Miss Bennet wrinkled her nose. “Pipers?” she asked, a touch of desperation in her voice.
“Ten pipers piping, Miss Bennet!” Bingley laughed. “You have confused them with the drummers.”
Laughter rippled through the drawing room, and Jane groaned. “Lizzy is much better at this game than I,” she said, nudging her sister’s shoulder. “Very well, what is my forfeit?”
“A dance with me, of course, when it is time.” Bingley grinned as the musicians struck up a lively tune. “Unless you had rather compose a verse to mark your folly?”
She laughed merrily and shook her head. “Dancing is infinitely preferable to composing a verse. Oh, the things we endure for the sake of Christmas cheer.”
Darcy took the seat beside Elizabeth as Miss Bennet and Bingley strolled toward the musicians. “Can you recall all the words to the poem?” His curiosity was plain. “Your sister’s faith in you is very strong.”
She glanced at him, her expression tinged with surprise, as though unaccustomed to such direct address. Darcy could not understand it—he had spoken with her often these past weeks, both in company and in private.
“I can recite the verses correctly,” she replied with a slight incline of her head. “It is an easy poem to remember. Of more interest are the elaborate gifts the recipient receives from her lover. Why, he must have spent nearly one hundred pounds on his beloved! Such an exorbitant sum.”
“How much is too much when a man wishes to demonstrate the depth of his regard to the woman he loves?” Darcy countered, his tone calm, though his gaze remained fixed upon her.
A flicker of skepticism appeared in her enchanting eyes. “Affection ought not to be measured by the price of a gift, sir. I would consider such displays superficial and insincere. Trinkets are no substitute for true understanding and attachment.”
“But we do not know whether our mysterious suitor gave his true love only physical tokens,” Darcy returned, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Perhaps he took her to the museum on another occasion—or read her poetry beside the fire.”
At that, Elizabeth laughed heartily, drawing the glance of a passing matron before she lowered her voice. “Touché, sir. We have but one record of his declarations of love, and you have filled the blanks in a most ingenious manner.”
Darcy’s smile widened, though he contained it. “Then let us suppose he offered her his time, his attentions, and his heart—and the turtle doves were merely added for good measure.”
She angled herself toward him, the candlelight flickering across her features. “Would you have me believe that turtle doves are the language of the heart?”
“Only when given with sincerity.”
A moment passed—silent, but expectant. Then he asked, lower still, “Would you object to an admirer expressing his sentiments through gifts?”
He knew the question ventured too near a confession—but for once, he did not care.
Elizabeth tilted her head, her eyes narrowing in thought. “If I were certain of this gentleman’s regard—if he showed his admiration through kindness, respect, and genuine feeling—I should not object. Gifts, when accompanied by such attentions, may be charming. Without them, they are merely ornament.”
Her answer warmed him, but he dared not reveal it. He gave a slight nod, unable to suppress the smile that curved at the corner of his mouth. “Then let us be assured that the gentleman in question will prove himself with something beyond ornament.”
“Let us trust he will do so.” Her eyes lingered on his, something subtle and curious dancing in their depths.
Darcy changed the subject, asking after her family’s Christmas traditions. He listened with attentiveness as she described the Bennets’ plans for the morrow. They, like the Darcys, exchanged gifts on Christmas Day. After a generous meal, the family passed the hours in quiet pursuits. It sounded…lovely.
As she spoke, the beginnings of an idea formed in Darcy’s mind. He latched onto the thought, puzzling out its particulars while they conversed. When Mr. Long declared it was time for dancing, he was quick to ask Elizabeth to stand up with him. She did not refuse, but neither did she look as pleased with the notion as he had fancied she might. Their dance was a lively one, allowing little opportunity to exchange more than a few words. Afterward, he asked several other ladies to dance, consciousthat one of her objections to him stemmed from the assembly where they first met.
When he and Bingley finally set off in the carriage, he sank gratefully into the squabs, brooding upon the idea that had taken root earlier. It had merit. Resolved, as soon as they arrived at Netherfield, he retired to his chamber to compose the notes he intended to send as part of his plan. With any luck, he could begin the very next day.
Chapter Five
December 25, 1811
Longbourn
Elizabeth
ChristmasmorningatLongbournusually began around nine o’clock. The youngest of the Bennet sisters were always the first to meander downstairs—Lydia with red and white ribbons woven into her hair, and Kitty drawing her favorite shawl tightly about her shoulders. Mary, Elizabeth, and Jane descended a little later, followed by their parents. After breakfast, it was their habit to spend a quiet morning together, each occupied with their own tasks or amusements.
Dinner that evening would consist of roast meats and fowl—typically beef, venison, and goose, followed by plum pudding filled with suet, dried fruits, spices, and brandy. Cook always served it with a rich sauce, setting the dessert alight for adramatic flair. Both sweet and savory pies were also on offer, mince-pie being a family favorite. Cheeses, jellies, preserved fruits, nuts, and spiced wine or punch also graced the sideboard. According to custom, the servants were granted the day following Christmas, Boxing Day, to visit their families. Consequently, meals on that day comprised cold fare and simple bread and cheese.
Elizabeth awoke slowly that morning. She glanced toward the window, where the ice clinging to the panes promised snow upon the ground below. Her Aunt and Uncle Gardiner had arrived the night before and were already abed when the rest of the family had returned from Haye Park. A snowball fight, she thought, would be just the thing to entertain her young cousins.
