Her tears spent, Georgiana lay upon her bed staring uncomprehendingly at the lace canopy. Georgina wished that she could undo what she had witnessed in the hall that mid-morning. However, the image of her friend slinking away from her cousin Richard’s bedchamber in naught but her chemise proved too potent to be imagined away. Georgiana suspected that she had caught Mary leaving from some sort of assignation with Richard. However hard Georgiana tried, she could develop no other explanation for Mary being alone in Richard’s room so improperly dressed.

Yet Georgiana did not want to think so meanly of her friend or her cousin. She knew Mary and understood her character. Richard was her guardian and had always conducted himself with propriety and decorum. Surely nothing too improper had occurred between them. Georgiana concluded that there had to be some sort of understanding between the two. The scene she had witnessed in addition to the other instances of displayed sentiments that Georgiana had noticed only served to turn what she had thought to be paranoia and mere suspicion to irrefutable fact; Richard’s heart was out of her reach.

Richard had always been a favorite of Georgiana’s. When they were children, she looked forward to his visits above that of any other relative. While Fitzwilliam was always a kind and solicitous brother, Richard had been the only one who ever really listened to Georgiana. She felt as if she could tell him everything, no matter how trivial or silly. He would even oblige her in attending her tea parties. Richard was always mindful to conduct himself with the manners befitting a formal tea; never once did he spill his tea or send Georgiana into hysterics by sneaking a frog into the teapot like George sometimes did. After their father passed away and Fitzwilliam changed from brother figure to that of a father, it was Richard who became her source of constancy. He remained her confidante and the one who could always make her smile or laugh at herself, even at her lowest moments.

Following the affair at Ramsgate, Georgiana began to appreciate these qualities of her cousin even more. She had never felt such shame or degradation as when Wickham’s true nature was revealed to her and she began to see the disastrous consequences of her foolhardy actions. Even more so than the possible scorn she would face from society, Georgiana feared losing the love and good opinion of her brother Fitzwilliam and the affection of her cousin. Despite her fears, Fitzwilliam never lost his love for his sister, becoming even more solicitous and attentive than before. However, when Georgiana looked at her brother, she could not help but be reminded of the worry and shame she had brought him by her foolish actions. During Richard’s visits she could somehow forget her heartache and shame.

When Richard was sent away to the Americas when the war broke out, Georgiana thought her heart would break again due to her longing for him. Two long years he had been away. During that time Georgiana had grown and matured, leaving behind her girlish ways to become a woman. With the support of Elizabeth and her aunt, Lady Fitzwilliam, she had been presented at court and thrived during her first season. She was admired and sought after by some of the most eligible bachelors of the ton. However, none of them, even the wealthiest and most titled of her suitors could fill the space Richard had long occupied in her heart. Her brother and sister could not understand why she refused her first offers of marriage and courtship. Georgiana did not think that they would be able to understand that she was saving herself in the hope that Richard would return and offer for her.

Georgiana now thought herself a fool of the highest order. All of her hopes and dreams had been for naught. Instead of returning from the war and asking for her hand, Richard was wooing one whom Georgian had thought of as a dear friend. Georgiana knew not with whom she should be more angry: herself for believing that Richard had loved her as more than a little sister or Mary for capturing his affections in her stead.

***********************************

As the Darcy family Christmas Eve celebrations were put on hold due to the illness of both Colonel Fitzwilliam and young master William, the family of Pemberley resumed their celebrations on the evening of Christmas. Dr. Roberts pronounced Col. Fitzwilliam well enough to join the family for the evening repast, provided that he was kept warm and bundled. Declining the family’s invitation to join their Christmas celebrations, Dr. Roberts left them to rejoin his family in Lambton for what was left of the Christmas season. Mr. Darcy ensured that the doctor was paid handsomely for his services and sent him home with an assortment of rich foodstuffs as an offering of thanks to his wife for sacrificing her husband to them during the holiday.

The Christmas meal was a festive time for the entire household. Everyone dressed with particular care, including young William who looked forward to the opportunity of joining the adults at the evening meal and being allowed to stay awake well past his normal bedtime. April attended to her mistress with a particular sense of glee that evening as she was given free reign to make Mary as pretty as she desired. Comfortable with transitioning from her mourning attire, Mary was easily persuaded to retire her grey and black gowns for the lovely green gown that April had laid out for her, as well as a becoming necklace with an emerald pendant. April adorned her locs with gold pins, leaving a few of the thin dark ropes to hang about her face. Mary could not help but smile at the pleasing picture reflected in the mirror once April’s work was complete. She wondered if Richard would be pleased as well.

As the dinner hour struck, Mary left her chambers to make her way towards the dining room. As was her custom, Mary first went to Georgiana’s room so that they could make their way down together. After waiting for several minutes, Mary became concerned that they would be late for dinner, which would not do. Mary knocked lightly on Georgiana’s door and was surprised when Georgiana’s maid answered and informed her that Georgiana had already departed. Mary wondered at this, as they had always gone down to dinner together. Resolving to worry about it no more, Mary made her way down to the dining room alone. Perhaps Georgiana had just been anxious to meet the family for the Christmas dinner. Mary was certainly anxious to meet one particular gentleman again.

Mary entered the sitting room to find that the entire family had already gathered for the Christmas meal. Everyone looked well in their holiday attire; even little William was taking extra care to behave as a proper gentleman in his fancy coat. Mary spied Georgiana sitting off to the side of the family and made to smile at her friend in greeting. She looked lovely in her pale blue gown. Mary was astonished to find that her friendly smile was not returned. Upon seeing her, Georgiana paled slightly before casting her eyes down towards her lap. Mary’s thoughts on this strange behavior was interrupted by Mr. Darcy’s greeting.

“Wonderful, we are all assembled,” Darcy stated as he moved towards her. He gave Mary a brotherly kiss on the cheek, pronouncing her to be the picture of loveliness. Mary’s cheeks grew warm at this unexpected display, and she cast her eyes downward in embarrassment.

“I find myself in complete agreement,” the Colonel offered as he walked over to join them. “I am sure that I have never seen three lovelier ladies in all of England!” His eyes rested on Mary alone as he said this, a disarming smile on his face.

Mary met the Colonel’s gaze with a warm smile of her own, heat diffusing her cheeks once again. For one that had recently been so ill, Fitzwilliam was in remarkably good looks. Mary had thought that she was not the sort of girl to have her head turned by a red coat, but she could not help but look on Fitzwilliam in his regimentals with admiration. She had never seen a man who looked more handsome.

Mary had not realized she had been staring until she was called to her self by Elizabeth’s discrete cough. Elizabeth suppressed a grin at Mary’s startled reaction before pronouncing that they all retire to dinner. Little William offered his mother his arm, which she laughingly accepted, grasping his little hand in hers. Finding himself supplanted by a younger man, Darcy offered his arm to Georgiana. This left Fitzwilliam with the happy task of offering his arm to Mary, which was accepted with great pleasure.

Darcy watched the scene with some anxiety, noticing the look of happiness on the face of Mary as she placed a gloved hand on the Colonel’s arm, which was affectionately covered by his own hand. Fitzwilliam, who had not ceased staring at Mary like some moonstruck fob since she entered the room, looked down upon her with a look of satisfaction and contentment that unnerved Darcy. As he escorted his sister to dinner, Darcy resolved to pay particular attention to the pair during the course of the evening’s events.

********************************

Colonel Fitzwilliam was pleased to be seated next to Miss Farthington during dinner. She looked particularly well in a fetching green gown with a pleasingly low cut neckline. Fitzwilliam found it particularly difficult during dinner to keep his eyes from slowly venturing towards the décolletage of his dinner mate given the events of that morning. Luckily, Mary seemed to be unaware of his attentions to that particular region of her figure. In order to help cool his ardor, he made sure to engage his young cousins in conversation. Georgiana was unusually quiet during the meal, answering Fitzwilliam’s attempts at conversation in noncommittal phrases. When it was clear that conversation on that score would be fruitless, he turned to chat with William, who sat across from him between his mother and aunt. His wee cousin looked particularly well, as if recent dour events had never occurred. The Colonel took great delight in causing the young boy to dissolve into giggles by sharing colorful stories of his and Darcy’s boyhood.

However, his greatest delight came from conversing with the young lady beside him. When he did not have the good fortune of monopolizing her attentions, he watched her as she conversed with others, committing every turn of her face to memory. He looked forward to the day when he had a superior claim to her looks and smiles. Fitzwilliam would have regarded the meal as perfectly enjoyable but for Georgiana’s silence and the dark looks sent him by his cousin Darcy. Fitzwilliam did not wonder at the meaning of these, although it did serve to damper his hopes that Elizabeth had succeeded in altering Darcy’s opinion on his suit.

After the meal, the entire family retired to the drawing room for more celebrations. The room was decorated in greenery and red ribbons, with a large Yule log burning in the fireplace. Despite the recent events that caused the celebrations to be put on hold, Mrs. Reynolds had been adamant about having the Yule log lit on Christmas Eve as tradition required. As was the custom, the festivities began with the reading of the Christmas story by Darcy. He sat in a large chair with the family Bible and a well-bundled William in his lap. The others gathered on various couches to listen. Fitzwilliam was sure to secure a seat beside Mary for the telling, who dotingly covered his legs with a warm throw.

Following the Christmas story, the family exchanged gifts. Little William looked forward to this portion of the festivities most of all. His eyes grew as wide as saucers as he began to unwrap the small pile of presents that was set before him. The full extent of his mirth was unleashed as he unwrapped a smart wooden shield painted in bright colors of orange and red along with a toy sword. William launched himself into his father’s arms repeating his most earnest thanks as he hugged him tightly. Darcy returned the boys embrace while laughing cheerfully. While he strove to impart to his son the importance of maintaining a gentlemanly comportment, Darcy could not help but be amused at his son’s unsuppressed joy. Elizabeth laughed at the sight, and bent low to receive her kiss of thanks as well.

“We felt that no knight could be without his sword and shield,” Elizabeth explained as she ruffled her son’s dark curls, “How else are you to protect your kingdom from dragons and fell beasts?”

To accompany his sword and shield, his cousin Fitzwilliam presented young William with his own mount. Well, to be more precise, it was merely a stick horse, but from William’s delight in the object, it was clear that the young boy would not quibble over such a distinction.

“Now, all that remains is for you to be knighted by your Queen,” Mr. Darcy announced, to the amusement of all. Mary watched with delight as the little boy knelt before his mother to be knighted with the wooden sword. Upon officially being dubbed Sir Little Bits of Pemberley, William leapt from his position on the floor to claim his knightly accoutrements and to begin his duty. As William rode his horse about the sitting room, the other members of the household exchanged gifts among themselves.

Mary sat and wistfully watched the scene unfold before her. In all of the excitement and anxiety of the past few days she did not have much time to think upon the import of the season. This was her first Christmas without her father. Those celebrations spent with him had not been so different from this celebration. She would share a meal with her father, one that she had cooked with her own hands once she was old enough, as the servants were all given the day off to spend with their own families. As cooking was not an activity she was often privy to, the meals were simple, yet hearty. A roasted chicken with vegetables and fresh bread followed by a pie was the extent of their meal. Afterwards they would sing carols together and exchange simple gifts by the fire. While Lord Farthington possessed great wealth, he was careful not to spoil his daughter with an abundance of fine gifts.

The gifts Mary received this year were very fine. Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy gifted her with a new ruby broach and ear fobs as well as a fine set of drawing papers and charcoals. Having noted her drawings in her journal, Mr. Darcy thought she might like to develop her skills with a drawing master once they returned to London. Mary accepted these gifts with great delight. Her own gifts to her guardians were simple in comparison. To Elizabeth, Mary gave a comb inlaid with mother of pearl that she had found in a shop in Lambton. To Mr. Darcy, Mary gave a leather bound book set on the Napoleonic wars. These gifts were received with great delight as neither had expected to receive any gifts from their charge.

Georgiana quietly presented Mary with her present of silk bookmarkers. Mary was delighted with the gift as it was just what she needed. Her thanks were accepted coolly, her tight hug of gratitude unreturned. Mary knew not what to make of this. Her gift of music to Georgiana was accepted with equal coolness. Mary continued to be confused by the behavior of her friend and resolved to discover the cause of her peculiar behavior as soon as they had a moment alone.

Mary’s contemplations on Georgiana’s behavior were interrupted by Colonel Fitzwilliam’s quiet approach. Mary greeted his interruption with a warm smile. She observed that both of his hands were held behind his back and he wore a sly grin.

“Can you guess what I have hidden behind my back, princess?” he queried once he reached her.

“A gift for me, perhaps?” Mary answered, answering his grin with one of her own.

“I marvel at your perceptiveness,” he replied laughingly as he brought a small wrapped box from behind his back. He gave the room a quick cursory glance to ensure they were not being observed before holding the box out to her. As she reached out to accept it, Fitzwilliam caught her hand and pulled her closer to him. “I would ask one favor of you, Mary,” he whispered to her, “I would that you refrain from opening this small token until we meet tonight in the solarium a quarter hour after all have retired. Say that you will meet me?”

Mary bit her lip before nodding her agreement. This was met with a wide smile on Fitzwilliam’s part. After maneuvering themselves towards a corner where their conversation would be less observed, Mary presented him with his present, which required no waiting on his part.

“I knew not what to give to you,” Mary began as she handed Fitzwilliam a wrapped parcel. She nearly faltered at the darkened look of passion she saw in his eyes. “However, I could not see your use for baubles or ornamental things. So, I felt that I would give you that which I really desired to give. I hope it is to your liking.”

Fitzwilliam carefully unwrapped the parcel to find a small book of Shakespeare’s sonnets. He noticed that there was a piece of paper jutting out just beyond the pages of the book. He opened the tome and noted where the paper was placed. Fitzwilliam’s heart swelled at the discovery. Closing the tome, Fitzwilliam brought Mary’s hand to his lips and lightly brushed the back of it with a gentle kiss.

“I thank you, Miss Farthington,” Fitzwilliam said loud enough to be overheard. “It is just the gift that I desired.”

Mary smiled warmly before indicating that it would be best to rejoin the others. Elizabeth watched their return with great interest, her joy at the obvious intimacy between the two written on her features. Darcy, however, watched the proceedings with a wary feeling. It was growing more apparent to him that his earlier discussion with his cousin had gone unheeded and that his cousin had taken to wooing Mary under his very door against his wishes. However, what he found even more troubling was Mary’s growing regard for Fitzwilliam. Unlike some women of his acquaintance, her feelings could be plainly read upon her features. All night her features plainly betrayed her deepening infatuation with Fitzwilliam. Darcy knew that if certain steps were not taken soon, the pain he had hoped to shield her from would be unavoidable.

After the exchanging of gifts, the family sang Christmas carols and hymns while partaking of hot-spiced wine and mince meat pies. Georgiana, however, retired soon after the singing began begging fatigue. Elizabeth raised a speculative eyebrow at the pronouncement, exchanging a worried glance with Darcy. Georgiana’s sullen spirits had not gone unnoticed by her sister. Elizabeth made a note to speak with Georgiana at a later time. It was not until late in the evening when the rest of the household made to retire. Little William had long ago fallen asleep in his mother’s lap, one small hand still clutching a half eaten ginger spice cookie. Despite the events that marked the beginning of their yuletide, all felt that it had been a fine Christmas indeed.

************************************

Mary fingered the ribbon of the small gift box as she sat waiting impatiently for the clock to note the time of her intended rendezvous with Fitzwilliam. Excitement and anticipation knotted within her stomach. She was eager to know what was contained within the small box and even more eager to meet with Fitzwilliam in private. She wondered what he had thought of her gift. At first she thought she had been too brazen in her choice of gift. Mary had folded within the pages of the book of poetry a portrait of herself drawn by her own hand. She wondered if Fitzwilliam had realized the import of the sonnet where she had chosen to place her portrait. Looking again at the box she held in her hand, an earnest hope began to grow within her breast as to what the box contained. Mary eyed the clock on her mantle once more. Much to her displeasure, only five minutes had passed by. Oh! How tortuous the final ten minutes would be!

Fitzwilliam left his chambers and made his way towards the solarium not five minutes after he had retired to his room. No one had seen him on his journey to the solarium. Most of the candles in the halls had been snuffed out necessitating that he bring a candelabra to light his way. Coming to the solarium, Fitzwilliam made to light a few candles in the room before thinking better of it. The moon was shining particularly bright that evening providing sufficient illumination to light Mary’s path once she arrived as well as adding a pleasing atmosphere to the room. Fitzwilliam made his way towards the small fountain in the centre of the room and placed the candelabra on the marble bench there. Fitzwilliam drew in a deep breath which he exhaled smoothly as he turned to look about the room. Yes, this would do perfectly, he thought.

Fitzwilliam sat to collect his thoughts. He was surprised at how nervous he felt as the minutes passed until Mary would come to him. He felt that he had no cause to fear her rejection. She had made her feelings abundantly clear in her gift to him. Still, he found his hands shaking slightly as he eyed his pocket watch. In the distance, Fitzwilliam heard the door to the solarium open. He shot to his feet, nearly causing the candelabra to topple in his haste. Fitzwilliam let out a brief curse as he set the candelabra to rights. A small giggle alerted him to the fact that his clumsiness had not gone unnoticed.

“I do not see what is so humorous, Miss. Farthington,” Fitzwilliam scowled as he faced a grinning Mary. “I could have set myself aflame, and I assure you, that would be no laughing matter.”

Mary made to school her features into a look of contrition. “Forgive me, Colonel Fitzwilliam. You are quite right. It would indeed be a pity to scorch such a lovely red coat.”

Fitzwilliam smiled at this, his attempt at looking dour abandoned. “Did you have any trouble coming here? Were you seen?”

“No. Everyone was quite tired after the festivities. I did have to give April some excuse for my absence. However, she would tell no one.”

“Good,” Fitzwilliam replied before giving her a quick kiss on the lips. He took her hand into his own and gently led her towards a window. “Is it not a beautiful night, Mary?”

Mary turned her gaze from Fitzwilliam’s face to look out the window. The moon was high and exceedingly bright, making the snow covered grounds of Pemberley shine as if someone had sprinkled it with crushed diamonds. It was indeed a beautiful evening. Mary stepped closer to Fitzwilliam and leaned her head back on his shoulder as she voiced her agreement. They remained silent for several minutes looking out over Pemberley and at their image reflected in the glass.

“Do you remember what took place on this spot, Princess?” Fitzwilliam queried, breaking the silence.

“Yes,” Mary answered, a smile tugging at her lips. “This is where we shared our first kiss,” Mary turned towards him, her eyes shining in expectation.

Fitzwilliam cupped her cheek in his hand and slightly dipped his head towards her, placing a lingering kiss on the corner of her mouth.

“Not a week ago I met you here and revealed part of my heart to you. Tonight I wish to show you all,” Fitzwilliam whispered against her cheek, his breath heating her skin. “That morning I told you that I most desired to ask you one particular question but for having won your heart. Do I have it, Princess?”

“It is your own, Richard,” Mary whispered in reply, her eyes never leaving his.

At this, Fitzwilliam claimed her lips again, this time kissing her mouth hungrily. They remained thus for several long moments before breaking apart.

Fitzwilliam rested his forehead upon her own, his voice breathy for want of air, “Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments. Love is not true which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove,” Fitzwilliam paused to kiss away two tears that slid down Mary’s cheeks. “O no! It is an ever-fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken. It is the start to every wandering bark, whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. Love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks,” he paused again to kiss each, “within his bending sickle’s compass come. Love alters not within his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.”

Once he had finished reciting the Bard’s words, Mary reached for him and claimed his lips again. Fitzwilliam laughed as the kiss ended, surprised by her initiative. Fitzwilliam lead Mary to the bench where both the candelabra and the unopened gift box sat. After carefully placing the candelabra on the ground, which caused Mary to snicker softly, Fitzwilliam bid Mary to sit and open the box. Mary complied with gusto. Upon opening the box, Mary discovered an even smaller box tucked within. She looked at Fitzwilliam quizzically, to be answered with a grin and wag of the eyebrows. Mary smiled at his antics before opening the smaller box to reveal a small velvet covered box that left no doubt over what could be found inside. Mary opened the box to find a pair or drop pearl earrings. Mary’s expectant smile faded.

Seeing her disappointment, Fitzwilliam caught her chin and gently urged her to look at him. “Are they not to your liking, Princess? I know that they are not the most grand earrings, but they were the best that Lambton had to offer given a soldier’s salary.”

“No…I mean yes, they are quite lovely Fitzwilliam,” Mary smiled at him in an effort to reassure him. “They are quite beautiful indeed. I could not be more pleased with your gift. Thank you, Richard.”

Fitzwilliam smiled at her, sensing her disappointment and understanding its source. How he would have loved to have gifted her with quite a different sort of jewelry. But for his promise to Elizabeth, he would be down upon his knee at this very moment.

“I wanted to give you these as a sign of my affection for you. I also hoped that you would do me the honor of wearing them at the Twelfth Night Ball where I hope to have the honor of your hand for the first.”

Mary smiled at this request, closing the small velvet box. “I would be delighted, Richard.”

Fitzwilliam answered her acceptance with a kiss upon the lips before standing from the bench.

“The hour grows late, Princess. Perhaps we should make our way back to the family wing?”

“I think it would be best if we left separately, Richard.” Mary answered, her voice shaking slightly. “You go first and I shall follow after a time.”

“Of course,” Fitzwilliam replied as he took her hand and kissed it. “Merry Christmas, Miss. Farthington.”

“Merry Christmas, Col. Fitzwilliam.