But Darcy did not linger, for there was too much to be done and he was eager to get started. He strode into the sitting room and was now standing there replaying the memories of the evening. “Here is the decanter of brandy and still full!” cried Darcy, starting off again and going round to the fireplace. “There is the door by which the ghost of my father entered! There is the window where I saw the wandering Spirits! There is the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present sat!” He bent down and retrieved a lone holly leaf. “It is all true; it all happened.”
He was checked in his transports by the sound of church bells ringing out the lustiest peals he had ever heard—
The door opened and in walked his valet. “Good morning, sir, and a Merry Christmas to you.”
“Thank you, Marks, and also to you.”
“Shall I tell Cook to prepare breakfast?”
“No. There is a change of plans. I require my riding gear. Send a message to the stables to ready my horse. I wish to leave within the hour.”
“You wish to go for a morning’s ride?” asked Marks.
“No, I will be traveling to Hertfordshire. Going by horseback will be quicker. You will follow in the carriage on the morrow. Just pack a satchel for overnight.”
Darcy delivered his orders and set about making himself presentable. Shaving was not an easy task, for his hand continued to shake very much and shaving required attention. He dressed himself all in his best.
A boy came in with his cleaned boots.
“Hallo there!”
“Hallo, sir!” returned the boy.
“Do you know Matlock House, in the next street but one, at the corner?” Darcy inquired.
“I should hope I do,” replied the lad.
“I will give you a shilling to deliver a letter there. No, I will give you half-a-crown!”
“A half-a-crown, sir, it is far too much!” protested his valet.
“Nonsense, it is Christmas after all.”
The hand in which he wrote the letter was not a steady one, but write it he did. After giving the lad his letter and coin, he went downstairs to open the street door and watched the lad run down the street. As he stood there, the door knocker caught his attention.
“I shall love it as long as I live!” cried Darcy, patting it with his hand. “I scarcely ever looked at it before. What expression it has in its face! It is a wonderful knocker!”
A groom arrived with his horse from the stable. Straddling his horse, he started the journey into Hertfordshire.
Meanwhile, Georgiana had made her way down into the breakfast parlor. She was alone when the butler handed her a note on a silver platter. The Earl entered the breakfast as Georgiana finished her letter, “Good morning, sir! A Merry Christmas to you!”
“And to you, my dear!” replied the Earl. “Who sends you greetings on Christmas morning if I may ask?”
“It is a letter from Fitzwilliam, sir. He says that he will be unable to join us for Christmas dinner.”
“I am sorry to hear that. Are you greatly disappointed?”
“Oh no, sir. For he says he is going to fulfill my greatest wish for Christmas.”
“And that wish is?” enquired the Earl.
“A new sister, sir. A new sister,” Georgiana returned happily, before taking a sip of hot chocolate, leaving the Earl quite speechless.
Darcy was by this time on the outskirts of London, heading for Netherfield. If the visions of Christmas Present were true, he would find Elizabeth there.
He did not mind the cold; in truth he barely felt it. His mind was so busy with the images of the previous night that he barely noticed the world around him. The sound of the horse’s hooves hitting the cold ground penetrated his thoughts occasionally. He would smile, for each step brought him closer to Elizabeth.
Finally, in the afternoon, he arrived at Netherfield. A groom rushed out to take the horse. Darcy patted the horse on the neck, thanking him for making the journey as quickly as he had. “Give him a good rub down, some extra oats, and an apple if you can find one.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the groom. Darcy tossed him a coin.
“And a Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He looked up to the window and spied Elizabeth gazing out the window. He had never dreamed that any ride could give him so much happiness. He turned to go up the steps of Bingley’s house but stopped. Instead, he turned to the window and, realizing that Elizabeth had spotted him, he pointed to her, then to himself, and out to the winter-cloaked garden, silently asking her to meet him there.
He saw Elizabeth nod from the window. Eagerly, he strode into the garden.
Elizabeth was filled with gladness when she saw Darcy arrive. When he silently asked to be met in the garden, she could only nod, for the rest of her seemed frozen in place. Only when she saw him stride away did she regain movement. She began to move to the door.
“Where do you think you are going?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“I am going for a walk in the gardens. The room is overheated and a walk would do me some good.”
“It would do you some good to stay and talk with Mr. Topper. He has almost three thousand a year! And he has shown an interest in you!” cried Mrs. Bennet.
Curious, Bingley looked out the window, and recognizing the horse his groom was leading away, said, “I do believe some fresh air would do you a world of good, Elizabeth.” He quickly made his way to the door and opened it for her.
“I hope so, Charles, I hope so,” replied Elizabeth, as she left the room. Outside the room she raced down the stairs and ran down the hall to the doorway, only skidding to a halt when she saw a footman with her cloak, gloves, and bonnet. Hastily putting on these outer garments, she hurried into the garden where Darcy was waiting and pacing.
“Miss Bennet.” They were the only words he could get out of his mouth. Elizabeth was also stricken with silence. Darcy offered his arm, Elizabeth took it, and they began to walk in silence.
When they came upon a sheltered bench, they stopped and sat down. Elizabeth looked down at her clasped hands, until Darcy covered her hands with his. Then she looked up into his eyes, his bright, shining eyes that held a touch of shyness, determination, and another emotion that she was afraid to name.
“Miss Bennet, last April you said that I could not have made you the offer of my hand in any possible way that would have tempted you to accept it. Even if your answer remains the same as it was then, please allow me to speak a second time upon this subject.”
“As you wish.”
“Miss Bennet, few people get to see into the future and what joys or calamities may be waiting there. Last night I was fortunate to get a glimpse of my future. I do not know if it was a dream or a vision, I only know that the future that lay before me was bleak and stark and lonely because you were not in it.”
Elizabeth knew from the look in his eyes that he was telling the truth.
“So I am asking you to share the future with me, to change that wretched existence I saw into a one of great joy and happiness. I love you. I shall always love you. I am willing to wait with a hope that someday you will return my regard. Please say that I may have some hope.”
“You may, for it would not be a very long wait,” said Elizabeth. “Not long at all.”
“Dearest, loveliest Elizabeth, would you do me the very great honor of accepting my offer of marriage?”
Elizabeth, feeling all the common awkwardness and anxiety of the situation, now forced herself to speak. “I wish you to understand that my sentiments have undergone so material a change since that time, that your present assurances fill me with gratitude and pleasure and the only answer I can give is… yes.”
The happiness that this reply produced was such as he had never felt before, and he expressed himself on the occasion as sensibly and as warmly as a man violently in love can be supposed to do. “Thank you,” he raised
