Sudden Awakenings (The Other Paths Collection)

Chapter 22

Elizabeth looked at the pile of letters for her on the breakfast table. She had received little communication since her arrival at Pemberley, only a brief note from her mother, and now– three!

Letters from her mother were always a trial, so she saved that one for last, and opened Charlotte’s letter first. It contained little other tittle-tattle besides a shocking piece of news: Mr. Bingley had quit Netherfield Park the morning after the wedding, along with his sisters, and gone to Town.

She communicated this piece of news to Mr. Darcy, sitting across from her at the table, and asked him, “Did you know Mr. Bingley planned to leave Hertfordshire?”

“He mentioned his intention to, before the wedding,” he replied nonchalantly.

“Mamma will surely be upset over this.”

The next letter, from Jane, proved even more surprising. “Jane has gone to London as well!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “My mother’s cousin, Mrs. Jennings, has invited her to stay with her at her residence on Berkeley Street. She is to remain there the whole winter and through the Season.”

Mr. Darcy’s eyebrow quirked, but Elizabeth could not discern the thoughts behind it. “How fortuitous for your sister,” he said .

“Yes,” she answered. “Though I cannot account for why she might choose to stay with Mrs. Jennings, instead of our Aunt and Uncle Gardiner.”

“Perhaps she felt the Mayfair district would be better suited for mixing with the upper classes,” he suggested.

“A fair postulation. My aunt and uncle do not keep company with many from the ton . And on Berkeley Street she might have more opportunity to call upon Mr. Bingley’s sisters. They reside on Grosvenor Street, do they not?”

He affirmed that they did, though he did not seem pleased by the notion. Elizabeth felt a touch of irritation. “You must still be thinking that Jane means to capture Mr. Bingley,” she ventured, “but I can assure you Jane isn’t at all like my mother; her heart is too good and genuine to marry a man solely for his fortune.”

Mr. Darcy managed a smile. “You know your sister better than I, so your judgment can be relied upon. I do wonder how you managed to escape your mother’s influence.”

“Would it surprise you to learn I spent two years living with my aunt and uncle in London?” she said.

His eyes shot up in response.

“Yes,” she went on. “From the age of sixteen, my aunt and uncle undertook my upbringing before I entered into society. My aunt was an excellent instructor on ladylike comportment, and she taught me how to manage a household as well.”

“So it is she who I must thank– or blame– for not being able to see my food at dinner,” he quipped.

“Mrs. Gardiner is an industrious woman, much like my uncle, and frugal. When they first married, my uncle had just begun his cabinetry business and they had little money to live on. She made do with what they had and creatively sought measures to reduce their expenditures as much as possible. They are well-off now, thanks to my uncle’s success, but she continues to manage her household efficiently with little extravagance. I employed some of her methods into the care of Longbourn when I returned home. I like to think my efforts might have spared us from entering financial debt, but I do not know that they did little more than countermand my mother’s excessive spending.”

“Perhaps it made a greater difference than you think,” he offered generously. “I shall be more appreciative of your efforts to manage our household funds in the future.” He smiled warmly, causing a ripple of emotions to course through her belly.

S

The third piece of communication, from Mrs. Bennet, expressed her wishes for the residents of Longbourn to join them at Pemberley for Christmas.

“I have no objection to their coming,” Darcy answered her, though inwardly he resented it. “Your family is always welcome here.”

If he had his choice, Mrs. Bennet and her kin would never darken his doorstep, but he could not refuse his wife the comfort of having her family near to her on such a holiday; not when he had been the means of removing her from them.

“She writes that, if it would not trouble us to have them for such a time, they mean to arrive on the twentieth and stay through Twelfth Night,” Elizabeth conveyed.

Nearly three weeks with my wife’s family! Lord, help me to endure it , he silently prayed, doing his best to disguise his inward groaning at the thought.

“Goodness!” Elizabeth continued, still reading further down the page. “She adds that Mr. Collins and Mary would be pleased to join the party as well, and she mentions something about their patroness attending them. Are we expecting your aunt? ”

“Perhaps I had better open Lady Catherine’s letter,” he said, borrowing Elizabeth’s letter opener rather than fetching his own. His intention had been to wait until after breakfast to read it in his study. He expected it to contain further insults towards his bride and a repetition of her admonitions that he break off his marriage by way of annulment– a foolhardy notion, if there ever was one. Instead, her letter contained a declaration that she, along with Anne, planned to join him at Pemberley for Christmas.

“It seems we shall have a full house this Christmas– my aunt and cousin are to join us as well,” he said.

It is too much, is it not?” She looked up from the page. “Shall I write and tell my mother and father not to come?”

“No. The more the merrier,” Darcy answered, feeling all the more pained. Large holiday gatherings were not his idea of a pleasant time.

He recalled the previous Christmas, in which he spent a quiet holiday with Georgiana and no one else. This Christmas would certainly be anything but quiet!

S

“My, but isn’t this the most magnificent house!” Mrs. Bennet exclaimed as the Bennet family were shown into Pemberley’s grand entrance hall. “Would you look at the painted ceiling? It’s like a cathedral! And this staircase is truly wondrous– fit for a duke or duchess.” She went on in this fashion, exclaiming in every room about the fine furnishings and decor.

Elizabeth heartily wished her mother would curb her tongue. She did not need any reminders of how great a triumph her mother thought it, that she had married into such wealth. Mr. Darcy seemed to be taking it all in stride. Soon, Lady Catherine and her daughter arrived, along with Mr. Collins and Mary. The Collinses joined in Mrs. Bennet’s effusion of everything around them, supplemented with the occasional remark on how perfectly appropriate it was for the nephew of Lady Catherine de Bourgh to live in such splendor.

By contrast, the great lady made no compliments to the house or the persons within it, merely greeted her nephew perfunctorily and added, “I did not know you would be entertaining other guests during our stay.”

“Had you asked, rather than declared, your intention to come, I might have informed you that you would be sharing the visit with Mrs. Darcy’s family,” Mr. Darcy told her. Elizabeth hid a smile at the way he smoothly managed his aunt. Lady Catherine merely huffed before retiring to her rooms to rest before dinner.

S

Dinner proved to be arduous. There seemed to be a competition happening between Mrs. Bennet and Lady Catherine as to who would dominate the conversation.

Mrs. Bennet, eager to showcase her eldest daughter, launched into a detailed account of Jane's triumphs in London. She described in vivid detail Jane's popularity, her elegant attire, and the admiration she garnered from the ton . Lady Catherine, her expression one of thinly veiled disdain, listened with a bored air, occasionally interjecting a curt remark.

“It must have been quite the ordeal, sending a daughter off to London,” Lady Catherine finally remarked, her voice dripping with condescension. “I cannot imagine the stress involved.”

“Oh, not at all, Your Ladyship,” Mrs. Bennet replied, her voice rising in indignation. “Jane is staying with my cousin, who is managing the whole affair. Are you acquainted with Mrs. Jennings, on Berkeley Street?”

Lady Catherine replied dryly that she was not.

Mrs. Bennet continued on, without any regard for Her Ladyship’s interest.“Jane has made friends with the most charming people, the Ferrars family. Somehow or other they are distantly related to Mrs. Jennings, I can’t quite recall how, but they are great friends of hers and her daughters. They positively adore Jane, I am told. Jane has friends in town of her own, too. You are surely acquainted with Mr. Bingley and the Hursts, given their close friendship with your nephew.”

“I do not know everyone that my nephew associates with, especially those with such strong connections to trade,” Lady Catherine muttered, her contempt showing strongly.

Even Mrs. Bennet was able to discern the insult. “Well, there is nothing so terrible about trade! Even Sir William Lucas, our mayor who has been received at St. James’ Palace, began as a printer. My brother has been successful in his cabinetry enterprises, and my own father lived out his days as a respectable solicitor.”

Elizabeth’s cheeks grew pink. She wished she could say something to intervene. Her mother’s blustering served only to lower Lady Catherine’s opinion of her and their family.

Lady Catherine swirled the wine in her glass before sipping it delicately. “If I had come from such low origins, I would do everything in my power to obscure it. Fortunately, I come from an illustrious line of earls in the Fitzwilliam lineage, and married into an old and respectable family. My sister, too, married well, for the Darcy family is as ancient and formidable as the most distinguished of aristocratic families.”

As the conversation progressed, the tension between the two women grew palpable. The underlying rivalry for social superiority became increasingly apparent .

Mr. Collins, in a vain attempt to cool the tension, advocated the merits of both connections to trade and the social mobility that noble ties offered, but his proclamations satisfied neither lady, nor did Mary’s spouting scripture, stating that “the first shall be last, and the last shall be first,” followed by a condemnation on those seeking a lofty earthly status.

Lady Catherine, in particular, took offense at this, and Mr. Collins spent the next five minutes placating her with his toadying remarks, assuring her that Mrs. Collins merely meant one must be content with whatever station the Lord had blessed upon them, and as He had already sought fit to bless her with an exalted status, she had nothing to fear.

This caused a ruffle from Mrs. Bennet, who took him to mean that her family must be grasping, and began scolding Mary for it. She calmed down only when Mr. Darcy reminded them all that Christmas was a time for Christian charity, and a time to celebrate with one’s family.

Then, with a sudden shift in tone, Lady Catherine turned to Elizabeth. “Speaking of Christian charity, Mrs. Darcy,” she began, her voice authoritative, “I understand tomorrow is St. Thomas’ Day. Have you made adequate preparations for the mumpers who come to beg?”

It was common practice for the poor to visit the local gentry on St. Thomas’ Day, where they could expect to receive some charitable handouts for their “mumping” or begging.

Elizabeth, caught off guard, hesitated. She had indeed made arrangements, but she knew Lady Catherine's standards were impossibly high.

“Yes, Your Ladyship. I have prepared baskets of food and warm clothing for every single person.”

But her answer was not satisfactory for Lady Catherine, who demanded assurance of the adequate quantity and the quality of what was to be given. Elizabeth outlined for her the types of baked goods, preserves, and salted meats she had prepared, as well as the shirts that she and Georgiana had sewn.

“Shirts!” Lady Catherine exclaimed in astonishment. “Whoever heard of giving shirts for mumping day? Mrs. Darcy, you ought to have prepared woolen mittens, scarves, and other knitted items.”A cold smile crept across Lady Catherine's face. “I do hope,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, “that your preparations are sufficient. I would hate to think the poor of this parish are neglected due to a lack of foresight.”

Mrs. Bennet, ever protective of her daughters, bristled. “Does Your Ladyship knit items for her mumping baskets?” she asked in a challenging tone of voice.

“I confess, I have never learnt. A pity, for if I had, I should have been a great proficient,” the lady replied, tilting her nose in the air slightly. “Fortunately, knitting is Anne’s favorite pastime; and her craftsmanship is most excellent.” She gestured to her daughter beside her, who had remained silent the entire meal. “Anne blesses all the local poor in Hunsford with her gifts, and every year, they are grateful for the warm garments she provides.”

“Like yourself, I do not knit, Your Ladyship, therefore it would have been less practical for me to supply,” Elizabeth explained. “Besides, Mrs. Reynolds informed me that the greater need was for everyday work shirts, and when I visited the families in our villages, I found it to be true. Most of the laborers’ garments were threadbare, and many confessed to only having one shirt. I am sure Your Ladyship can imagine the smell,” she said, lowering her voice slightly.

Lady Catherine wrinkled her nose in distaste.

Mr. Darcy attempted to lighten the mood. “I have seen the shirts Mrs. Darcy and Georgiana have been making and can attest to the quality. The families of Derbyshire will be well-blessed to receive such fine garments.”

Elizabeth flushed with pride .

The conversation again shifted as Mary remarked on the chicken dish they were enjoying, prompting Lady Catherine to launch a lecture on various sauces and methods of preparation, supplied with directives to Mary and Elizabeth as to which particular breeds of chicken produced the tastiest meat. Her advice was supplemented with earnest praise of Her Ladyship’s own chickens from Mr. Collins’ quarter.

At length, the dessert course came, and then they repaired to the drawing room for cards, making Elizabeth grateful to have survived the whole ordeal. She hoped the remaining dinners would not prove so taxing. A holiday visit with both matrons under her roof was already proving to be quite disagreeable!

S

“I am sorry for my mother’s behavior during dinner,” Elizabeth said to Darcy afterwards, when the rest of their guests had retired for the night. She followed him to his study, where they could speak freely.

“You are not your mother’s keeper,” he reassured her, busying himself by tidying the papers on his desk.

“Still, I feel responsible for my inability to curb her tendencies.”

“You mustn't feel sorry. I do not expect her nature to change through any efforts of your own. She remains the same person I have been acquainted with from the start.”

“I worry, lest she offend your aunt.”

“My aunt has, as ever, been prone to offense at the smallest thing. If she chooses to let her ire be raised, it shall not be the fault of your family.”

“I am amazed at your forbearance! I expected your patience already to be tried. ”

“My patience is of no consequence to you. However difficult it may be tried, rest assured, I will not lose my temper before our guests, nor suffer you any embarrassment from my quarter. You receive enough of that from your family,” he quipped. “Besides, I think my own family are equal to providing me with plenty of embarrassment in return, as you have witnessed.”

Elizabeth could not help but smile. “I will retire now,” she said, passing by him in the corridor. “Good night, Mr. Darcy.”

“Before you go, there is something I wish to give you.”

Elizabeth turned around again, a look of surprise on her face. Darcy opened his desk drawer and retrieved a box wrapped in brown paper and tied with a red ribbon.

“Your Christmas gift,” he said, handing it to her.

“But it is not yet Christmas,” she protested.

He shrugged. “That matters not. Besides, with the house this full, it may be the only moment we have alone.”

A hint of pink crept on her countenance. She untied the ribbon and removed the outer paper to reveal a polished wooden box with a hinged lid. Inside the box, resting on a cushion of velvet, lay a gold tiara studded with pearls and attached to a comb.

Elizabeth gasped. “It’s exquisite!”

“It belonged to my mother,” he said.

Hearing this, Elizabeth snapped the lid shut and handed it back to him. “No, I couldn’t take something so precious from you. I already possess your mother’s ring. This ought to belong to Georgiana.”

But Darcy shook his head. “Georgiana has her own share of jewels and family heirlooms. This piece is intended to be worn by the mistress of Pemberley. Which is you.” Without waiting for her permission, he reopened the box and removed the tiara. Elizabeth instinctively bent her knees in a small curtsy as Darcy placed the tiara onto the crown of her head.

“It suits you,” he said .

“I do not know what to say.”

“Perhaps ‘thank you,’would suffice.” Darcy smiled.

“Thank you!” Elizabeth beamed, catching a glimpse of her reflection in the small mirror hanging on one wall of the study. After admiring her appearance for a few moments, she gently returned the tiara to its box. “Wait here, please. I have something for you also. I had intended to give it to you on Christmas Eve, but I feel now might be a better time.”

She hurried to her room and soon returned with a lumpy parcel, hastily tied with a piece of twine. “I did not have time to wrap it better,” she said sheepishly as she handed it to him.

Inside was a white shirt, similar to the ones Elizabeth and Georgiana had been making for the poor. Darcy immediately noticed this one bore more intricate details. Instead of a simple, straight neckline, a beautifully pleated white ruffle had been added, and on the points of the collar, she had embroidered the Darcy crest along with his initials. The buttons on the neck and the sleeves were made from mother of pearl, and on the cuffs, she had again added his initials.

As Darcy examined the workmanship of her tiny stitches in wonder, she mumbled, “I know you must have dozens of shirts already, and if you do not like it, please, do not feel obligated to wear it. I will not be offend–”

“I love it,” he said softly, interrupting her. “Thank you. The amount of effort this must have taken you, and to undertake this in secret– I am impressed!”

He watched with delight as a blush spread across her cheeks.

“It was simple, really, to hide my project. With so many other shirts being worked on, I knew you would not notice this one if you happened to enter the room during one of our working days.”

“It was hidden in plain sight.”

“Precisely!” she laughed .

Stepping closer, Darcy took Elizabeth’s hands in his. “Thank you, Elizabeth. Truly, I am touched.” He felt her hands tremble. His gaze fell to her lips, full and pink. He felt himself being drawn inexplicably nearer. He bent his head towards hers, intending to kiss her, but she withdrew, removing her hands from his grasp.

“You are w-welcome…Mr. Darcy,” she stammered. “The hour grows late. I shall retire now. Good night!” She picked up the wooden box containing her tiara and made a hasty retreat from him.

Darcy watched as she continued down the corridor to her room. A mixture of admiration and confusion swelled in his breast.

S

Elizabeth’s heart pounded as she shut the door to her bedchamber and leaned against it. The memory of her name on his lips, and the way he had drawn near to her…she was almost certain he had meant to kiss her! His appreciation for her gift, coupled with the joy she had felt upon receiving the tiara from him, filled her heart with strange new sensations. Should I have let him kiss me?

She could scarcely fall asleep that night, thinking about their encounter, and when sleep finally claimed her, it filled her mind with images of Darcy’s lips pressed against hers.