Christmas at Pemberley

“Then it’s with pleasure that I share something of the man I admire.”

“Shall they be well?” Elizabeth asked as their carriage reached the main road and turned toward Derbyshire.

From the rear-facing seat, Darcy had watched the emotional turns of his wife’s countenance for over a half hour. The desire to stay with the Josephs and the desire to return to Pemberley had warred within her. “Mr. Joseph has assured me that he’d not allow his wife to travel until Boxing Day. They’ll spend Christmas at the inn. The man is cognizant of the fact that it’ll take more than two days to reach Newcastle with a newborn babe; therefore, he must reasonably arrange his family’s passage.”

“What of Mr. Joseph’s mother?”

“His future lies with Mrs. Joseph and young William. Joseph won’t risk their lives to say his farewells. As a clergyman, the man knows that honoring one’s parents doesn’t override ‘cling to her only’ in the marriage vows. He obviously cannot leave Harrogate today.”

Elizabeth nodded her agreement. “It’s too soon for Mary.”

“And they cannot travel on Christmas,” he added.

“Of course, I’d forgotten the implications of the religious celebration.”

Darcy removed his gloves and placed them beside him. “Joseph and I had several conversations about the proper thing to do.”

Elizabeth smiled easily. “In other words, Matthew Joseph asked for your counsel, and you explained the man’s family duty,” she teased.

Darcy’s eyebrow rose. “Would you expect anything less of me?”

“My husband, I’ve never misjudged your consequence.”

“As opposed to my finer qualities,” he countered.

Elizabeth chuckled lightly. “It was part of my grand plan, Mr. Darcy. A man only wants what he cannot have.”

“Ah, now I see,” he said sagely. “Your flirtation with Mr. Wickham was only to pique my interest — as was your denial of your cousin’s proposal. Therefore, it only follows that your constant disdain was to prove that I didn’t understand what I most needed.”

Elizabeth’s eyes misted with tears. “I never meant to cause you pain, Fitzwilliam.”

Immediately, Darcy switched seats. Taking Elizabeth into his arms, he said, “And I never meant to criticize.You must realize I no longer care about the past. It was what it was. As long as we have found each other, nothing else matters.”

Elizabeth wiped away the tears. “I don’t know what came over me. I was enjoying our conversation, and then I thought of the utter pain displayed on your face when I refused you at Hunsford. I did you such a disservice.”

“Could you not instead imagine my countenance at your eventual acceptance?” he teased. With his thumbs, Darcy flicked the tears from her cheeks before kissing her nose’s tip.

Elizabeth swallowed a sob with a giggle. “It would be pleasanter.” She shrugged her shoulders in good- natured self-chastisement. “Of late, I’ve been a watering pot over the most insignificant things.”

“Perhaps the baby,” he said gravely.

“Perhaps.”

Darcy shifted her in his arms. “Perhaps if I share what I did for the Josephs, it’ll bring a smile to those luscious lips.” Unable to resist her, Darcy bent his head for a taste.

Elizabeth stroked his chin line. “Tell me,” she said in a rasp.

Darcy first had to bring his breathing under control before he said, “I secured the room and board until Boxing Day, paid Mrs. Washington for the ruined linens, and left a small gift for William for Christmas Day.”

“How small?”

He removed one of her gloves and kissed her knuckles. “Ten pounds.”

Elizabeth smiled broadly. “You’re the most generous man,” she exclaimed. “Thank you, Fitzwilliam.”

“I also paid the innkeeper for extra blankets for Mr. Simpson and Jasper.”

“And extras for us, as well,” she observed.

Darcy kissed the inside of her wrist. “Yes, I worried for your lack of proper rest. Sleeping in the carriage isn’t ideal, but I wished to see to your comfort as much as possible.”

“Shall you join us, Edward?” Georgiana had discovered him in Darcy’s study. “We’ll take advantage of the ice you’ve seen fit to design.”

“It was all Southland’s doing,” he insisted. He sat back in the chair and smiled at her. “Has someone claimed your hand, Cousin? If not, I’ll seek your company.”

A powerful desire to rush into his arms took Georgiana by surprise. “I can think of nothing that I’d enjoy more. We gather in the main foyer on the half hour.”

Edward shot a quick glance at the mantel clock. “Perfect. The roads are clearing, and I’ve sent word to the Earl of my return, as well as having my report ready for my superiors. However, I’ve one more letter to address.”

“Anyone I know?” she asked teasingly, all the while praying that he didn’t correspond with another woman.

“Not unless you’re familiar with the Prince Regent’s inner circle.”

Georgiana experienced disappointment’s twinge. He hadn’t denied writing to another — perhaps a romantic liaison upon his return to town. Within his entourage, the Prince kept company with many beautiful women. “I’ll see you in a few minutes.” With a quick curtsy, Georgiana quit the room.

Edward watched her go and wondered what he’d said that brought the frown to her forehead. “Maybe it’s something I didn’t say. A man’s always on tentative ground with a woman,” he said aloud.

Two things had brought him to Darcy’s study on this day. The first was his continued suspicion that Mr. Manneville wasn’t what he pretended to be. Edward had followed his superiors’ orders in escorting the man to England, but it made no sense that the British government would take an interest in this particular American. So, today he had written a newsy letter to Mercer Elphinstone’s stepmother and father. Admiral George Elphinstone, Viscount Keith, was a friend and distant relative of Edward’s father. He had announced his safe return to England and had mentioned Mr. Manneville. He just hoped that the Elphinstones were in residence in London rather than in Scotland. With luck, Lady Elphinstone would inform her stepdaughter of his letter and word would spread among those who attended the Prince — this simple letter could answer some nagging questions.

The other worrisome issue was his uncharacteristic response to Georgiana. Last evening, he’d dreamed of their waltz in this very study — waking totally befuddled by his reaction to her. “What would happen if I approached my cousin?” he wondered, not for the first time. “Would Georgiana accept me? Moreover, would Darcy allow it?” Edward tossed his letter onto the edge of the desk. “I’m an Earl’s son and have my own fortune,” he argued with an imaginary opponent.

“But you are twelve years her senior.”

“That’s not unusual in marriages among our class.”

“Georgiana doesn’t know her heart. She has had no worldly experience.”

“You know I’ll protect her with my life. Nothing will harm her again. You can trust Georgiana with me.”

Would Darcy entrust him with Georgiana’s future? His cousin would have no fear of her husband ever learning of her foolish attempt at an elopement with George Wickham at age fifteen. Edward already knew of how Darcy had unexpectedly joined Georgiana a day or two before the intended elopement and had foiled Wickham’s plans. She could enjoy her future rather than live in the past. Georgiana’s affectionate heart could grow under his