“Yes, I did,” she answered. “Which is why it is not up to par. However, I thought it would be a more meaningful gift if I did it myself, rather than commissioning someone more qualified,” Elizabeth added with a chuckle.
“Quite right. It means so much more knowing that you were the artist. And it is breathtaking. You have captured it exactly.”
She blushed under his praise. “Thank you. I am glad it meets with your approval.”
“It more than meets with my approval,” Darcy told her. He took a small box out of his waistcoat pocket, holding it out to her. “Here, this is for you. Mine did not take nearly the amount of painstaking hours as yours did, but I thought it might be appreciated.”
“This is beautiful,” Elizabeth breathed as she lifted the lid of the jewellery box. “More than beautiful. I don’t have the words…”
Darcy himself had always been particularly fond of the piece, both for its family history and for the loveliness of the work itself. Nestled in the silk lining was an emerald brooch, the gemstone surrounded by a tracery of golden leaves. It was at once delicate and bold, exactly like his wife.
Her delight was all he could have wished. “May I?” Darcy asked softly, gesturing to it.
She nodded her assent, then allowed him to help her pin it to the right side of her gown. Darcy felt himself flush a little with embarrassment. Though he did his best to move with delicacy, the touch was unavoidably intimate — particularly given that, in one sense, she was not yet entirely his wife. “This belonged to my great-grandmother,” Darcy told her, his voice a little rough with emotion. “My great-grandfather had it specially made for her to match her bright green eyes on their first wedding anniversary. It has been in the family for over seventy years.”
Her head snapped up. “You want to give me one of your family heirlooms?” she asked.
“Of course. It is our family now.” He stepped back to look at it. “It looks well on you, as if it were made for you.”
She blushed, then looked down at the gift and ran her fingers over it again, as if she were not quite sure it was real. “I do not know how to thank you, Mr Darcy.”
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “Perhaps you might use one ofmypet names,” he whispered. “I should very much like it if you would call me Will.”
She raised her eyes to his. With a sudden, bone-deep thrill, Darcy saw that her breathing had grown quick and uneven. “Will,” she said gently.
The sound of his nickname on her lips made him feel only too much. All he wanted was to be alone with her, to tell her how he truly felt.
“What is this? What did my nephew give you, Elizabeth?” Lady Catherine called from the hearth.
With a reluctance he understood only too well, Elizabeth went to join the others. He followed closely behind. He must get control of himself. There would be time enough later on. For now, he must control his impatience.
“Mr Darcy gave me an emerald pin. It is exquisite, is it not?” Elizabeth asked. She went to sit beside his aunt, and the ladies fanned around her to admire the expensive gift.
Colonel Fitzwilliam came to his side and lowered his voice. “Well done, Darcy. I think your wife is most pleased with her present.”
“Yes, I had hoped it would be to her taste.” Darcy could not seem to stop looking over at his wife, wishing he might steal her away even then. He would do no such thing, of course. It would be entirely uncouth.
But a man could dream.
“It is more than to her taste, my good fellow. You gave her your great-grandmother’s brooch? The sentiment alone is priceless.”
“Do you truly believe she likes it?” Darcy asked him. Elizabeth would have received anything gracefully, regardless of her true feelings.
“She more than likes it, Darcy. Do not worry, you did well.” Fitzwilliam smiled and slapped him on the back. “She will be like putty in your hands later,” he murmured.
Darcy raised a brow, but was quite at a loss for words. His cousin shot him a mischievous grin, then suggested that they hear some music from Georgiana’s new stores.
It was not until the day was well progressed that Darcy had another opportunity of speaking to his wife in confidence. Upon seeing Elizabeth for once a little apart from the others, seated on the settee while they were gathered around the pianoforte and Georgiana, Darcy seized his opportunity. Pausing only to pour two cups of warm cider from the punch bowl, he joined Elizabeth on the settee, offering her a glass.
“Thank you,” she said. She took a sip, then sighed contentedly. “It has been a most enjoyable day.”
“I am glad you enjoyed yourself. I was concerned you would be missing your family.”
She sighed and nodded. “I did miss them. However, I am glad we had your family with us to make the holiday special.”
“Perhaps next year, we might invite your family for Christmas?” he suggested.
Her eyes grew wide. “I should like that very much. But my family is not…well. They are not, perhaps, what Pemberley is accustomed to. Should you really be willing to invite my younger sisters? Or my Aunt and Uncle Gardiner? They are very pleasantpeople, of good sense and excellent conversation, but my uncle is in trade.”
