P&P:TUS Darcy on Boxing Day

Holiday socializing takes its toll on Darcy

December 26, 1811

Darcy fought his luxurious sheets, blankets and counterpane as he tossed and turned on the high, four poster bed of his chambers at Darcy House. His London abode was quite as comfortable as Pemberley, and there was no good reason for his disquiet.

No good reason, though, did not mean no reason at all.

Sleep did not come easily. It rarely did after so large a social gathering. That was not precisely unusual. But rarely did he have to resort to a second glass of brandy to coax him into slumber. But needs must and he padded from his bed to the decanter on his dressing table to pour himself a generous second serving.

The next morning, he slept well past his customary time. By the time he was dressed and in his study, the housekeeper was receiving the tradesmen and handing out parcels for Boxing Day.

The maid came in with a breakfast tray, which included the newspaper. Darcy poured himself a cup of coffee and settled into his favorite chair with his paper. He scanned for something of interest.

Theater announcements noted the opening of a new panto, Harlequin and Cinderella. Mother would have enjoyed that one. She probably would have insisted Father acquire tickets the day after Boxing Day.

“But why not on Boxing Day?” young Darcy asked.

“If for no other reason than to help you develop patience, Fitzwilliam.” She kissed the top of his head and straightened the ruffled collar of his skeleton suit.

“I do not like patience, Mama.”

“That is all right dear, none of us do. But it is an important virtue nonetheless. In any case, we have important things to do on Boxing Day and will not have time for the theater until afterwards.”

“What must we do?”

“Well, in the morning, the tradesmen will come for their boxes. Then, in the afternoon, we have invited the tenants to the manor for refreshments and games for the children. They shall have their boxes then as well. Then the alms houses of the parish must be visited and those boxes delivered.”

“Why do we do all the bringing of boxes? Does no one bring us a box? That does not seem very fair.”

“Life is not always fair, son. It is our privilege to be able to give in this season rather than receive. We have received so much already; it only seems right.”

He had not understood his mother then, but she had been right. Rarely had Darcy ever truly wanted for anything.

He sipped his coffee and smacked his lips. Perhaps that was what made this dilemma of Miss Elizabeth Bennet so vexing.

No point in dwelling upon it further, though. It would change nothing and further sour his disposition. He pushed up from his chair.

Mother would have instructed him to go and greet some of the tradesmen as they visited. Company held little appeal, but at least this would adhere to a script he understood. That was far less disagreeable than the usual variety of socializing.

He walked back to the kitchen where the housekeeper chatted with two tradesmen enjoying small beer and a platter of bread, cold meat and cheese.

“Mr. Darcy.” She curtsied and the two men rose and bowed.

“Thank you very kindly for the box, sir,” the older of the two men dipped his head again. “The missus has been doing poorly. The victuals and the shawl will go a long way in lifting her spirits.”

“Indeed, sir,” the other man clasped his hands behind his back and rocked on his heels. “Many thanks. The Darcy House is known for its generosity. It be a privilege to be able to say that the cheese at your table comes from my establishment.”

No doubt that same intelligence also improved his sales. Still, there was no harm in it, either. Good work and good merchandise deserved reward.

Darcy forced himself to make the appropriate small talk and remain in the kitchen a full hour whilst several other tradesmen came and went. He would have to leave the housekeeper a few pounds extra when he left for Derbyshire. She, too, should be rewarded. Putting all those boxes together according to the needs of the families was no small undertaking.

Mother had taken such care with the task, it was the privilege of the estate’s mistress to do so, she had said.

Did Miss Elizabeth enjoy the task at Longbourn …

No, no, no, that was not a helpful thought at all. He pressed his temple and shook his head as he left the kitchen and stalked back toward the study. The maid intercepted him to informed him Bingley had arrived and was waiting in the parlor.

“Good day, Bingley.” Darcy gestured for him to sit down in one of the large leather wingchairs near the fireplace.

“You are looking much better than when you left last night. I am much relieved.” Bingley settled back and crossed one leg over the other. Bingley always managed to look comfortable, if a tad too informal.

“Yes, well, as you see, there is no reason for concern.”

“Are you certain? You did not look at all well—”

“I am entirely well. Is that all you came for?” Darcy glowered.

Bingley laughed. “You know very well that is not the case. Have you forgotten how Caroline is the night after a major social event? She is doubly so when it is an event she has conducted. You would think all the worrying was done and over with the event, but no. She is ever concocting reasons for fear and trepidation: what will people be saying, what might appear in the society pages, would there be invitations extended or will she be snubbed … Good Lord, I cannot imagine why she must worry so. It seems sometimes that she must dearly enjoy to indulge in it so.”

“So, you are taking refuge here to avoid her.”

“Do not think me so ignoble. I bring with me an invitation.”

“Another party? I am surprised that even you and your sister could manage another one so soon.”

“I would be as well. No, it is not another party. I have acquired tickets for the panto, four days from now. When I purchased them, I had every intention of escorting my sister to the theater. But now I find myself in a quandary. I seem to have planned a very important meeting with the banker that same day. I dare not try to convince him to another date.”

If anyone else made such a claim, he would not have believed them. But Bingley …

“I cannot fathom how it is you still do not manage to get your dates straight. You truly must consider hiring a secretary.”

“Yes, yes, well, I will pursue that directly come the new year. In the meantime, there is an extra ticket to the panto. Louisa and Hurst are attending—”

“Then Miss Bingley can attend with them, can she not?”

Bingley sighed. “Yes and no. She can, but she hates to be gooseberry in such a party. She insists the entire event is a waste if there is no fourth to attend with them. Pray, will you escort her?”

Darcy rose and raked his hair, pacing the room. “You put me in a very disagreeable position, you know.”

“I thought you enjoyed the panto.”

“I do, that is not the point.”

“Then enlighten me.” Bingley leaned back and folded his arms across his chest.

“Do you know what happens when I am seen in public, or sometimes even at a private event, with a woman, any woman, who is not related to me?”

Bingley offered his characteristic blank stare and shrugged.

“The gossip begins and, more often than not, it finds its way into the scandal sheets. Speculation begins as to when an offer of marriage might be made and what the terms of the settlement might be.”

“Surely you are exaggerating.”

Darcy whirled on his heel and glared. The look had been known to cow the most stubborn tradesmen and servants, but Bingley hardly blinked.

“It is no exaggeration. Even if it were, there is the problem of the lady in question.”

“Excuse me?” Bingley pressed his elbows into the arms of the chair and sat very straight.

“If I am in the company of a lady at an event, she inevitably imagines far more interest than I intend. Have you not noticed the care I took in Meryton not to excite the expectations of any young lady?”  How well had those efforts worked? What were Elizabeth’s expectations? Did she understand what it meant when he asked her to dance? She was perceptive; surely, she did.

“What, Caroline? You must be joking. Caroline has no interest in you. None whatsoever. You are my friend and nothing else.”

“I am not so convinced.”

“Well, you are wrong. She is not interested in a man who dislikes the pleasures of town and would expect her to remain in the country the better portion of the year. You are entirely safe from her.”

Darcy rolled his eyes.

“Did you not see, even last night? She took no great pains to be with you. She exhibited no jealousy when I introduced you to Lady Agnes. Darcy, truly, you have nothing to fear from Miss Bingley.”

Darcy chewed his lower lip.

“If that is your only objection, put your mind at rest and accept the tickets. Go with them and enjoy yourself. You have been so dour since we left Hertfordshire …” the bright notes left Bingley’s voice, and he sighed. “It will be good for you to go.”

“It will placate your sister, so that you do not have to listen to her continued complaints.”

“Well, yes, that, too. What say you? I cannot believe you have other engagements at present, and it would be a favor to me.”

Darcy grumbled and muttered under his breath.

“With Drury Lane not yet rebuilt, this is your chance to see if another can live up to Grimaldi’s performance of Clown. You’ve always wondered if any might be as striking, yet you never opt to see another. How can you ignore so convenient an opportunity?”

Why did Bingley have to look so like his favorite spaniel?

“Very well. Thank you for your offer. But I insist on meeting your party at the theater. I will not be seen arriving or leaving with an unmarried woman.”

Bingley laughed. “I shall inform Caroline of the conditions of your attendance. She will not be pleased, but she will deem it better than attending alone.”

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