“Thank you, again, Miss Darcy, for your kindness in assisting us,” Mary said, then shot a hard glance at her younger sisters, Kitty and Lydia, who were sitting at a small, round table, happily attempting to tie the perfect bows to adorn their bonnets and paying no attention to the rest of them.
Georgiana replied something about it being a pleasure, then looked at the younger girls, as well. She then exchanged a smile with Elizabeth, for the proceedings were going exactly as Elizabeth had predicted.
Could that have only been a handful of days ago?
So much had happened since then. The entire world had changed—very much for the better—or at least it felt that way to Darcy.
The ball had gone splendidly, and everyone in attendance had contributed funds to the children’s welfare. Aunt Adelaide had even talked a couple of young debutantes into volunteering some time at the orphanage.
At supper during the evening of the ball, Elizabeth had suggested Darcy and Bingley delay their trip to Longbourn for a day, so the ladies could prepare their trunks and travel with them. Then Elizabeth cautioned she should speak to her father before Darcy asked Mr. Bennet for permission to marry his daughter. It was highly irregular, but Elizabeth insisted upon it, stating with the deepest blush he had ever seen grace her features that she feared her father might not be as receptive to his entreaty if Darcy went to him first. The statement made Darcy quite uncomfortable, and he could not help but begin to agonize over the prospect.
The morning after the ball, Elizabeth and Jane had received a letter from their father explaining that Miss King was safe. Her uncle had already recognized Wickham’s unworthiness and put an end to the courtship.
Additionally, Wickham had heard about Mr. Bennet’s efforts to make an accounting of his debts with the shopkeepers in Meryton, and the scoundrel had left the area, abandoning his post with the militia. With his cousin Colonel Fitzwilliam’s assistance in hurrying things along, the authorities were now looking for him. Once found, Wickham would be charged with desertion, at the very least.
Since Darcy had no reason to keep Georgiana away from Meryton any longer, they accepted Bingley’s offer of spending Christmastide at Netherfield, after all.
Darcy was amazed—and relieved—when his friend informed him that his sisters and brother-in-law would not be joining them. Apparently, since Caroline and Louisa had been so verbose in expressing their disapproval of his engagement to Jane Bennet, he only informed them that he would not be present at the Hursts’ estate this holiday season.
Upon their arrival at Longbourn yesterday, as Elizabeth predicted, after she spoke to her father first, Mr. Bennet had given his blessing to Darcy and Elizabeth’s engagement. The gentleman had also, though much more cheerfully, accepted Bingley’s request for Jane’s hand.
Distracting Darcy from his ruminations, Mrs. Bennet bustled into the room. “Good morning, Miss Darcy, Mr. Darcy, Mr. Bingley! It is such a fine day, is it not?”
Darcy glanced out the window at the overcast sky. It had rained all night, and with so much mud on the roads, they had barely made it there from Netherfield this morning. Obviously, Mrs. Bennet did not refer to the weather, but to the fact that her two eldest daughters were now engaged to be married, and Darcy had to agree it was the finest day of his life thus far.
Elizabeth was to become his wife!
Upon their arrival yesterday, Mrs. Bennet’s reception of Bingley had been nothing short of celebratory, but her greeting towards Darcy had been quite cold. After Mr. Bennet met with him, followed by his meeting with Bingley, the patriarch made an announcement to the family of not one, but two engagements… in the span of mere seconds, Mrs. Bennet’s opinion of Darcy had altered dramatically.
Darcy had almost laughed at the absurdity—until he noticed Elizabeth’s unease. The remainder of the evening had been spent assuring her he was quite satisfied.
Again, Darcy was pulled from his memories by Mrs. Bennet. Catching Darcy’s then Bingley’s eye, their future mother-in-law now said, “I hope you all will join us for supper. Cook has returned from market, and I am told she has procured the makings of Mr. Darcy’s favourite meal for this evening.”
Darcy bowed his head. “Thank you, Mrs. Bennet. We shall.” He would endure anything to spend a few more hours with Elizabeth.
Georgiana smiled and nodded.
“And for tomorrow’s supper, we shall have Mr. Bingley’s favourite.” Mrs. Bennet smiled broadly.
Darcy hoped it would be dry on the morrow so that perhaps they could take a stroll through the garden off to one side of the house, and he could spend a little time with Elizabeth in quiet conversation.
Mrs. Bennet donned leather gloves and got to work on a side table. Her back was to the remainder of the room, her body positioned in such a way that what she was doing there was not visible.
At Elizabeth’s, Jane’s, and Mary’s surprised expressions, Darcy quirked an eyebrow at his future wife.
Elizabeth whispered to him, “It is just… Mama has never helped us before—or at least, not since we were small children.”
A few minutes later, Mrs. Bennet went scurrying out of the room.
The ladies exchanged curious glances as Mrs. Bennet’s voice sounded out from the corridor towards the front of the house—the words too muffled for Darcy to make out—followed by the clatter of furniture being moved.
Just as Jane and Bingley had finished their wreath, the commotion in the corridor quieted.
Bingley asked, “Darcy, would you help me hang this from the front door?”
Darcy looked down at their own wreath. It was a suitable time for a respite. He nodded to Bingley.
Elizabeth and Jane removed their gloves and preceded them into the hallway. Darcy saw a workman bringing something into Mr. Bennet’s study.
“Mr. Hill was carrying my father’s library chair which turns into a ladder,” Elizabeth said softly. “He must have hung up whatever decoration it my mother had been working on.”
When the little group arrived in the foyer, Elizabeth opened the front door, and the gentlemen attached the wreath to hooks already fastened there.
As they returned to the entrance hall, Elizabeth looked upwards. Her lips spread into a dazzling smile.
Darcy’s eyes followed her gaze. “Ah…” he said. The mystery of what Mrs. Bennet had been constructing was now at an end. He chuckled. “I assume this gives Bingley and I permission from your parents?”
“From my mother, at the very least. And I must say, I concur.”
Jane and Bingley both looked up, then, surprising Darcy, a blushing Jane Bennet took a step forward, standing directly under the large ball of mistletoe suspended from the center of the chandelier in the entry vestibule, her attention fastened to Bingley’s face.
Elizabeth cleared her throat. “Fitzwilliam, perhaps we should step outside and… ah… better examine how the wreath looks with the door closed?”
Darcy waved Elizabeth through, then closed the door behind them. He took two more steps before realizing Elizabeth was no longer beside him. Turning to face her, she caught his gaze with twinkling eyes before she looked up. Above her head hung an even larger ball of mistletoe.
Stepping closer, Darcy whispered, “Your mother thought of everything.”
Elizabeth nodded. “Do not be surprised if, by suppertime, there is at least one sprig of mistletoe in every room of the house.”
He chuckled. “She wishes to make certain Bingley and I cannot change our minds.” At her confused look, he continued. “If I kiss you in front of others, you would be compromised, would you not?”