Darcy looked at her with open dislike. “I asked but a simple question and received nothing but mockery in return.”
“Your question is a mockery,” the Spirit answered scornfully, “of all that was shown you this night.” And she began to cackle. “A life you richly deserve.”
Anger coursed through Darcy. He gazed hotly at the figure before, now seated on an opposing headstone. He lunged at her, crying out, “I will not live such a life, do you hear me!” as her laughing grew louder. He reached to grab her shoulders, but she was no longer before him and he was falling into blackness.
Chapter 5
The End Of It
Darcy awoke in the bed that was his own in the room that was his own. The morning light was just beginning to filter into the room. Three spirits had come and gone, and his travels and travails with them were over. Past, Present, and Future had all shown him the course he should and must take.
“The Spirits of all three have striven to show me what I already knew within me. The past cannot be changed and while some memories cause pain, others provide comfort; the present requires action, and the future is the best and happiest time of all because the time before me is my own, to make the most of and it will be different—quite different than the one played out before me,” Darcy promised himself. “Father, Heaven, and the Christmas Time Spirits, thank you for being around me last night!
“I know just what to do!” cried Darcy, laughing. He felt lighter than he had in months; happiness that had been so elusive in his life lately had returned, making him feel as merry as a schoolboy, as giddy as a drunken man.
Running to the window, he opened it and gazed at the wonder before him. A layer of pristine snow covered the ground and sparkled in the golden sunlight. The heavenly blue sky made a stunning backdrop to icicles that shone like diamonds. The air was cold but invigorating. It had been a long time since he had taken the time to notice the beauty of a winter morning.
But Darcy did not linger, for there was too much to be done and he was eager to get started. He strode into the sitting room and was now standing there replaying the memories of the evening. “Here is the decanter of brandy and still full!” cried Darcy, starting off again and going round to the fireplace. “There is the door by which the ghost of my father entered! There is the window where I saw the wandering Spirits! There is the corner where the Ghost of Christmas Present sat!” He bent down and retrieved a lone holly leaf. “It is all true; it all happened.”
He was checked in his transports by the sound of church bells ringing out the lustiest peals he had ever heard—clash, clang, hammer, ding, dong, bell. Oh, what a glorious noise!
The door opened and in walked his valet. “Good morning, sir, and a Merry Christmas to you.”
It is Christmas Day! thought Darcy to himself. I have not missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night. They can do anything they like; they are Spirits after all.
“Thank you, Marks, and also to you.”
“Shall I tell Cook to prepare breakfast?”
“No. There is a change of plans. I require my riding gear. Send a message to the stables to ready my horse. I wish to leave within the hour.”
“You wish to go for a morning’s ride?” asked Marks.
“No, I will be traveling to Hertfordshire. Going by horseback will be quicker. You will follow in the carriage on the morrow. Just pack a satchel for overnight.”
Darcy delivered his orders and set about making himself presentable. Shaving was not an easy task, for his hand continued to shake very much and shaving required attention. He dressed himself all in his best.
A boy came in with his cleaned boots.
“Hallo there!”
“Hallo, sir!” returned the boy.
“Do you know Matlock House, in the next street but one, at the corner?” Darcy inquired.
“I should hope I do,” replied the lad.
“I will give you a shilling to deliver a letter there. No, I will give you half-a-crown!”
“A half-a-crown, sir, it is far too much!” protested his valet.
“Nonsense, it is Christmas after all.”
The hand in which he wrote the letter was not a steady one, but write it he did. After giving the lad his letter and coin, he went downstairs to open the street door and watched the lad run down the street. As he stood there, the door knocker caught his attention.
“I shall love it as long as I live!” cried Darcy, patting it with his hand. “I scarcely ever looked at it before. What expression it has in its face! It is a wonderful knocker!”
A groom arrived with his horse from the stable. Straddling his horse, he started the journey into Hertfordshire.
Meanwhile, Georgiana had made her way down into the breakfast parlor. She was alone when the butler handed her a note on a silver platter. The Earl entered the breakfast as Georgiana finished her letter, “Good morning, sir! A Merry Christmas to you!”
“And to you, my dear!” replied the Earl. “Who sends you greetings on Christmas morning if I may ask?”
“It is a letter from Fitzwilliam, sir. He says that he will be unable to join us for Christmas dinner.”
“I am sorry to hear that. Are you greatly disappointed?”
“Oh no, sir. For he says he is going to fulfill my greatest wish for Christmas.”
“And that wish is?” enquired the Earl.
“A new sister, sir. A new sister,” Georgiana returned happily, before taking a sip of hot chocolate, leaving the Earl quite speechless.
Darcy was by this time on the outskirts of London, heading for Netherfield. If the visions of Christmas Present were true, he would find Elizabeth there.
He did not mind the cold; in truth he barely felt it. His mind was so busy with the images of the previous night that he barely noticed the world around him. The sound of the horse’s hooves hitting the cold ground penetrated his thoughts occasionally. He would smile, for each step brought him closer to Elizabeth.
Finally, in the afternoon, he arrived at Netherfield. A groom rushed out to take the horse. Darcy patted the horse on the neck, thanking him for making the journey as quickly as he had. “Give him a good rub down, some extra oats, and an apple if you can find one.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the groom. Darcy tossed him a coin.
“And a Merry Christmas.”
“Thank you, sir.”
He looked up to the window and spied Elizabeth gazing out the window. He had never dreamed that any ride could give him so much happiness. He turned to go up the steps of Bingley’s house but stopped. Instead, he turned to the window and, realizing that Elizabeth had spotted him, he pointed to her, then to himself, and out to the winter-cloaked garden, silently asking her to meet him there.
He saw Elizabeth nod from the window. Eagerly, he strode into the garden.
Elizabeth was filled with gladness when she saw Darcy arrive. When he silently asked to be met in the garden, she could only nod, for the rest of her seemed frozen in place. Only when she saw him stride away did she regain movement. She began to move to the door.
“Where do you think you are going?” Mrs. Bennet asked.
“I am going for a walk in the gardens. The room is overheated and a walk would do me some good.”
“It would do you some good to stay and talk with Mr. Topper. He has almost three thousand a year! And he has shown an interest in you!” cried Mrs. Bennet.
Curious, Bingley looked out the window, and recognizing the horse his groom was leading away, said, “I do believe some fresh air would do you a world of good, Elizabeth.” He quickly made his way to the door and opened it for her.
“I hope so, Charles, I hope so,” replied Elizabeth, as she left the room. Outside the room she raced down the stairs and ran down the hall to the doorway, only skidding to a halt when she saw a footman with her cloak, gloves, and bonnet. Hastily putting on these outer garments, she hurried into the garden where Darcy was waiting and pacing.