The ladies had festooned Longbourn with garlands of greenery and brightly colored ribbons. Lydia helped Kitty fashion five kissing boughs, which now hung throughout the house in conspicuous, yet conveniently secluded, locations. The youngest Bennet had asked Jane where she most wished to kiss her betrothed, then promptly hung one in that very spot. Jane bore the teasing with good humor, unashamed in her anticipation of that particular Christmas custom.
Elizabeth had grown more pensive as the year’s end approached. Each passing day brought her nearer to meeting her grandmother and uncovering the remainder of her story. A nameless dread weighed upon her—an irrational yet persistent fear that the great lady might dismiss her without a second thought. For years, Elizabeth had wondered whether her family had abandoned her. The idea that such fear could be justified disturbed both her waking hours and her dreams.
But she put on a brave face. Her courage always rose with any attempt to intimidate her. Darcy’s presence helped. His quiet support steadied her and filled her with hope, for even if Lady Montrose should reject her, she would still have a future with her dearest Fitzwilliam.
Amongst the guests at Longbourn that evening were several officers of the militia. They frequently attended gatherings at other houses with young ladies to admire. Since the elder the Bennet sisters were now spoken for, the officers did not call often. Still, Mrs. Bennet felt compelled to invite them, and so scarlet once more adorned the rooms of her house.
“I never asked whether Mr. Wickham left the area,” she said to Darcy as she observed the men mingling amongst the other guests.
“He is gone. My man confirmed it the following day. I am sorry—I ought to have told you.” He patted her hand in reassurance. “It will be too soon if I ever lay eyes on that man again.”
“He has done you much harm. Anyone can see that.” She disliked Mr. Wickham on principle because he had wounded her betrothed.
“His sins are far greater than I can describe here. Suffice it to say, he has hurt me, and those closest to me, more often than I can forgive. My good opinion once lost is lost forever, and he had the distinction of losing my esteem long ago.” Darcy grimaced and shook his head. “Let us not speak of him now. I wish to enjoy the season without spoiling my stomach.”
Elizabeth laughed. “Very well. Tell me what your sister is doing for Christmas. Did she ever reply to your letter?”
“I have been a lax suitor! I did not even tell you when she answered my teasing note.” Darcy turned to her with pleading eyes. “Forgive me, my love?”
“Always. But now youmusttell me what she said!”
He obliged. “Georgiana declared she would not wait for my return to town and threatened to take the post coach to Meryton herself if I did not tell her the news at once. Naturally, I replied I had met a lady—dark hair, handsome features, excellent walker… He paused, his eyes twinkling. She replied by asking whether I had stolen Miss Bingley from her betrothed.”
Elizabeth laughed again, delighted to learn that her future sister had a playful streak. “And is this banter still ongoing?”
“It is—and I am very grateful for it. She has not been herself since the summer.” The same dark look he sported whenever his thoughts included Mr. Wickham appeared, and she wondered, not for the first time, what the blackguard had done to wound Miss Darcy so deeply.
“Georgiana will spend Christmas with my aunt and uncle. They are in town. She writes forgiving my absence but insists I bring you to call at Matlock House when we arrive in town.”
“I shall be very pleased to meet Miss Darcy,” Elizabeth said with enthusiasm. “We are kindred spirits, I think.”
“How do you feel about gaining yet another sister?” Darcy asked. His gaze shifted to Mary, seated near a window, gazing out with a touch of longing, before turning to nod at Jane and Bingley. That couple had just slipped back into the room through a side door. Bingley’s rumpled cravat and a loose pin hanging behind Jane’s ear betrayed their activities.
Darcy leaned down and whispered in her ear. “I think I prefer Bingley’s ideas to cards.”
Her heart raced as she turned. Their faces were but inches apart. “Pray, excuse me… I must go assist Jane,” she murmured. “She will be quite embarrassed if anyone notices. Then, perhaps, we might go in search of…diversion.”
She cast him a saucy wink and slipped away, tugging Jane aside before she and Bingley reached the cluster of guests in the center of the room.
“You have a pin loose,” she said, tucking the offending object neatly back into place. “Now, in payment for my services, you must tell me where that kissing bough is.”
Jane flushed from her neckline to the tips of her ears. “Lydia hung it in the doorway at the back of the drawing room,” she whispered.
Ingenious. That particular doorway was partially obscured by a folding screen and led into a smaller room where the pianoforte stood. Thanking her sister with a squeeze to her hands, Elizabeth returned to Darcy’s side, took his hand, and began leading him along the edge of the room. They left the parlor through the same door Jane and Bingley had used moments before.
The hallway beyond felt pleasantly cool and was largely empty. A few guests stood conversing in lowered voices, punch glasses in hand. Darcy and Elizabeth passed them, nodding in greeting but not stopping to talk.
The adjoining parlor was less crowded, but they still kept to the perimeter, unwilling to be stopped. At last, they reached the screen—and slipped behind it together.
Smirking, she looked up into his eyes and whispered, “You are very tall. The screen will not hide you.” His ears flushed red, and the corners of her mouth twitched with satisfaction.
Slowly, he bent and captured her lips with his own. “Minx,” he murmured huskily as he drew back, though their lips were barely touching. She did not move as he reached up and plucked one white berry from the kissing bough. Glancing up, he grinned.
“There are still more berries. Tell me, is it permitted for a man to claim more than one kiss, and one berry, from a single bough?” The roguish glint in his eye made her insides flutter.
“If such a rule exists, I am unaware of it,” she replied, breathless
“Then I shall take this opportunity to kiss you again.” He did, gently at first, but with a fervency that made her heart race and her head spin. When he broke away, she could scarcely think, and he looked every bit undone.
