Mr. Darcy's Christmas Carol (9 page)

Darcy wanted to offer her some comfort, but Elizabeth spoke before he could do so. “I was absolutely ashamed of myself. I had been blind, partial, prejudiced, and absurd. It was a hard realization to face, for I had prided myself on my discernment!” Elizabeth shook her head at her folly.

“I knew,” said he, “that what I wrote must give you pain; but it was necessary. I hope you have destroyed the letter. There was one part, especially the opening of it, which I should dread your having the power of reading again. I can remember some expressions which might justly make you hate me.”

“The letter shall certainly be burnt if you believe it essential to the preservation of my regard; however, though we both have proof that my opinions are not entirely unalterable, they also are not, I hope, quite so easily changed as that implies.”

“When I wrote that letter,” replied Darcy, “I believed myself perfectly calm and cool; but I am since convinced that it was written in a dreadful bitterness of spirit.”

“The letter, perhaps, began in bitterness; but it did not end so.” Elizabeth stopped to look at him. “The
adieu
is charity itself. But think no more of the letter. The feelings of the person who wrote it and the person who received it are now so widely different from what they were then that every unpleasant circumstance attending it ought to be forgotten. You must learn some of my philosophy. Think only of the past as its remembrance gives you pleasure.”

A quick flash of those memories he experienced the night before came to mind. “Many retrospections are so totally void of reproach that only contentment arises from them. The moment you agreed to marry me I will always treasure. However, painful recollections will intrude, which cannot, which ought not, to be repelled. They can teach one a lesson, hard indeed at first to learn, but really most advantageous.”

“You are becoming quite philosophical, Mr. Darcy.”

“So formal, Miss Bennet? I would wish that you would call me by my given name.”

“Fitzwilliam, then,” Elizabeth said before continuing on their walk. “I am almost afraid of asking what you thought of me when we met at Pemberley. You blamed me for coming?”

“No, indeed, I felt nothing but surprise.”

“Your surprise could not be greater than mine in being noticed by you. My conscience told me that I deserved no extraordinary politeness, and I confess that I did not expect to receive more than my due.”

“My object then,” replied Darcy, “was to show you, by every civility in my power, that I was not so mean as to resent the past; and I hoped to obtain your forgiveness, to lessen your ill opinion, by letting you see that your reproofs had been attended to. How soon any other wishes introduced themselves I can hardly tell, but I believe in about half an hour after I had seen you.”

He then told her of Georgiana's delight in her acquaintance: “I know she will be quite happy to learn that you are to be her new sister. She was quite disappointed not to further the acquaintance last summer.”

“If Lydia had not eloped,” she began, “this happy day may have come about much sooner. I wish to tell you how grateful I am, again, at your intervention in the matter.”

“I thought only of you,” Darcy told her. “Before I quit the inn, I had resolved on quitting Derbyshire in a quest for your sister. Your distress I could not bear, and as I believed it to be within my power to relieve it, I set about doing so.”

This is what love truly is,
Elizabeth thought, her heart thumping joyfully. She gave him a wistful smile. “I was sure that I would never see you again. The moment that you walked out the door of that inn, I knew I loved you, and I felt it would all come to naught. Now such a painful subject need not be dwelt upon further.

“So, what persuaded you to renew your addresses now? Was it the vision you spoke of earlier? It must have been a very convincing one. Do tell me about it.”

“Someday perhaps. It is a rather long and somewhat fanciful tale, too much to relate just now. The afternoon sky has darkened and I can see a servant has been sent out to search for us. I will say that the vision served to reinforce the wishes and desires I already possessed and gave me the courage to pursue them.”

They headed back to Bingley's house. Elizabeth entered before Darcy did. Alone in the garden he spoke aloud, “Thank you, Father and all the Spirits. I appreciate what you did for me and I will remember it always. I will do my best to see that Elizabeth is happy, for in her happiness is mine. I shall be worthy of the gift you have given me.”

As Darcy entered, he saw that Elizabeth was standing under a ball of mistletoe, brightly trimmed with evergreens, ribbons, and ornaments. And his eyes lit up.

“Elizabeth, do you realize where you are standing?”

Elizabeth looked up for a moment. “Certainly, I have very good eyesight.”

So Darcy gathered Elizabeth in his arms and used the kissing bough for it proper purpose. So engrossed were they in the activity, neither heard the approaching footsteps.

“Elizabeth Bennet!” cried her shocked mother.

“Mr. Darcy!” exclaimed the equally shocked Miss Bingley.

“At last,” Bingley said as he winked at his wife, who smiled happily in return.

Christmas 1843

“Look at Grandmama and Grandfather under the kissing bough,” cried young Master Timothy Darcy from the top of the stairs.

“It is a long-standing Christmas tradition,” his father, Bennet Darcy, informed him.

“Is everyone here? Will there be dinner soon?” Timothy asked.

Several Bingleys made their way into the hall. “Are we the last to arrive?” asked Jane.

“We are only awaiting the arrival of Uncle Gardiner. Now, Timothy—and is that Belinda and Bettina?—why don't the three of you run along to the back parlor and visit with your other cousins,” Elizabeth told them.

“Yes, Grandmama, but will he be here soon?” he called out.

“Very soon, my dear, very soon.”

“Do you ever find yourself losing track of who's who among our minor relations? Lord, there are more of them every year it seems,” declared Charles Bingley.

“Well, you would have a large family,” Darcy reminded him.

“It is not all my fault you know; between our children and grandchildren, the Gardiner progeny and your sister's offspring, family gatherings can get overpopulated rather quickly.”

They made their way into the parlor where the adult members of the party had gathered. Darcy thought it a good thing that not all the connected relations were able to come. The ballroom would have had to have been opened to accommodate them all for dinner.

Jane and Elizabeth lingered in the hallway, wishing each other a Merry Christmas and exchanging tidbits of family news when the front door opened and Mr. Gardiner entered.

“The most extraordinary thing happened today,” Mr. Gardiner exclaimed as a footman helped him remove his coat. “A most extraordinary thing.”

“And a Merry Christmas to you also, Uncle,” Elizabeth cheerfully greeted them.

“I apologize, my dear,” returned her uncle with a twinkle in his eyes. “The very best of Christmases to you both. You are looking well, very well indeed. And best wishes on your anniversaries. Neither of you look older than when you were brides.”

“You are a flatterer, sir, but my appearance is appropriate for a matron of my years.”

“You cannot be that old, Elizabeth, for that would make me ancient.”

“I regret to inform you that you are indeed ancient”—Elizabeth smiled at him—“and I am glad to have it so. Shall we join the others in the parlor?”

After greetings were exchanged and everyone was made comfortable, Jane asked, “What is the extraordinary thing that happened to you, Uncle?”

“Do you have a story to tell, Uncle?” asked Bingley. “I for one would be delighted to hear it.”

“Part of my tale is already known to Darcy, for he was there at its beginning and can attest, in part, to the truth of my words. Yesterday, our Gentlemen's Benevolent Society went about asking for donations from various businesses. Darcy and I came upon the most miserly gentleman I have yet to meet. His office was so cold that it was impossible to know inside from out by temperature alone.” The servant offered some wine to Mr. Gardiner. “Thank you. It is just what I needed.”

“Do continue your tale, Uncle, for you have whetted our curiosity,” Jane begged and the others in the room also begged for the tale.

“Well, my dear, Darcy and I went forth to gather funds in the area of town where Mr. Scrooge has his business. ‘Have I the pleasure of addressing Mr. Scrooge or Mr. Marley?' asked Darcy.

“‘Mr. Marley has been dead these seven years,' Scrooge replied. ‘He died this very night.'

“Now, a chill went down my spine when I heard this, but whether it was from the lack of warmth in the office or in Scrooge's tone, I cannot tell, but Darcy carried on, ‘We have no doubt his liberality is well represented by his surviving partner,' he said.

“Scrooge frowned and shook his head. The cold seemed to freeze his features, nipped his pointed nose, and shriveled his cheek. Frost had settled on his head and on his eyebrows and his wiry chin.”

“Stop teasing, Father,” Alice exclaimed.

“I do not exaggerate,” claimed Uncle Gardiner.

“At least not very much,” Darcy responded dryly. “I explained the purpose of the visit, of gathering funds to provide some slight provisions for the poor and destitute.”

Mr. Gardiner continued, “I swear his eyes turned red, and his lips compressed into a thin blue line. In a grating voice he demanded ‘Are there no prisons? Are the workhouses still in operation? Are the Treadmill and the Poor Law still in full vigor?'

“When we agreed that indeed these institutions were still in operation, he said, ‘I was afraid that something had occurred to stop them in their useful course.'

“I then explained that these places could hardly supply much in the way of a Christmas celebration and asked how much he wished to contribute.

“‘Nothing!' Scrooge replied.

“‘You wish to be anonymous?' asked Darcy.

“‘I wish to be left alone,' said Scrooge. ‘Since you ask me what I wish, gentlemen, that is my answer. I don't make merry myself at Christmas and I can't afford to make idle people merry. I help to support the establishments I have mentioned—they cost enough; and those who are badly off must go there.'”

“Oh, he sounds a horrid fellow, Father,” exclaimed Alice.

The door to the parlor opened, and a young girl of perhaps six or so came into the room.

“Grandpapa!” she exclaimed and made her way to Mr. Gardiner for a welcoming hug. “Did you know we are to have turkey and stuffing and Christmas pudding? Very soon, I hope.”

“Rebecca, you should be in the back parlor with the rest of the children; the turkey will be in the dining room when it is ready,” her mother scolded.

“I can remember a time when you liked a roast goose well enough yourself, Alice,” recalled Mr. Gardiner, setting his granddaughter on his knee.

“I did not forever go on about it,” Alice said.

“Oh, did you not? Rebecca, your mother used to—” Robert started.

But Alice quickly interrupted. “Father has not finished his story. What happened then?”

“Where was I? Ah, yes, the poor were to go to the publicly supported institutions. I then replied that many would rather die than go to such places. ‘If they would rather die,' said Scrooge, ‘they had better do it, and decrease the surplus population.'”

“The man is positively dreadful,” exclaimed Elizabeth.

“Seeing clearly that it would be useless to pursue the point, we withdrew. We agreed that we had never met a more tight-fisted old sinner! Luckily for the Society, most of the businesses we approached were generous enough to give at least a little to our cause.”

“I agree that he was most unpleasant, but as there is nothing extraordinary in that part of the tale, misers are not uncommon,” Darcy remarked.

“I am getting to that part, never fear.” He took another sip of wine and leaned forward to continue his tale when the door to the parlor opened yet again.

“Dinner is served,” announced the butler.

“Can it not wait until the tale is done?” asked Alice.

“No, no, my dear, the turkey is ready and must not be kept waiting; I shall finish the tale after our grand feast. Come along, Rebecca.” Taking his granddaughter's hand, he led the exodus out of the parlor and into the dining room.

***

Sometime later, when bellies were full of a bountiful Christmas repast, the family retired to the large drawing room, where a Christmas tree stood tall and proud.

“What think you of this new fashion, Darcy?” Mr. Gardiner asked, surveying the tree.

“I like it very much,” exclaimed Rebecca. “It is very pretty.”

“Yes, indeed, but I did not ask
you
, my dear.”

“It is an old custom in some parts of the world, I am told. Whether it will remain in fashion here, only time will tell, but I like it well enough.”

“As do I. Now dear Uncle, you have kept us in suspense long enough, do finish your story,” Elizabeth demanded.

“Very well, my dear. Some members of the Benevolent Society gathered this morning, so we could deliver the goods we had purchased.”

“Well, what happened to you?” demanded young Timothy Darcy.

“I had decided to walk to our meeting, it being such a beautiful morning. I had not gone far when I beheld Mr. Scrooge coming toward me. Having no wish to remember the unpleasantness of the day before, I did my best to ignore the old gentleman, only to be waylaid by a hail from Scrooge himself.

“‘My dear sir,' he exclaimed, taking both my hands. ‘How do you do? I hope you succeeded exceptionally well yesterday. It was very kind of you. A Merry Christmas to you, sir!'

“‘Mr. Scrooge?' I asked, for I was dumbfounded and wondering if my memory was so faulty that I had attributed Scrooge's faults onto an innocent look-alike.

“He answered in the affirmative. ‘I fear my presence may not be pleasant to you. Allow me to ask your pardon. And will you have the goodness to accept a substantial donation to your cause, say £5,000?'”

“Lord bless me!” croaked Bingley, his breath being taken away.

“Was he serious, do you think?” commented Robert.

“Very serious, for while I was still doubting what I heard, he continued, ‘Not a farthing less. A great many back-payments are included in it, I assure you. Will you do me that favor?'

“‘My dear sir,' I began to shake his hand most violently. ‘I don't know what to say to such munificence—'

“‘Don't say anything, please,' retorted Scrooge. ‘Come and see me. Will you come and see me?'

“‘I will!' I cried.

“‘Thank you,' said Scrooge. ‘I am much obliged to you. I thank you fifty times. Bless you!'

“Well, I stood in the street for a good five minutes, trying to grasp what had just befallen before hurrying on to our meeting. I entered the room with such a stunned expression on my face that the others could not but wonder what had happened to me. So I told them the same story that I told you. The members rejoiced at what £5,000 could provide to those we serve. I mean to visit Scrooge at the earliest opportunity, for one cannot know how long such a transformation will last.”

“I will believe it when the money is received and not a moment before,” Darcy stated, such was his ill impression of the man.

“What could have occurred to cause such a transformation?” Elizabeth commented.

“I wondered that myself and so I asked him.”

“You spoke with him about it?” asked Jane.

“Scrooge again hailed me as I was on my way here, he looked so pleasant and also younger. Yesterday I would have figured he was as old or older than myself.”

“As ancient as that then?” Bingley asked with a twinkle in his eye.

“Quite ancient, but it was his spirit and demeanor that made him appear so aged—in reality he is only a little older than yourself and Darcy. One of the Society members vaguely remembered that he was a young man when he established his business some thirty years ago. But let us return to the present Mr. Scrooge. ‘Good day, sir! A Merry Christmas to you! It seems to be our day for chance meetings. You are still coming to see me tomorrow?'

“‘I nodded in agreement.'

“‘And where are you off to?' he asked.

“I explained that I was going to have Christmas dinner with my family and he said he was about to do same. I thought he seemed excited yet anxious about the visit. He was about to turn away when I again thanked him very much for his generosity this morning.

“He commented that he had not known that generosity could make a man feel so happy.

“Emboldened by his response, I asked what had occurred to change him so, that only yesterday a penny was too much to give to the poor and today his liberality is overflowing.

“‘I have been blessed by the Christmas Spirits, Mr. Gardiner, the Christmas Spirits have the way to making a man change his destiny,' he said, before turning and walking away.”

He did not see Darcy stiffen upon these words, but Elizabeth did and her hand reached out to clasp his.

“At first, I thought he meant some sort of liquor, but I could tell he was not drunk. So, I wondered who are these spirits and how can I get hold of one of them?”

“They only come when one is in need of them,” Darcy answered without thinking. And he was grateful for them every day. He looked around the room, at the faces of his family and friends, and knew he would be thankful until the day he died. Elizabeth reached over to him and clasped his hand.

“What did you say?”

“I say that it is time to light the candles upon the tree,” Elizabeth interrupted. “Now children, you must be very careful. Light only one candle and then back away. All the candles will be lit, never fear.”

When the task was completed and the room aglow, Elizabeth began to play Christmas carols and the family joined in singing until their throats grew dry. Luckily, the servants were just then bringing in a large punch bowl. As soon as everyone had a cup, Bingley exclaimed, “I think we need a toast. Mr. Gardiner, will you do the honors?”

“I propose we drink to Mr. Scrooge, for changing his heart in such a dramatic and generous manner, so God bless Mr. Scrooge.”

Everyone drank to the toast.

“Can I make a toast?” asked Timothy, tugging on Bingley's coat.

“Certainly. Come with me.” Bingley led the boy over to the piano bench and helped him stand upon it. “Your attention everyone, Master Timothy would like to make a toast.”

“God Bless Grandmama and Grandfather, and Father and Mother and Uncle and Bingley and…” He broke off, looking around at the all faces in the room. “Ah, God bless us, every one!”