And a Happy Christmas 🙂 Oh I laughed so hard at the end of the little girl not telling Mr. Darcy her name! 🙂Â
XOXOXO Elizabeth Ann West
Chapter 7 - A Winter Wonder, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Freshly cut boughs of evergreen decorated every flat surface of the first floor of Pemberley. After months of planning her first house event for the tenant families, Elizabeth Darcy inhaled the refreshing scents of pine and woods mixed with spices feeling immense satisfaction in making the home a success. She made one last tour of the ground floor before retiring above stairs to keep a keen eye for her imminent guests.
A light snow had threatened Mrs. Darcy’s careful plans for the families of Pemberley, but thankfully a mere dusting was not enough to deter the genuine interest in seeing their new mistress.
Having attended church services all morning, the estate planned to be open for the afternoon hours the Sunday before Christmas for the tenant party. Elizabeth stood sentry at the large expansive window in her own apartments looking out across the fields. In the distance, she could see wagons approaching, sure signs that her invitation to the great house had been well received. Glee bubbled up inside as a pair of strong masculine arms wrapped themselves around her midsection. A cold nose made her squeal as the owner pressed it against the nape of her neck. Playfully, she swatted at the hands engulfing her to no avail.
“Fitzwilliam! Every time you take a ride with Mr. Hampton you do not need to warm your nose on my skin, sir.”
“But my dear, where else would you like for me to warm my nose? Here? Or perhaps here?” Darcy’s hands roamed salaciously over his wife’s body, eliciting more than only giggles from the woman yet to be his bride for a full calendar year.
Happily, the Darcys settled into sharing the same previous embrace as they both watched the progress of the families approaching. Elizabeth frowned as she felt her husband’s hands gently prod and push her stomach trying ever so desperately to feel signs of his child.
“I assure you he was quite active this morning, but since I’ve eaten, I fear I may have put him to sleep.”
“Perhaps activity on his mother’s part will stir him awake?”
A knock on Mrs. Darcy’s apartments interrupted the interlude. Hannah whisked out of the dressing room to answer and the Darcys were not surprised to see the usual suspects entering. Collectively they were referred to as the girls: Georgiana, Catherine, and Mary. The trio appeared solidified in some type of recent mischief, but neither Darcy nor Elizabeth could puzzle the bonding out. With Mary’s involvement, Elizabeth was not too concerned, but the sisterly affection between the three women had grown vastly in the last few weeks.
“Mama is in the sitting room with Lady Matlock and they are arguing over the gifts for the tenants.” Kitty tattled happily as her sister Lizzie turned and groaned, pressing her forehead against her husband’s.
“Truly, must the two of them go at it incessantly?” she whispered.
“You know you have my support, if you should need it.” Darcy’s brown eyes unflinchingly locked with his wife’s.
“Thank you, but no Fitzwilliam. This is one battle I must fight on my own I am afraid. Your task is to find what you can wheedle out of your uncle and cousin and I will handle our aunt and my mother.” Elizabeth’s eyes widened as her husband pinched her behind in a manner not visible to their guests.
The girls parted their grouping to allow Elizabeth to pass, falling lockstep behind her. The ensuing drama was not one any of them wished to miss. Darcy, on the other hand, retreated. Calling for his valet, he wished for nothing more than to don a fresh set of clothes before speaking to his relatives or tenants. His wife was kind not to say so, but even he could smell the strong scent of horse on his person. There was always time later to question his uncle and cousin.
The formal sitting room displayed every elegant touch of Mrs. Darcy’s taste from wall to wall. Despite Mrs. Bennet’s numerous attempt to manage the plans, her opinions were carefully excluded by both her daughter and the housekeeper. To see the room now in utter disarray with gifts no longer organized as they were so carefully before and Lady Matlock and Mrs. Bennet ordering two maids to move more items about brought Lizzie’s temper to a boil. However, before she spoke she reminded herself three times ’tis the season for patience, ’tis the season for forgiveness as taught at church no later than that very morning. The mantra allowed her to choose her words more carefully, but she made her message clear.
“Aunt Margaret, Mama, have you taken it upon yourself to undo all of my carefully thought out plans?” Mrs. Darcy, standing in a formidable pose with her hands on her hips, had taken no more than three footsteps into the room before issuing her question in a very direct tone that brooked no disrespect.
Both Lady Matlock and Mrs. Bennet abandoned their squabbles and froze. From their perspective, it appeared Mrs. Darcy stood before them flanked by an army. For not only were her sisters, the Miss Bennets and Miss Darcy, standing behind her, but also two additional maids and Mrs. Reynolds. All seven of the women in the doorway held various expressions of displeasure.
“We only noticed the gifts had been left divided up into these little groupings all throughout the room. We thought it best to consolidate them so that you might have a proper receiving line as is your due of Mrs. Darcy.” Lady Matlock remained chipper as she gave her explanation, fully expecting her niece by marriage to understand it was merely the voice of experience taking a hand.
“And if you had not only arrived two days ago you would know, Aunt Margaret, that I expressly did not want a receiving line. I have visited these families and we arranged a number of small gifts and trinkets for the children and families, but wish for them to choose their own gift as suits their needs and desires.”
“No receiving line?”
Mrs. Darcy slowly shook her head.
“You – you,” Lady Matlock swallowed as the information registered in her mind, “you wish to allow them to choose their gift?”
“Precisely.”
“Oh Lizzie, I tried to explain your system, and I’m sure Lady Matlock was only trying to help, but I did feel the blankets and linens should be at the front of the room instead of the back of the room and that the toys ought to be in another room entirely so that the very young children do not spoil the festivities.” Mrs. Bennet also beamed at her daughter but did not receive any reprieve either.
Weekly chapter alerts, news, and other happy tidings! Join my mailing list!
Chapter 7 (cont'd) - A Winter Wonder, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
Feeling the moment was another line in the sand that the Darcy family must clearly establish, Elizabeth Darcy walked forward to approach both her aunt and her mother. In a very quiet voice she addressed them both as they met her in a somewhat small huddle.
“While Fitzwilliam and I respect to both of you for your position in this family and in society, I must strongly remind that you are guests in my home. If there is another attempt to undermine my chief duty here as mistress of this household, including changing the menus, Aunt Margaret,” Elizabeth rested her gaze for a moment on Darcy’s aunt, “and trying to change the sleeping arrangements, Mama,” she turned to her mother. “I will ask both of you to leave. Do we have an accord?” Elizabeth Darcy waited for a simple nod from both women.
Plastering a fake smile on her face, Elizabeth Darcy turned around and addressed Mrs. Reynolds. “Both Lady Matlock and my mother feel it best to retire to their apartments this afternoon for a rest before the evening meal. Can the kitchens see to a small repast for each?”
Mrs. Reynolds beckoned the two disobedient maids assisting Mrs. Darcy’s relatives and dispatched them to fulfill the mistress’ order. Dismissed like schoolgirls, Lady Matlock and Mrs. Bennet had little choice but to follow the edict of Mrs. Darcy, even if both of them wished to throttle the young woman. Pemberley was indeed her home and neither had any delusions that her husband might side with them in an argument against the formidable new bride. Where Lady Matlock exited the room with a noble flourish of body language, Mrs. Bennet babbled on to her other girls as she left explaining she meant no harm.
Within the hour, the first tenant family arrived and all was restored to the previous plans by Mrs. Reynolds, Mrs. Darcy, her sisters, and the maids. The children delighted in moving from corner to corner of the large room finding new treasures and delights designed merely for their pleasure.
Georgiana sat as one of the most popular people in the room for she held the bags of sweets prepackaged with festive curls in crimson ribbon. But many of the boys enjoyed the wooden swords handed out by Mr. Darcy himself, a few participating in a play duel or two with the great master. The exchange warmed Elizabeth’s heart as the poor man looked up at her with a roguish smile and a glisten of sweat on his forehead. The exchange was short-lived as the gang of boys cried “More, more!”
As the afternoon passed in lightheartedness and fellowship, Catherine Bennet pulled out her portfolio and began to write her thoughts as she captured the scene with her eyes. Before too long, her scribbles attracted the attention of a young girl in a handed-down dress of faded calico. Tucked protectively in her arm was the new doll Mary Bennet had given her. Earnestly, she watched the fine lady make slashes and scratches to magically place words on the page. Feeling watched, Kitty looked up and smiled at the young girl who smiled back.
“And what is your name dear?”
“Amelia Hastings. And I’m seven-years-old.”
Kitty laughed at the young girl who seemed practiced at announcing her name and her age to all adults who inquired.
“My name is Catherine Bennet. But they call me Kitty. And I am eighteen-years-old.” Kitty’s echo of Amelia’s speech made young girl laugh and she courageously asked Kitty where she learned to write letters. Kitty tilted her head to one side as she looked at the girl more closely.
“Do you know how to spell your name, Amelia?” The young girl nodded. Kitty dipped the quill in ink and handed it to Amelia to ask her if she would like to write her name on her paper. The young girl suddenly shrank back and shook her head.
“I’d make a mess of it, my lady. I’ve never learnt.”
Kitty looked around the room and realized hardly anyone was paying any mind to her and Amelia so Kitty carefully folded the bottom inch of her parchment and then tore the paper along the crease. Holding her quill so the young girl might see, she very neatly printed Amelia Hastings and then blew on the ink to make sure it properly dried before handing the scrap of parchment to the young girl.
Holding her name in her hands Amelia’s face lit up as her eyes traveled from letter to letter mouthing each formation as she had been taught orally by her mother. Kitty smiled and returned back to writing her narrative as the young Miss Hastings scampered off. But not mere minutes later, two new children approached Kitty and tentatively asked if she might write their names down for them to have. Kitty smiled and took the requests with good humor, taking care to fold the parchment two more times and tear the bottoms, producing yet two more scraps of paper with mere names written on them. Of course these two children told more, and soon even the children from the sweets by Georgiana had crowded around Kitty each waiting patiently for their own piece of parchment with their name written upon it.
Before too long, the sudden migration of the children to Kitty’s corner had attracted the notice of Mrs. Darcy and her husband.
“Oh, Kitty must be telling them a story!” Elizabeth exclaimed
Standing a head taller than Elizabeth, Fitzwilliam was able to see that Kitty was not speaking to the children, but instead listening as they whispered into her ear and then writing something on a piece of paper in handing it to each child individually.
Darcy motioned for his housekeeper pointing at the corner. Mrs. Reynolds took a closer look and upon realizing the children were giving tasks to Miss Catherine, she moved to quietly break up the endeavors. That was not Darcy’s intention, as he merely wished to know what it was that Kitty was giving the children. His long strides made short work of traversing the room and arriving nearly the same time as Mrs. Reynolds making her second attempts to stop the giving of names. Almost immediately, Darcy understood the situation from seeing the names held preciously by the children already served and the craned necks and impatient fidgets of the children still awaiting their turns.
“Miss Catherine, I wonder if you might have another quill with you?”
Kitty responded in the positive to her brother-in-law and handed him a quill. The children parted ways to give room for Mr. Darcy to sit next to Miss Catherine. Borrowing a book from the shelf along the wall, Darcy took a piece of parchment from his sister and joined her in the efforts of giving each child their name written upon a scrap of paper.
WHAT A DEAL!
A kiss at the Netherfield Ball . . .
Three Dates with Mr. Darcy is a bundle of: An exclusive story, Much to Conceal, a novella that imagines what if Elizabeth confessed to Jane in London that Mr. Darcy proposed in Kent?
A Winter Wrong, the first novella in the Seasons of Serendipity series that imagines what if Mr. Bennet died at the very beginning of Pride and Prejudice?
By Consequence of Marriage, the first novel in the Moralities of Marriage series that wonders what if Mr. Darcy never saved his sister Georgiana from Wickham’s clutches?
Elizabeth Ann West’s Pride and Prejudice variations have enthralled more than 100,000 readers in over 90 countries! A proud member of the Jane Austen Fan Fiction community since the mid-2000s, she hopes you will join her in being happily Darcy addicted!
Chapter 7(cont'd) - A Winter Wonder, a Pride and Prejudice Variation
With Mrs. Reynolds retreated to see that the refreshments along the back table were still properly tended to, Darcy happily filled the requests of two strapping young lads before his first tough customer approached.
For a moment the little girl did not say anything. Darcy was perplexed on how to proceed until he finally decided to merely ask the young girl for her name. The little girl twisted in place and looked at the floor, her voice as quiet as a mouse in whatever she responded.
Darcy leaned closer and apologized but he could not hear her. “Please my dear, could you speak a little louder?”
That appeared to be the only encouragement the young girl needed for she looked directly at the Master of Pemberley and announced in a very clear voice “I do not want you to write my name, but the pretty lady to do it, sir!”
The surrounding adults roared with laughter when Mr. Darcy laughed loudly first at himself.
“It would appear my penmanship is not quite satisfactory, so I will leave you, Miss Catherine, to fulfill these Christmas wishes if you do not mind?”
“Not in the slightest, Brother Fitzwilliam. Not in the slightest.” Kitty continued to listen and giggle with the children as she began to make up silly names for them to correct. The young man she was still helping tried to explain his first name was not Hognosh, but Harold! He had become quite indignant until Kitty winked at him and he realized she was having a bit of fun.
The rare use of the moniker brother before his first name lightened Darcy’s heart. His relationship with Miss Catherine had become tenuous at times since he squashed the publication of her novel she and Georgiana submitted to a publisher under his name. He rejoined his wife as she stood in the corner speaking to Mr. Hampton, and Darcy’s uncle, the Earl of Matlock. He had originally worried his wife’s plans for a party-like atmosphere for the tenants would go poorly, but now he had to admit, this was a very Happy Christmas.
As the festivities died down, Mr. Hampton approached Mr. Darcy who nodded his head. Bewildered, Elizabeth Darcy trailed off in her discussions with Georgiana about giving the children extra sweets as there were still bags left over as her husband asked for the attentions of the room. Quickly, a hush fell over the merry-making as the booming voice of the Master of Pemberley held plenty of volume to raise interest.
“Two months ago it became my unfortunate notice that Pemberley lost a family on its lands. While none of us know for certain what made the Cortlands abandon their farm, the necessity of filling the fields became paramount. I chose to open the opportunity to our existing families first, and I appreciate that so many of you showed interest in taking on more fields.” The room began to quietly murmur about the opportunity.
A woman Elizabeth had met a few times on her tenant family visits leaned in to speak to the mistress. “He’s a right fair man, your husband. He didn’t even raise the rents on the lands.”
Elizabeth smiled at the widow Mrs. Gibbons. “Now you know the truth of why I married him. The first time he asked for a courtship, I turned him down. But his generosity and good nature won me over.” Elizabeth caught her husband’s eye as if he knew she were speaking of him. Flashing her a quick, dashing smile, that old Mrs. Gibbons caught as well, she gave a wink to the new mistress.
“You make him smile, that’s a far greater gift than most this time of year. You two will do well.” The older woman nodded and dismissed herself, rejoining the party at large. Elizabeth was left feeling confused, but happy all the same. As Mr. Hampton began playing games with the children, Lizzie laughed and decided this would become a yearly tradition at Pemberley for so long as she decided the schedule.
Agatha Kensington clutched her worn travel case of belongings closely to her chest as the post-chaise guard gruffly handed her down from the carriage. Her trunk soon followed, unceremoniously cast onto the dirt road thankfully hardened from the lack of rain and chilly weather of late.
“This not be Rosings! I demand you take me to the house proper!” The older woman, worse for the wear of traveling three to a bench the entire way from London, faltered in pressing any semblance of dignity to the driver.
“Ye carry yer lot up the road a turn and there be the fancy house.” He waited for the carriage door to close from an arm inside then urged the horses on.
Allowing herself a pout as the carriage rolled away, Agatha held little choice but to pick up a side of her trunk and begin heaving it up the road. Her progress slow, she prayed a wagon or delivery would pass her and relieve her plight, but none came. Over an hour later, she reached the grand estate and knocked tiredly on the servants’ side door. A wisp of a girl in her teens opened it; her eyes widened at the frightful sight of Mrs. Kensington.
“Sorry, ma’am, the house has no positions available.” The young kitchen maid began to close the door on Agatha Kensington’s face when the former housekeeper of Darcy House in London plopped her left boot firmly in the door jamb.
“I am Mrs. Agatha Kensington of Darcy House in London. I insist upon an audience with her ladyship.”
At the family name mention of Lady Catherine’s wealthy nephew, Darcy, the young maid lowered her head and opened the door wider for Mrs. Kensington to enter. The admittance of the stranger into her kitchen attracted the attention of Mrs. Sanders. Not pleased to see that a lowly kitchen maid called Nan would dare to violate the rules of the home, Mrs. Sanders tossed the towel in her hands on the worktable and bustled over.
“Now see here, I know not what you’re selling, but we need none of-“
Agatha Kensington straightened her posture before addressing a woman obviously in charge of the area. “Mrs. Agatha Kensington, housekeeper of Darcy House.”
Once more, merely the name of Darcy changed the reception of Mrs. Kensington. After a message had been sent to her ladyship, the former housekeeper was granted a cup of tea and a few moments to refresh herself.
Kensington carefully considered her one chance at restoring her livelihood. There was no likelihood Lady Catherine de Bourgh could work on that upstart Mrs. Darcy into resuming her employment in London. But as Agatha saw it, Lady Catherine was partly to blame for her loss of position, and she hoped the kindness of the grand lady might provide her a reference for another position. Her personal savings very low, the only thing Agatha Kensington feared was finding herself working until her last day in a filthy workhouse.
Mr. Grant, a handsome male servant of the house whom all knew to be Lady Catherine’s personal manservant, entered the kitchen with a slight hitch to his nose. “Mrs. Kensington, follow me if you please. Leave your belongings, what trifling objects you possess should be safe.” Mr. Grant turned around to disappear from the kitchens just as pompously as he appeared.
Kensington gazed around her at the kitchen staff going about their duties utterly nonplussed at the rudeness of Mr. Grant. Sealing her lips in a firm line, Agatha Kensington rose from the table and marched towards her judge, jury, and executioner.
The estate home of Lady Catherine boasted an abundance of ornate, gilded features. Every surface, every accent, bespoke of a luxurious aesthetic of a time gone by. From years of living in the understated elegance of Darcy homes, as Agatha Kensington followed the manservant she began to find her surroundings quite garish.
Mr. Grant opened two large walnut stained doors to an oriental decorated room with an older gray-haired woman sitting on the far end in an oversized gilded chair. A midnight blue runner provided a direct path to the supreme lady’s feet. Mrs. Kensington entered the room holding the unmistakable impression that she was to pay homage to a rich lady accustomed to holding court.
After a formal curtsy and introduction by Mr. Grant, Agatha Kensington held her tongue as she waited an inordinate amount of time for her ladyship to speak. A man stood in the corner of the room with an exotic bird perched on his gloved arm, mute and unaffected by the room’s occupants. Agatha Kensington began to feel anger bubble up in her veins at being treated with such disdain and attempts of intimidation.
“You introduced yourself to my staff as the housekeeper of my nephew’s home yet my sources tell me you were sacked. Dismissed. Why should I not throw you out of this house at this very instant for such vulgar lies?”
Utterly stunned by her ladyship’s feigned ignorance of the circumstances that led to her dismissal, Kensington’s mouth popped open and shut like a wooden puppet. Finally, she found her voice. “Forgive me, your ladyship, I thought perhaps in coming to Rosings-“
“You thought I should provide you with a position? A servant so willingly to spy against her Master?”
A substantial weight dropped in Kensington’s stomach, and the ludicrously decorated room began to spin. Not one to lose herself over to emotions, Agatha Kensington clenched her fists at her side. “There is more I know that might be of particular interest to your ladyship. And my cousin is still the housekeeper of Matlock House in London. With my connections-“
Lady Catherine de Bourgh waved her hands in the air, jingling far too many rings as they clanged together in a dissonant melody of heavy metals. “There is nothing of interest to me. I am no longer amused; it was a mistake to entertain even your visit.” Mr. Grant moved forward to escort Agatha Kensington out of the room.
Panic overwhelmed Kensington’s senses and just as Mr. Grant reached for her arm to turn her towards the door, she called out her most distressing piece of news in an act of desperation.
“The Earl and Countess of Matlock ceased all deliveries of meat weeks ago to their house in London!” Mr. Grant continued to drag her away as Lady Catherine responded.
“Closing a house in London is of no concern to me, you silly woman. It is done by all of the most elite families for the hunting season and the dismal winter.”
“Yes, but surely elite families do not sell rooms of furnishings when they close a house? Even jewels?” Agatha Kensington cried out, no longer offering absurd deference to her ladyship.
Just as she and Mr. Grant reached the door, the grand lady yelled for them to stop. Mr. Grant sighed and released Mrs. Kensington’s arm, who angrily shook it as if to remove all taint from such an ordeal.
“Come here, woman, I cannot be expected to shout across the room,” Lady Catherine bellowed.
With determination on her face, Agatha Kensington marched forward once more down the midnight blue runner with her head held high. If Lady Catherine were to continue employing her skills, she could not show any weakness now. Reaching the end, she once more awaited for her ladyship to address her first before speaking.
Lady Catherine touched her thumb to her middle finger and then again to her ring finger repetitively, a nervous habit while she carefully thought.
“Are you reporting to me that the Earl of Matlock is retrenching?”
Agatha Kensington smiled for the first time since she had entered the county of Kent.
“Yes, my lady, I am.”
You’ve been reading A Winter Wonder
Confronting her first trials at Pemberley, Elizabeth takes on the tenant Christmas party, sidestepping her mother’s meddling, and finding a way to support the needs of all of her family members. But finding time alone with her husband, Mr. Darcy, in a house full of people is a challenge, even at an estate as large as Pemberley! As old secrets bear fruit, Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth stand united and find support in each other. With a babe on the way, and surprise visitors, there may just be more than one winter wonder to behold.
The fifth season in the Seasons of Serendipity, a historical family saga that imagines how the story of Pride and Prejudice might have changed had Mr. Bennet died of illness before Mr. Collins arrived.
A Winter Wonder, Seasons of Serendipity a Pride and Prejudice novella variation series
Release Date: July 3, 2015
232 pages in print.
+ 23 additional Pride & Prejudice variations are available at these fine retailers . . .
A Jane-of-all-trades, mistress to none! Elizabeth Ann West is the author of 8 novels and 11 novellas, 18 of which are story variations of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice.