Wednesday, December 10, 2008

A Christmas Novel Passage

by Sharon Lathan
In keeping with the holiday theme, I thought I would post part of the Christmas chapter from my novel, "Mr. and Mrs. Fitzwilliam Darcy ~ Two Shall Become One." I did edit out quite a bit to keep it fairly manageable, but fear it is still rather long. I hope I have not exceeded the allotted limit! This is a taste of the Darcys first Christmas together. Enjoy!

Lizzy did not rouse at the knock to their door but did at the hoarse rumble of Darcy’s voice, felt as well as heard through his chest where her head lay. She stretched and nestled closer to his side, his arms immediately tightening their grip.

“Is it morning already?” she asked sleepily and yawned expansively.

“I fear so.” He nudged her gently, rolling to his side with her in his embrace until he could see her face. “Happy Christmas, Mrs. Darcy,” he murmured with a tender kiss as he stroked her hair.

“Hmmm … Happy Christmas, beloved. Must we rise straight away? Or do we have time to cuddle for a spell?”

“I believe an obligatory episode of Christmas cuddling is in order,” he said with a smile.

With a mixture of joy for the holiday and regret at departing their warm bed, the Darcys embarked upon their day. Lizzy joined her husband in their sitting room, having bathed and dressed, stunning Darcy as she approached in a resplendent gown of cream and emerald green taffeta. Marguerite had once again dressed Elizabeth’s hair elaborately, clips with emeralds and diamonds sparkling nearly as brightly as her fine eyes.

Darcy caught his breath and then smiled expansively. He took her hands, kissing each palm. “Lovely, Mrs. Darcy.”

“Thank you, Mr. Darcy,” She curtseyed. “You are quite dashing as well, husband. I believe Samuel and Marguerite are consorting again.” She laughed, fingering the emerald green waistcoat he wore.

“Heaven forbid we clashed. Come, my love, our guests await and I am famished.”

Traversing corridors and staircases abounding with greenery, ribbons, and candles, along with the surfeit of mistletoe balls, the Lathrops joined the Darcys and the Matlocks, all attired in their holiday finery. Christmas greetings flowed. Georgiana, Col. Fitzwilliam, and the Gardiners were already in the dining room partaking of the fabulous Christmas morning spread. Mrs. Langton had cooked three versions of the traditional Christmas pudding frumenty as well as a vast array of sweet rolls and pastries. Further greetings ensued as Darcy went directly to the coffee and then piled his plate with food, pausing for a tender kiss to Georgiana’s cheek.

“Happy Christmas, brother.”

“Happy Christmas, my dear. All is well, Georgie?”

“Very well. Shall be better still once I open my presents from you,” she teased shyly, earning a raised eyebrow.

“Was I required to supply a present today? Must have slipped my mind.”

She giggled. “Nothing ever slips your mind, brother. I have no fears.”

“Or is it that you have been peeking in the parlor again?” he asked with a stern expression, causing Georgiana to blush and stare intently at her plate. Darcy laughed. “Father was not able to break you of the habit, so I shall not try. Nonetheless, you must bear the anticipation along with the rest of us until after church.”

The modest chapel of Pemberley was an old yet beautiful structure located an easy distance from the manor in a small, unnamed village exclusively for the needs of Pemberley’s workers. In fair weather the family would walk to church. Today, however, although the sky was mostly cloud free, the wind was brisk and snow had covered the ground some two inches deep, so the carriages were employed. Lizzy had previously attended services twice with Darcy since their marriage.

The Pemberley party arrived at the church and was greeted by Mr. Bertram and his wife Sarah. Lizzy liked the elderly couple, Pastor Bertram being a serious quiet man of few words and his wife the quintessential grandmotherly type. Milling about the courtyard were the inhabitants of Pemberley and the nearby communities who attended services here. Naturally Christmas brought forth a substantially larger crowd than normally seen. Lizzy was amused to note Darcy assuming his Master of Pemberley pose, reserved, somewhat aloof, and serious, as he greeted people with a curt nod and isolated comments.

Georgiana, on the arm of her cousin, shyly greeted a number of the wives and children she and Lizzy had met during their visits. Darcy cocked one brow in pleased surprise and smiled faintly.

The church was decorated with holly branches and festive candles. The service itself centered around the birth of Christ, unsurprisingly, with carols and readings from the Holy scriptures as well as a short missive from the Book of Common Prayer and one of John Wesley’s sermons on the Epiphany. To the delight of all, the service ended with a short play recounting the story of Mary and Joseph searching for the elusive inn in Nazareth, live donkey and all, as performed by the children of the parish. It was thoroughly adorable, despite the uncooperative ass and the Christ babe who refused to cease wailing. The entire congregation exited with laughter and smiles of joy.

With extreme effort, Darcy had forced himself not to inundate Lizzy with gifts. He knew she retained a residual discomfort regarding his wealth, their wealth in fact, although she was hesitant to regard it so, and he sensitively acknowledged her delicacy. Therefore, he avoided jewelry or furs or anything else overly expensive, opting for personal items. He bought her books he knew she wanted, a stationery set with her new name printed on the letterhead, two gowns, a shawl of exquisite Chinese silk, and a letter seal with ‘E.D.’ entwined amid the Darcy crest. This latter gift brought tears to her eyes. The combination of her initials boldly and permanently displayed with the ancient family symbol touched her, lending a magnified reality to her station and the history involved. Unfortunately the setting was inappropriate for her to thank him as she wished, so she settled for a dazzling smile and fleeting caress to his hand.

For Darcy, Lizzy felt that luck had been on her side. Marguerite had directed her to a bookstore in Matlock and, after she introduced herself to the owner, he had diligently applied himself to obtaining whatever she wished. Then, while strolling randomly down the sidewalk, she had spied the perfect gift in a shop window. The remaining two purchases had been purposefully sought. Thus, Darcy was jubilant to unwrap three books he coveted: Admiral Horatio Nelson’s Letters and Dispatches, Walter Scott’s Tales of My Landlord, and a volume of poems by Thomas Gray.

“Elizabeth, how did you acquire Tales of My Landlord? It was published not a month ago!”

“I charmed Mr. Stevens. Promised him Mr. Darcy of Pemberley would inform all his friends how accommodating he was. Then I fluttered my lashes.”

Darcy laughed. “Well, however you managed it, I do thank you. This is wonderful.”

Lizzy handed him the smaller gifts: a new dressage horse whip and saddle blanket, and a waistcoat of pale blue to match his eyes, strangely enough the one color he did not already own. Her final gift rendered Darcy speechless. It was an eighteen-inch-tall, intricately carved ebony statue of a rearing stallion with a man mounted. The workmanship was unparalleled.

Darcy sat with mouth fallen open. Lord Matlock and Col. Fitzwilliam leapt from their chairs, converging on Darcy and the statue with combined enthusiasm and expressions of awe.

“Unbelievable!” exclaimed the Earl. “Wherever did you find this, Elizabeth?”

Richard was equally amazed and blurted before Lizzy could respond to Lord Matlock’s inquiry, “It is a Ferrier! You found a piece by Lambert Ferrier in Lambton?”

All eyes were on Lizzy, her husband’s breathtaking in the delight and love they showed. She blushed. “Matlock, actually, at that little shop on Second Street …”

“Landry’s establishment?” Richard interrupted in astonishment and Lizzy nodded. “I have never seen anything of this quality in there.” He whistled sharply. “Fortunate day for you, Darcy. Your wife possesses the luck of the Irish to stumble across a Ferrier in Matlock! Now I am truly jealous of you.” He smiled and winked at Lizzy. Lord Matlock was caressing the statue as if were made of gold, and Darcy continued to stare at her, his eyes teary.

Lizzy was flabbergasted by the response. All Landry had said was that it was a collector’s piece. Lizzy knew little of art, so even if he had told her it was a Ferrier, it would have meant nothing. She only recognized fine craftsmanship in a general way and had been struck mostly by the faint resemblance to Parsifal and her husband in the statue.

She smiled at Darcy. “It surely was blind luck, William, I confess. I merely thought you would appreciate the figure as it mirrors Parsifal and you. I may not particularly care for your horse, but he is an elegant and noble creature … as are you,” she finished in a whisper. Darcy was overwhelmed as the entire room faded from his consciousness. He leaned over, taking his wife’s chin in his fingers, and kissed her lightly. He met her eyes and was further lost. Only the abrupt sound of his uncle clearing his throat broke his concentration, and he blushed scarlet as he pulled away from Lizzy’s lips with effort.

“Yes, well, job well done, Elizabeth, well done,” declared the Earl as he resumed his seat, grinning broadly.

Christmas dinner was served promptly at four. The feast lavishing the table eclipsed the last evening’s repast. There was enough food to satisfy twice as many diners: venison, goose, turkey, an assortment of vegetables, gravies, rare fruits such as oranges and pomegranates imported for the occasion, breads, souse, trifle, fruit and plum cakes, and a variety of pies. The remains of their banquet, as well as from the servants’ feast, which would occur later in the evening, were to be distributed to the two orphanages in the vicinity and the neediest tenants on Boxing Day. The courses were proffered in spaced intervals, allowing time for digestion and conversation.

The weather had deteriorated substantially, with snow swirling and drifting as the wind howled. An after-dinner stroll in the garden was unfeasible and therefore deferred in favor of a ramble through the Sculpture Gallery, Portrait Hall, and conservatory.

Entering the conservatory at the very end of the northern annex was akin to stepping into summer. The snow continued to fall, blanketing the ground and the glass roof, yet the flowers and bushes inside bloomed. The room was perpetually warm and humid, fragrant and colorful. The group impulsively broke up as they strolled among the greenery. Darcy purposefully steered Lizzy to a far corner well concealed by an enormous weeping maple and pulled her into his arms. He held her against his chest and she closed her eyes in happiness, devouring his heat and strength.

“Are you enjoying your first Christmas at Pemberley, my love?” He inquired, resonant voice vibrating in her ear.

“I am enjoying my first Christmas with you, beloved. We could be on the moon and I would be delirious with joy. William, I have not had the opportunity to thank you properly for your gifts.” She tilted her face up to meet his eyes. “The gowns are lovely; the shawl is stunning; you know how I love books; and the stationery set is perfect and useful. Mostly I must tell you how touched I am by the seal. I am a Darcy! I know it is ridiculous, yet I still forget at times. I suppose I have been a Bennet for too long.” She laughed and he smiled.

“Have no fear, Mrs. Darcy, I shall remind you a hundred times a day if need be. I will never allow you to forget you are mine.” He tenderly caressed her cheek, then cupped her face with his hands and lavished light pecks all over her features.

Col. Fitzwilliam’s voice from around the tree successfully quashed any further romantic enticements, sadly. Darcy frowned and scowled at his cousin in annoyance, Richard merely raising one eyebrow and pointedly ignoring him. Lizzy took Georgiana’s arm and, with Lizzy giving her husband an amused glance, the sisters resumed their walk.

“Fine day, Darcy, wouldn’t you agree?” Richard asked with a grin.

“Tremendous,” Darcy replied with dripping sarcasm and Richard laughed.

I hope you liked it! Just a taste. The entire Christmas, as well as the other first months of matrimony for the Darcys, can be read in full by March of 2009. Yeah!!


  1. I love it! As one of those people who wished they could see Darcy and Lizzy after their wedding, I'm glad to see their first Christmas at Pemberley. Very sweet. Well done!!

  2. I just love Christmas celebration passages! Thanks for sharing this one with us.

  3. Thanks for the sneak peek, Sharon!

  4. Fun, and such a lovely Christmas. Thank you for this glimpse into our favorite's lives.

  5. Thanks, Sharon. I can never get enough of the Darcys and can't wait to read the book!

    Robin :)

  6. Great Christmas story, Sharon!
    It's so nice to be visiting Pemberley again! Looking forward to the book.
    There is, however, one thing I'd love to see in a P&P sequel, and that is a little romance with Col. Fitzwilliam. Are there any out there that you know of, or are you planning to write one yourself?

  7. Thank you everyone! Glad you enjoyed it...and did not think it too long!

    Cheryl, one think I focus on is love for all the characters. Mary Bennet and Anne de Bourgh find love in the second book. Caroline Bingley gets 'lucky' in the third. Both Kitty and Col. Fitzwilliam find their soulmates in the fourth (still a WIP). And Georgiana is getting a separate novel all her own to follow her romantic tale! Happily-ever-after for everyone!

  8. Thanks for sharing, Sharon--this is great for the holidays!

  9. This is wonderful, Sharon! How great to see Darcy and Lizzy celebrating Christmas together. I can't wait until March for the rest.


  10. Yes, indeed I do love HEA! Guess that is why I can't stop writing about it, or reading about it in all of your novels! Long live romance and happy endings!

    Thanks ladies for the nice comments. I do appreciate it.

  11. Thank you, Sharon, for this taste . . . which of course left me wanting more. The atmosphere made me wish to go for an old-fashioned sleigh-ride with my own Mr. Darcy.

  12. Ah...simpler, sweeter Christmas times gone by. Glad we get a taste of them through wonderful stories like yours!