Later that Christmas Day, news arrived from Lucas Lodge that Charlotte had given birth to a boy who appeared to be healthy and strong. Mr. Collins was over the moon with happiness, knowing that, once he took possession of Longbourn, his heir would secure it for the Collins family for the next generation. It was, he told Charlotte, the best Christmas present he had ever received.
***
Two days later, Mr. Bennet called his youngest daughter into his library and handed her a cheque for thirty pounds.
“I trust this will more than get you out of your difficulty with the landlord, Lydia,” he said. “I advise you to keep the rest of the money well hidden once you cash this at the bank so your husband does not waste it at gambling. Or—other items of pleasure.”
He saw that Lydia had the good grace to look somewhat abashed.
“Thank you, Papa, you do not know how much this means to me.” She tucked the paper into her pocket. “Wicky feels most terribly awful about the accident, you know. He would never wish to see you hurt—ever! I hope you believe that.”
Mr. Bennet briefly considered pointing out his side of the event but realized there would be no use. It would likely just send Lydia off in a tearful storm and upset the household yet again. He gave a small smile.
“Yes, of course. Who could even imagine him capable of plotting such a thing? After all, your inheritance is not so grand that it would be worth dispatching me. A thousand pounds may seem like a lot but would not last all that long for your family. But, my dear, do you wish me to speak to him—about the gambling, I mean? I should be happy to.”
Lydia shook her head. “Oh no, Papa. He has sworn he will give up the gambling tables and devote himself to our family. Thank you, but I believe all will be well.” She smiled brightly and stood. “I am so glad you are feeling better. I can go back north with confidence now.”
As Lydia left the library, Mrs. Hill appeared at the door.
“Mrs. Withers to see you, sir—only if you are up to it, she says.”
“Please send her in.”
“Good afternoon, Mr. Bennet,” Amelia said formally as she entered and curtseyed, holding out a parcel. “If this is not an inconvenient time, I wished to return the book you so kindly lent me.”
“Of course. I hope you enjoyed it, Mrs. Withers,” he replied, just as formally.
Once Mrs. Hill closed the door and they were alone, Amelia set the book down and rushed to take Mr. Bennet’s hands and kiss them.
“Oh, Eugene,” she said softly. “I have longed to be alone with you so that I could truly express how much happiness and gratitude I have that you survived the shooting. Seeing you able to be at Christmas dinner was a relief, but even so, I need to know for certain you are completely well.”
He drew her close in a long embrace, ignoring the sting of pain in his shoulder. “I am, thankfully. I must tell you, as I stumbled in pain back towards the house with Wickham half-carrying me, and felt the blood wet my shirt, my thoughts were only of you, dear Amelia—not the estate, not even my children, but only you. I can hardly account for it except to say that, to have discovered this magnificent new love at this point in my life, all I could think was: What if I do not survive to enjoy it?”
“But you did survive and will live many, many more years, I know it. And once we can make our feelings public and wed, I pledge to devote my entire life to your happiness.”
“Oh? What of your own happiness?” He arched his eyebrows and pulled back to smile at her.
Tears came to her eyes, and she pulled his hands up again to kiss them. “My happiness is complete. Merely knowing you feel as I do, I can want for nothing.”
Mr. Bennet gave a quick glance out the window to be certain no one was about. It was too cold for anyone to be out walking, but you never knew. Assured it was safe, he cupped his beloved’s face in his hands and kissed her gently. Her arms stole gently around his neck, and she eagerly returned his kiss. He broke the embrace reluctantly.
“Sit, sit. I have something for you—a Christmas present I dared not give you when you and your brother were here for dinner.” He gave a mischievous smile and went to his desk, opening a drawer and bringing out a roughly wrapped item. He returned to the settee and placed it in her hands.
“I must confess it is not new; it belonged to my former wife. She had not worn it in years. I think we both can agree it would cause too much gossip and suspicion if I went to the Meryton jeweler and bought anything. But I hope you will accept it and know and appreciate the love that stands behind it.”
“It is beautiful,” she whispered when she unwrapped the gold bracelet. She slid it over her slender hand and admired it on her wrist, glinting in the light. “I shall treasure it, Eugene. But…I did not anticipate we would exchange gifts this year. I have nothing for you.” She smiled shyly. “Except my heart, which I give to you with all my love.”
“A better present, my dear Amelia, I could not hope to imagine.”
Chapter 23
The New Year arrived, and with it came a visitor eagerly anticipated at the parsonage. Amelia fairly bubbled over with delight when Mary came for a visit.
“Mary, I cannot wait for you to meet our eldest brother, Phillip. I think you and your family will find him quite diverting.”
Privately, Mary thought no brother could possibly be of more interest to her than Mr. Robert Yarby, but she smiled politely. “I think you said he is a solicitor?”
“Yes—in London. But he has confided to Robert and me that he has grown weary of the big city and wishes to relocate. And it is my hope that, if Phillip fancies Meryton, he may in fact move here! That would be so wonderful. It has been years since all three of us were together in the same community.”
