Stretching luxuriously, Elizabeth rolled over and sat up in bed. She pulled back the covers and shivered slightly as the chill air enveloped her. The fire had burned down to coals, and she hastened to stir the embers into flame. Her long braid fell over her shoulder, and she pushed it aside lest it reach the now crackling blaze.
Holding out her hands, Elizabeth warmed herself for a moment. It was still early, barely seven o’clock, and she wondered what had woken her. She donned her dressing gown and moved to her favorite place in her chamber: a comfortable armchair near the hearth. As she settled herself, she noticed a wrapped parcel resting on the table beside it.
“That was not there last night,” she murmured aloud.
With a shrug, she picked it up and examined the brown paper for any sign of the sender. She saw nothing other than her name written on the front in an elegant, masculine hand. She tugged at the twine and peeled back the paper. A velvet-covered jewel case lay within, and she stroked the smooth nap tenderly. As she opened the lid, a piece of paper tumbled into her lap.
A few lines were written on it in the same hand as the inscription on the outside.
On the first day of Christmas, a memory restored,
A token once cherished, from a heart long ignored.
Your true love came softly, with hope to reclaim—
A locket he gave you, on a gold chain.
Inside the case lay a lovely gold locket. An oval diamond sat at its center, its edges encircled by red garnets. The gems were set in gold, and the locket itself measured more than an inch tall. It struck her that it might be a family heirloom, and Elizabeth gasped in delight as she traced the embedded jewels with reverent fingers.
Surely, this is not meant for me!
Elizabeth was incredulous as she opened the locket, scarcely trusting her own eyes. Inside, a lock of dark hair was curled in a ring and tied with a bit of white ribbon. It held no hint of who the sender might be. She snapped the case closed and slipped the chain around her neck. The pendant felt heavy against her chest, but somehow, the weight was comforting.
“Lizzy?” Her door opened, and Jane stepped inside.
Letting out a small squeak, Elizabeth startled and turned to face her sister. “Jane! You frightened me. Come in and shut the door—quickly!”
Jane did as she was bid and came to her sister’s side. “What is that?” As expected, her first question concerned the mysterious gift.
“A gift…though I do not know who it is from.” She explained what had happened in hushed tones, as though afraid her recitation might bring others to her bedchamber.
“Oh, how lovely! You have an admirer.” Jane clapped her hands, excitement radiating from her in waves. “Could it be from Mr. Wickham?” she asked impulsively.
The hair in the locket was dark—just like the officer’s. Yet Elizabeth immediately doubted it could be so. No one had seen the gentleman since Mr. Darcy’s return to the neighborhood.
“I suppose we must wait and see if you receive another gift tomorrow. How very romantic for your admirer to recreate the Twelve Days of Christmas for you.” Jane sat on the arm of the chair. “I have exciting news to share, too, Lizzy. Mr. Bingley proposed last night!”
“Jane! You sly thing, you did not say a word!” She swatted her sister playfully. “Tell me, was it terribly sweet and satisfyingly charming? When will he speak to Papa?”
“If you recall,” Jane began, “last evening after the games, the furniture was moved for dancing. We danced a reel, and though my feet moved as they always do, my heart seemed quite untethered. Mr. Bingley—Charles—watched me with such fondness, as if I were the only one in the room.”
“When the music ended, he asked if I might take the air with him. I knew it was snowing—it had begun sometime after supper—but I said yes. We walked into the garden behind the house. Everything was still, hushed under a fine mantle of white, and the snow was falling slowly, like lace drifting from the sky.” Jane’s expression grew dreamy, her gaze drifting far away.
“We did not stray far, pausing by the arbor beneath an old hawthorn tree, and for a moment, he said nothing. I could hear the snow settling on the leaves and feel his hand trembling slightly as he took mine. Then, in his dear, earnest manner, he asked me to marry him. I could not speak right away; my heartwas too full. But when I nodded and he smiled, I felt as though the snow, the stars, the whole of the world had conspired to make that one moment perfect. It was a modest proposal, but in every way...it was mine.”
“Be sure to record that in your journal, dear sister, for that is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard.” Elizabeth sniffled. “Who knew your ‘Charles’ could be so very tender? I am extremely pleased for you, Jane. You will be very happy.”
Her sister reached out and clasped her hand. “As for when he will speak with Papa, I believe he intends to approach him before we all dine this evening on the Christmas feast cook has prepared. He and Mr. Darcy are to attend, if you recall.”
A small part of Elizabeth bristled at the prospect of once more enduringthat man’scompany, though her displeasure had waned somewhat.
“Will you wear the locket to-day?” Jane asked. “It is very fine.”
“I shall, though I mean to tuck it inside my gown. Can you imagine what Lydia will do if she sees it? I shall have to find a very good hiding place.”
“It will look lovely with your cream gown, and the sheer gold muslin overskirt shall catch the light most charmingly.” Jane jumped up and moved to the wardrobe, quickly finding the articles of clothing for which she searched. “Ah, here they are! Yes, these will do very nicely. We can weave a red ribbon into your hair, too.”
She thought the ensemble Jane chose for her was better suited to evening wear, but she cheerfully accepted her sister’s suggestions. Elizabeth then selected a moss green gown with cream embroidery for the day. She still wore the pendant, but it was tucked securely beneath the bodice of her gown. The chain was long enough that it would not slip into view unintentionally.
