Christmas with Mr Darcy

Happy Christmas everyone!

I've recently finished writing Mr Darcy's Secret, which is to be published by Sourcebooks. Here's a small extract with a festive theme. Elizabeth Bennet is married to Mr Darcy and is welcoming her family for the Christmas season to Pemberley for the first time, not without some trepidation!

Christmas Eve and the arrival of the Bennets and Bingleys to Pemberley marked the official start to the festive season. Elizabeth was pleased and surprised at her own feelings on firstly welcoming her parents and two of her sisters, Mary and Kitty, to her new home. For all her newfound happiness and exultation in the success of her marriage, she had not realised until coming face to face with them again, how much she had missed them. It was especially heartening to see her papa again and as he hugged her until she thought she might have no breath left, her feelings took her by surprise. The resulting misting of her eyes she quickly brushed away before his notice provoked a comment.

“I am very glad to see you, Elizabeth, and for this invitation from you and your husband, we are very grateful,” he said, standing back at arm’s length to admire the daughter he loved best. “I have missed you and it does my heart good to see you looking so well.”

Mrs Bennet was, for once, struck quite dumb on their entrance into the hall and did not utter a syllable for the first ten minutes. Her eyes darted everywhere, alighting on the marble floors, staring at the grand curving staircases, the statues in the niches and the paintings adorning the walls and the ceiling. She looked almost frightened and had such an appearance of stupefied shock upon her countenance that Lizzy felt quite concerned.

“Are you quite well, mama?” asked Elizabeth, taking her mother’s hand and rubbing it between her own. “Indeed, you do look very tired. But the journey is such a long one, I know. Come inside and get warm by the fire.”

Mrs Bennet shook her head and spoke at last. “I am astonished, Lizzy. I knew Pemberley must be a great house, but I never expected this; not in all my born days did I expect to see such opulence, such finery! The floor alone must be worth a mint, not to mention the gilded balustrades, the paintings and statues, the drapes, the chairs and settees, and I know not what. And this is only the hall! Lord bless me! I shall have to sit down. And as for the grounds, I thought Christmas would be over before we arrived, so long did it take to get from the road to the house. What a prospect! The finest house, the grandest park, the most magnificent hall that I ever did see. What a pity that Lydia cannot be with us to see it. I know she would have loved to see Pemberley, and dear Wickham too. I’m sure he would have enjoyed seeing his former home.”

“But, mama, though I admire your feelings of benevolence in consideration of Mr and Mrs Wickham’s lack of invitation,” observed Mary, who loved to reflect and sermonize on the folly of others, “in my opinion, such deliberation is ill conceived. If you dwell for just one moment on the real likelihood of such a summons to our misguided sister and her husband from Mr Darcy who we know to be a rational man, you must also know it to be highly improbable.”

“Oh, Mary, hold your tongue. Mrs Wickham can come to Pemberley whenever she likes, whatever you might think on the matter,” rejoined Mrs Bennet loudly, with an expression of exasperation.

Mrs Gardiner advanced quickly to reach Mrs Bennet’s side to greet her and divert the course of conversation just as Mr Darcy entered the hall to welcome his guests. He had thought it prudent to allow Elizabeth a little time with her parents and sisters before he came on the scene. His manners were as impeccable as ever and Mrs Bennet became quite girlish in her manner at his attentions, patting her curls and looking at him under her lashes. When Lizzy was able she could not resist catching her husband’s eye, raising her own heavenwards. She felt such a mixture of pride and love for all that he represented to her, the man who in disposition and talents suited her to perfection.

No sooner were the Bennet family installed dispatched to become acquainted with their rooms over which Mrs Bennet was soon exclaiming, not only at the size, but also at the number assigned to them, than Elizabeth’s sister, Jane Bingley, her husband, and his sister arrived. Never was a reunion more joyful between two sisters who adored one another and who had never before in their lives been separated for so long. Jane still had the glow of a new bride about her and Lizzy was overjoyed to see Bingley again. Elizabeth was not so pleased to see Mr Bingley’s sister Caroline, who had in the past been the cause of a temporary rift between Jane and her husband during their courting days, not only separating them but informing Jane of her wish that her brother be married to Miss Darcy. But she received her with much civility, which in the circumstances was highly gratifying, as she recalled with a certain glee that Caroline had at one time fancied that she might take on the role of the mistress of Pemberley herself. How very satisfying it was to be addressed by Caroline Bingley as Mrs Darcy.

“My dear, Mrs Darcy, how splendid it is to see you again. It is exceedingly kind of you to invite me to Pemberley for Christmas, which, as I am sure you have heard is always unsurpassed in both hospitality, and by its splendour.” She turned to Mr Darcy who was regarding her with what Elizabeth had come to recognise as the expression he reserved for those he could not tolerate; a look of polite indifference, but happily, undetected by the person on whom it was bestowed. “Oh, Mr Darcy, we have enjoyed one or two merry Christmases together, have we not? Such parties and balls, that I have been quite spoiled forever. I do not think I shall ever enjoy such entertainments again. But, forgive me, Mrs Darcy, you are hosting a grand ball on the morrow, are you not? What felicities we shall enjoy, I cannot wonder. Do you remember, Mr Darcy, when Reynolds fetched out the old fancy costumes from the attic and we dressed up? I thought I should die laughing when I saw you as Robin Hood and I was Little Bo-Peep, as I hark back. What fun we had. Do you recall, Georgiana? You were the sweetest lamb, all in white with a pink ribbon on your tail.”

Miss Bingley, having found a willing listener in Georgiana immediately led her away talking at the top of her voice about the wondrous parties of the past.

Elizabeth was starting to feel quite sick with nerves at the prospect of the coming ball. She did so want it to be a success and whispering into Mr Darcy’s ear when the others were busily engaged in directing the servants with their luggage, said, “Oh dear, do you suppose we should have had a fancy costume ball?”

To which came the rapid answer, “Absolutely not. The whole idea was of Miss Bingley’s engineering and I loathed every minute of it. I absolutely forbid fancy costume balls to be held at Pemberley ever again!” 

I hope you and your families all have a wonderful Christmas and holiday season and wish you a very happy and prosperous New Year!
Jane Odiwe

Christmas at Pemberley

Christmas at Pemberley - how would Elizabeth Darcy have coped if all her family descended upon her?
Mr and Mrs Bennet have been behaving uncharacteristically well - Lizzy is completely bemused by her mother who as mother-in-law to the 'great Mr Darcy' as she calls him has become as regal as a queen and determined on liking everyone and everything, even Miss Bingley. This extract is taken from the book I am currently writing - I hope you enjoy it!


To say that Elizabeth was relieved when Christmas dinner was over is something of an understatement. But she was satisfied that the meal had been an excellent one and when washed down by the majority with several glasses of wine, found everyone in congenial spirits for the game of Charades. Mr and Mrs Darcy started, followed by other willing volunteers and soon the assembled guests relaxed and started to have fun. There were some excellent puzzles and even Mrs Bennet began to enjoy herself when it came to her time, delivering hers with what she imagined was an erudite air.
Miss Bingley’s turn came next. She waited until everyone was silent for the greatest, dramatic effect, before she recited her charade by heart.

“My first has the making of honey to charm,
My second brings breakfast to bed on your arm,
My third bores a hole in leather so fine,
While united the whole breaks the heart most kind.”

She looked around the table with a smirk upon her face and played with her bracelets as if she must find another amusement to keep her occupied from waiting for answers, which surely would never come. Charades were her speciality, she knew, and surely this dull company did not have a clue.

Mrs Bennet piped up immediately speaking in the revered tones she had adopted since stepping over the Pemberley threshold. “Bees and honey go together rather well to my mind, Miss Bingley. I think ‘my first’ is a bee.”

“Well done, Mrs Bennet,” cried Mr Darcy, hardly able to keep the astonishment from his voice, “I am sure you are right, an excellent thought.”
Mrs Bennet instantly flushed as scarlet as the berries on the holly leaves adorning the portraits. She directed her best smile at her son-in-law patting her curls in a girlish manner when she thought he looked at her.

Kitty was next to surprise everyone as she proclaimed that ‘the second’ was a tray, and before they could even worry over ‘the third’, Mr Bennet declared he knew the complete answer to the riddle.

“Miss Bingley, I have found you out,” he said, raising his glass to her across the table. “Duplicity, falseness and treachery are your game, are they not?”

Miss Bingley held his studied gaze over the table and did not flinch. Elizabeth held her breath. What on earth was her father saying?

Mr Bennet smiled reassuringly at his daughter before delivering the solution with triumph. “The word ‘Betrayal’ is the answer to your charade, I think.”

For the first time Elizabeth felt some discomfort. She knew her father too well to imagine that his remarks were not given without his intentions being satirical. She knew exactly what he thought of Miss Bingley and of her mistreatment of Jane. But she need not have worried, Miss Bingley seemed not to notice, graciously accepting her defeat and when Mrs Bennet declared how clever Miss Bingley was to devise such a riddle, the latter fairly glowed with pride, and almost, but not quite, returned the compliment.

“I am so pleased you enjoy charades as well as we do here at Pemberley, Mrs Bennet,” she said. “It is an old tradition that I believe our host started in his youth. But, as long as I have been coming here I do not think I ever heard of a charade based on betrayal, although the very word has such connotations that I will forever associate with Pemberley. Mr Darcy, what do you think?”

Mr Darcy looked rather discomposed for a moment. “I cannot think to what you refer, madam,” came his answer and his expression, which formerly had been congenial immediately altered to one of haughty disdain.

“You remember, Mr Darcy, I am sure, though it is a long time since,” said Miss Bingley, who to all intents and purposes was smiling at him. “I can never think of that word without summoning up a picture in my mind of the theatricals we used to put on at Christmas. Shakespeare: love and betrayal, his universal themes. You must remember when we did Twelfth Night. You were Duke Orsini and I was Olivia. How you pined for me!”

Elizabeth was all attention. Her heart began hammering as she recollected the letter she had found in the library. So, Fitzwilliam had played Orsini, but it did not follow, she reasoned, that the Orsini implicated in the letter was her husband. There had probably been hundreds of theatricals over the years, and in any case, the letter’s recipient might have nothing to do with any of it. She waited to see his response.

“My dear Caroline, I can barely recall such an event, and I must admit, although I can remember being dressed up for many a part in my youth, the particulars escape me. Tell me, was I any good?”

This brought a laugh to echo round the room. Mr Darcy stood up and with a mock bow announced that as there were scarcely two hours left before the dancing was due to begin, that they might all wish to repair to their rooms for restoration and preparation.

In her dressing room Elizabeth prepared for the ball and though the looking glass told her that she had never felt more pleased by her appearance, her feelings were in turmoil. Caroline Bingley, it had to be said, always had the power to make her think irrationally and tonight was no exception. That lady’s allusions to the past, to a time before Elizabeth had known her husband, made her feel not only uncomfortable, but also quite envious. It was silly, she knew, but she must admit a certain jealousy when she thought about all the Christmases he must have spent in the company of Caroline Bingley and every other young woman in the vicinity.

“I know very little about my husband,” she thought. “I know he was never in love with Caroline Bingley, but does that mean that he was never in love with anyone before he met me? I have not considered such a thing before today, but I am certain that a man does not reach the age of twenty nine without experiencing an affection or infatuation, or maybe something more.”

Could the letter she found implicate her husband in some way, she considered for the first time? Lizzy did not want to think about it, but she felt sure that her mind would be put at rest with just one more enquiry. For now, she would forget about it and concentrate on the matter in hand. She scrutinised her reflection with a critical eye, but was satisfied enough to smile at the young woman who stared back at her. Elizabeth’s gown of white sarcenet fitted beautifully; accentuating her slight and graceful form, with her headdress of lace and feathers, further emphasising her colouring, her skin and hair dark as a gypsy.
There came a soft knock upon the door and when she called out, expecting to see her maid, she was delighted to find her husband instead. He carried her jewel boxes and before long he had assisted Elizabeth with their fastenings, performing this simple task in such a way as made her feel that she must be very precious as he lingered over adjusting the diamonds in her ears, placing her necklace just so and holding her hand in the gentlest manner to slide her ring onto her finger. When he had finished he stood back to look at her with such an expression of love in his eyes that Elizabeth could hardly meet them with her own.

“I love you, Mrs Darcy,” he said, leaning forward to kiss her lips. “Come, let us go, it is time to open the best Christmas ball Pemberley has ever seen.”

Happy Christmas Everyone
Jane Odiwe