I cheated and had someone else make it, can you?”

  “I love it!” exclaimed Georgiana. “Could you teach me how to make one?”

  “Wait a moment,” interjected Elizabeth. “He must teach us both! We should fill the tree with these stars. Fitzwilliam, what do we need?”

  “We need four long strips of white paper for each star.” He turned briskly toward the door. “I shall return directly.”

  Darcy returned to the kitchen area where he first discovered Mrs. Reynolds making the stars. He looked around and found some strips of white paper already cut. He picked them up and brought them back to the waiting ladies.