“Thank you.”
The company bustled about them, full of holiday cheer and familial chatter. Miss Mary entertained them with songs on the pianoforte, while the two youngest Bennets were bent over an embroidery frame in the corner, one helping the other with a difficult stitch. But for Darcy, all else receded. What mattered was the woman beside him—and the growing certainty that she might become the very heart of his world.
Chapter Twenty-Three
January 4, 1812
Longourn
Elizabeth
Themorningbrokecrispand cold, the kind of biting chill that turned breath to mist and tempted one to linger beneath a counterpane. Frost glistened upon the glass, painting delicate arabesques with nature’s unseen hand, and obscuring the world without. And within Elizabeth’s chamber, the fire had burned low in the night, and the air now held the sting of winter against her cheeks.
Still, curiosity overpowered comfort.
Elizabeth stretched, her arms reaching toward the bed curtains before she tossed the coverlet aside and slipped from the bed. The chill met her skin with a nip, and she gave a startled squeak as she padded across the rug in haste to the table where anew parcel awaited. Another gift: large, ornate, and gleaming in the early light, it rested beside a folded slip of paper bearing her name in that now-familiar, strong hand.
With tingling fingers, she opened the note first:
On the eleventh day of Christmas, in a jewel box divine,
Eleven sapphires of deep, steadfast shine.
Her breath caught. Sapphire? She reached for the box.
It was unlike any she had ever seen. Made of rich rosewood with inlaid panels of ivory and mother-of-pearl, it was shaped like a miniature chest, the lid curved and edged in gilt filigree. A delicate clasp of bright sterling silver caught the light. Upon the top lay a marquetry design: a bouquet entwined with musical notes, carved with precision into the glossy surface. When she lifted it, a lining of plush ivory velvet was revealed, against which rested eleven sapphire hairpins, each crowned with a faceted gem set in fine silver stems, their brilliance heightened by so pure a ground. The stones shone with the brightness of twilight.
Her heart thudded as she took one in hand, the gem catching the light. “To match my fine eyes, I imagine,” she murmured with a smile.
The door opened, and Jane and Mary entered, both wrapped in shawls.
“Oh, how beautiful!” Jane exclaimed, stepping nearer to admire the box and pins. “They suit you perfectly.”
“Your gentleman has exquisite taste,” Mary observed, touching the edge of the box reverently. “Are you prepared to learn who he is?”
Elizabeth hesitated, her smile wavering. “I…I do not know. What if he never comes forward? What if it ends as a riddle never solved?” She bent over the pins, her fingers gently brushing one gem. “He could vanish, leaving his identity a mystery forever.”
“To think he has shown such devotion,” Jane mused softly. “Eleven gifts already.”
Elizabeth, in true Bennet fashion, turned the subject before her emotions could take root. “And speaking of devotion, Mary, should we not be speaking of Mr. Sanderson?”
A rush of pink stole into Mary’s cheeks, her hand flying to her mouth. “Elizabeth!”
“Well, he is expected at tea, is he not?” Elizabeth continued, recalling her sister’s mention of it the previous evening. “And from what I have observed, he has every intention of declaring himself soon.”
“I have every expectation of a proposal,” Mary admitted, cheeks still flushed. “And with the militia possibly relocating, we may not wait long after that to marry.”
“Then you will be the second of us wed,” Elizabeth teased.
At this, Jane gave a soft laugh.
Mary turned to her eldest sister with interest. “Mama monopolized the conversation yesterday; we never heard the tale of the necklace. Is it new? Did Mr. Bingley commission it?”
Jane’s hand lifted to her throat, touching the ornament. “No, it belonged to his mother. She left it to him, intending he should one day give it to his wife.”
“How romantic,” Elizabeth said sincerely. “It is truly lovely.”
“And Mama was not pleased with the date. We have settled on the twentieth of February. She spent the rest of the evening trying to convince us to delay.”
