Two Days Before Christmas

by Leenie Brown

  Two Days Before Christmas

  A Pride and Prejudice Novella

  Leenie Brown

  Leenie B Books

  Halifax

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, without written permission from its publisher and author.

  This book is a work of fiction. All names, events, and places are a product of this author’s imagination. If any name, event and/or place did exist, it is purely by coincidence that it appears in this book.

  Cover design by Leenie B Books. Images sourced from NovelExpressions and DepositPhotos.

  Two Days Before Christmas © 2017 Leenie Brown. All Rights Reserved, except where otherwise noted.

  Contents

  Dear Reader,

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Before You Go

  Acknowledgements

  Leenie B Books

  About the Author

  Connect with Leenie Brown

  Dear Reader,

  On the following Monday, Mrs. Bennet had the pleasure of receiving her brother and his wife, who came as usual to spend the Christmas at Longbourn….The first part of Mrs. Gardiner’s business on her arrival was to distribute her presents and describe the newest fashions.[1]

  The story you hold in your hand takes place in the intervening time between when Mr. Darcy and the remaining Bingley party members leave Netherfield and the day mentioned above when the Gardiners travel to and arrive at Longbourn for Christmas.

  The reason I have chosen to highlight this quote is because while there might be a Christmas tree on the cover, there will not be one in this book, nor will there be carols or greenery or kissing boughs, for this book is not about the decorations of Christmas but the gifts — or more precisely, one gift, a gift of love given by a sister to a brother.

  * * *

  Jane Austen. Pride & Prejudice ↵

  Chapter 1

  Georgiana Darcy peered out her bedroom window to see who had come to call and was causing the flurry of activity in the halls. Her eyes grew wide as she saw her brother step down from his travelling coach and give some directives to a footman — likely about his trunk or possibly requesting tea. Those were the things he most often thought of first when arriving home from a trip. Her brows furrowed, and her lips pinched into a displeased pucker. Her brother was not supposed to be here in town. He was supposed to be in Hertfordshire with Mr. Bingley, learning how to be something other than unpleasant.

  Honestly! It was her heart that had been broken by that cad Wickham, not his! Hers was mending, but his? She shook her head. If only she could do something to prove to him that, though she had been hurt — and grievously so –, her heart was no longer affected. In fact, she had recently begun to think that it had never actually been touched at all. She had not been in love with Wickham. She was nearly convinced of that fact. She had been in love with the idea of being loved, adored, and cherished by a handsome man. That she had not been and feared she might never be was what still caused a pinching pain in her heart. Her companion, Mrs. Annesley, assured her it was a foolish notion to judge every gentleman by the actions of one, but it seemed prudent to Georgiana to be cautious, just in case. She had been too trusting. No one could tell her otherwise. However, just because she needed to learn a lesson in prudence, did not mean her brother needed to continue to suffer. He had done precisely as he should. Her pain was not his doing. The fact that he still tormented himself with guilt was what made it nearly impossible for her to lay her own, well-deserved, shame aside.

  She had spoken in confidence about such things to Mr. Bingley before he and her brother had departed for Netherfield, Mr. Bingley’s new estate. He had promised he would do his best to see her brother engaged in activities that would bring him distraction if not pleasure. She had been so hopeful that Mr. Bingley had been successful, for Fitzwilliam’s letters had been light in tone, sharing stories of the various people he had met and wishing he was free of the attentions of one particular person, Caroline Bingley. Added to that, yesterday, Mr. Bingley had called to inform her that her brother had done the most unusual thing by dancing with a Miss Elizabeth — the same Miss Elizabeth that had featured in more than one of Fitzwilliam’s missives.

  Why he was home when things had seemed so promising, she was uncertain. She grabbed a wrap for her shoulders and slipped her feet into her slippers.

  “Your brother has returned,” Mrs. Annesley said as Georgiana met her in the corridor.

  “I saw his carriage,” Georgiana replied. “It is very unexpected.”

  “It is,” Mrs. Annesley agreed. “Do you wish for me to attend you?”

  Georgiana shook her head.

  Mrs. Annesley glanced down the stairs. “You will tell me how he is, will you not?” There was a note of worry in her whispered question.

  As far as Georgiana was concerned, hiring Mrs. Annesley to be her companion was the best gift Fitzwilliam had ever given her. Mrs. Annesley’s heart was far softer than her angular features and austere manner of dress suggested. She was also aware of far more than the spectacles that perched on her nose while she read and stitched might indicate.

  “Of course, I will,” Georgiana assured her.

  A twinkle shone in the lady’s eye. “Then be quick.”

  Georgiana giggled as she descended the stairs. Mrs. Annesley was quiet and reserved as was proper for one in her position, but she was also curious and lively when she and Georgiana were alone. Reaching the bottom of the stairs, Georgiana stopped and waited patiently as her brother removed his outerwear and apologized to Mr. Wright, his butler, for the unexpected change in plans.

  Seeing her, he greeted her first with a smile and then open arms, which she ran into without a second’s pause.

  “I have missed you,” he murmured against her hair before releasing her.

  “You did not return on my account, did you?” Georgiana wrapped her arm around his.

  “May I not wish to see my sister?”

  His avoidance of her question was not a good sign. Such a tactic always meant he did not wish to discuss his reasons for something.

  “You may wish to see her, but you should not do so at the expense of breaking your word to a friend.” She felt his arm flinch. “Mr. Bingley called on me yesterday. He seemed eager to return to Hertfordshire.” Again, his arm flinched.

  “He may return anytime he wishes.”

  Her brows drew together. Her brother’s tone was so flat, so uncaring — so very unlike him. “I assume Miss Bingley and the Hursts accompanied you back to town?”

  “They did.”

  She lifted a brow and gave him an assessing look. “You know Mr. Bingley will never persuade Caroline away from town so close to the season. It was a struggle to get her to go with him at Michaelmas.”

  He shrugged? The only response she was going to receive to such a comment was a shrug?

  “He will be disappointed,” Georgiana said softly.

  “That cannot be helped.”

  Georgiana’s heart sank at Darcy’s words. Mr. Bingley had been so eager to return to Netherfield and a particular lady. In fact, he had mentioned taking his mother’s fede ring with him when he returned. Not returning would do more than disappoint Mr. Bingley; it would likely break his heart and the heart of the lady he had left behind.

  “Now, as delighted as I am to see you,” her brother continued, �
��I am desirous of a long soak in a hot tub of water.” He gave her a tight smile. “To wash away the chatter of Miss Bingley.”

  He had not remembered to ask her if she was well. That was also odd. For the last several months, he had asked her that question at least three times a day and always upon returning from a time away. She released his arm but only to allow her hand to slide down and grasp his. “Fitzwilliam?” She waited until he looked up at her instead of at their joined hands before continuing. “Are you well?”

  His eyes left hers and looked down the hall toward his room as he nodded. “I will be,” he said as he lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “I will be.”

  Georgiana pulled her lip between her teeth as she watched him walk down the hall to his room. His shoulders were not as square as they normally were, and he ran his hand through his hair which was something he only did when thoroughly overwhelmed by a situation. He was not well. Something was most certainly wrong.

  Georgiana gasped as a reason for her brother’s melancholy came to mind. Unwilling to entertain the troubling thought for hours before she spoke to her brother again, she hurried down the hall and knocked firmly on his door. Then she waited. There was some shuffling in the room, but none that sounded as if a person were approaching the door, so she knocked again. This time she rapt so loudly that she was positive at least one knuckle would bear a bruise from the action.

  However, her sore knuckles had produced the desired effect since her brother, minus his coat and cravat, opened his door.

  “She has not trapped you, has she?” Georgiana demanded.

  Her brother’s brows drew together in question. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Caroline Bingley. She has not finally succeeded in trapping you into marriage while her brother was gone, has she?” Georgiana’s heart raced with trepidation. Caroline Bingley was not the sort of lady she wished to have as a sister, nor did she think her brother would ever be happy married to such a person. Caroline was not horrid, but she was not gentle or lively or particularly witty. She was just not the sort of lady Georgiana knew her brother needed for a wife.

  Thankfully, shock suffused her brother’s face as he blurted an emphatic no.

  “You are not marrying her?” Georgiana asked again just to be certain of his answer.

  “No, Georgie, I am not marrying anyone.” The light in his eyes faded as he said it.

  In spite of her concern for the sadness in his tone and expression, Georgiana smiled at him. “One day you will,” she said hopefully.

  “Perhaps one day,” he replied without so much as a hint of conviction that it was true.

  Oh, he was in a deplorable state of mind, and Georgiana was quite certain she knew why.

  “Was there anything else?” he asked as he turned to close his door.

  Georgiana shook her head. “Not at the moment.”

  “Then, I shall see you at dinner.”

  Georgiana stared at his closed door. “Perhaps, nothing,” she muttered. “You will marry one day, and you will be happy,” she declared to the door, “even if I must see to it myself.” Having settled the matter with her brother’s closed door, she turned and went in search of Mrs. Annesley. Undoubtedly, her companion would have some advice as to how to help Fitzwilliam.

  For a full hour, between songs in the music room, Georgiana and Mrs. Annesley discussed Darcy’s mood and the likelihood that he was denying his heart or worse — had been rejected by the woman he loved.

  “Miss,” Wright said as he stepped into the room. “Mr. Bingley is here to see your brother, but your brother is not available. However, Mr. Bingley is in quite a state, and I would very much dislike sending him away without him having seen someone.”

  Georgiana stacked her music and rose from her seat. “Thank you, Mr. Wright. Your judgment is always so good.” She smiled at the long-time servant. “Mrs. Annesley and I shall receive him in the blue drawing room.” She waited until Mr. Wright had left the room before turning eagerly to Mrs. Annesley. “Mr. Bingley might be able to help us understand why Fitzwilliam is so dejected, do you not think?”

  Mrs. Annesley exited the music room with Georgiana. “You must remember, that Mr. Bingley was not at Netherfield and that he has already given you his report about your brother’s progress when in Hertfordshire. I would not be too hopeful, but I will not say that there is no chance that we might gather some useful information.”

  “A trace of something to help us is all I wish,” Georgiana whispered as they entered the drawing room.

  “Mr. Bingley,” Georgiana said in greeting. “I do apologize that you must once again be satisfied with seeing only me, but my brother has just returned from the country and is washing away the remnants of his travel.” She motioned for him to be seated.

  Bingley sat down heavily in a chair, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. “I know Darcy has returned since my sisters have also returned. What I wish to know is why he has returned.”

  Georgiana took a seat near him. “I would also like to know that,” she said as she smoothed her skirts and folded her hands in her lap.

  “Did he not say?” Bingley asked in surprise.

  Georgiana shook her head. “He seemed determined to avoid giving me any information at all.”

  “Huh,” Bingley muttered.

  “He was very unlike himself,” Georgiana added.

  “How so?”

  “He seemed distant, almost cold.”

  Bingley rubbed his chin. “My sister declared he was pleased to have arrived in town and that she had never seen him happier.”

  Georgiana allowed her face to show her disbelief of such a statement.

  “I had suspected there was some degree of exaggeration to her words,” Bingley admitted. “He is not happy?”

  Mrs. Annesley chuckled softly in her corner. “Pardon me,” she apologized as she saw them both look at her, “but from what I saw and Miss Georgiana has told me, Mr. Darcy is very far from happy.”

  “Indeed?”

  “Indeed,” Georgiana assured him. She smoothed her skirts again and shot a surreptitious glance at Mrs. Annesley. “I was pleased to hear you had called for I am hoping you might be able to help us understand why my brother is so morose.”

  Bingley settled back into his chair. “I am not certain I can help, but I shall do my best.”

  Georgiana smiled.

  “I shall call for tea,” Mrs. Annesley offered. “And some of those little almond cakes you like so much, Mr. Bingley.”

  Bingley chuckled. “Thank you, Mrs. Annesley. You know how to make a vexed gentleman feel better.”

  “She is excellent,” Georgiana whispered. “There is none better, of this I am certain.”

  “I would agree,” Bingley whispered in return. “Now,” he said, raising his voice, “what would you like to know?”

  Georgiana tipped her head and arched a brow. “Your sisters are glad to be back in town?”

  Bingley blinked. “Yes,” he replied as if uncertain why Georgiana was asking such a question.

  “Will you be returning to Netherfield?”

  Again, he blinked and shook his head. “I cannot say. As you know, I had hoped to return, but my sisters assure me there is no need.”

  “No need?” Mrs. Annesley repeated as she took her seat once again. “What of the lovely lady you left behind?”

  For the second time that day, Georgiana witnessed the light fade from a gentleman’s eyes and be replaced with sadness. Fitzwilliam’s distress, just like Mr. Bingley’s, was, as she suspected, most certainly related to his feelings for a lady.

  “My sisters assure me that she holds me in no particular regard.”

  Georgiana could hear how he tried to keep the pain of such a thing out of his voice. “Do you believe they are correct?” she asked gently.

  He shrugged. “I am not good at judging such things.”

  “Most times,” Mrs. Annesley added with a smile. “You are not a good judge of such things most times. I
t is the same with many men,” she explained, “until a man finds a heart that beats in the same rhythm as his own.”

  He shook his head. “I am uncertain.”

  “Of course, you are,” Mrs. Annesley agreed. “New experiences are always unsettling. I would not place my full trust and future happiness in the hands of another, Mr. Bingley. I would pursue my heart’s desires until I had heard from the lips of the lady in question that all hope was vain. We are not all transparent with our affections. We can be as uncertain as any gentleman.”

  Bingley’s brows furrowed. “But what if she smiles at every gentleman and not just me?”

  “Then, she has a tender heart,” Mrs. Annesley replied. “And it is likely that a tender-hearted lady fears being spurned more than others because she will feel it more grievously.”

  Georgiana knew there was truth in what her companion was saying. “I know there are those among my friends who would not feel the weight of a refusal as much as I have,” she said softly and then shrugged. “Or perhaps they do feel it as much, but, rather than pain and sorrow, it is displayed as anger and viciousness.”

  “Quite true,” Mrs. Annesley muttered.

  “You truly believe I should return to Netherfield?”

  “Yes!” Georgiana blurted. “That is,” she continued, “if you still wish to see Miss Bennet wear that ring as your wife.”

  Bingley let out a great sigh. “I have no greater desire.”

  “Then go,” Georgiana encouraged. “And invite my brother and me for Christmas.”

  Bingley’s brows furrowed. “I do not think that is a good idea.”

  “Why?” Georgiana asked as the tea tray arrived. “Your sister will gladly go with you if she can be hostess for my brother.”

  “It is not that,” he said as he took a small bite of an almond cake.

  “Then what is it?”

  Bingley swallowed his cake. “Your brother has told me of your ordeal in Ramsgate,” he began cautiously. “There is a militia encampment in Meryton.”