Lessons in Honour: A Pride and Prejudice Christmas Story by Pamela Aidan

Author:Pamela Aidan [Aidan, Pamela]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2022-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

Trojan was glad to see Darcy emerge from the old barn. The horse set out for home with a determination that would not be crossed. The wind continued cold as they travelled back to Pemberley, but Darcy hardly noticed until he was within sight of its gates. Warmed by his success at winning a place among the village lads and the unexpected pleasure he’d felt at schooling them in their sword-play, he spent the greater part of his journey wondering at the strange feelings that the girl, Rosamund, had sent ranging through him. He didn’t know what was making him feel all at sixes and sevens. All he could determine was that the flash of intelligence and wit in her dark eyes was wonderful to contemplate.

Relinquishing Trojan’s reins to the stable lad, he trotted off to the house. Mr. Reynolds, faithful to his word, had his bath ready in a trice and within an hour he was dressed and brushed, his hair smoothed back and tied into a neat queue, and pronounced ready to wait upon his mother. Standing there before her door, a queer sensation of dread and guilt at his own animal health worked upon him so that to lift his knuckles to rap upon the door seemed an unthinkable insult. If he could only escape this duty! Immediately, he was ashamed of himself. Duty? He loved his mother, admired her above everything! What was wrong with him? The door opened.

“Fitzwilliam?” Lady Anne stood in the doorway, her hand upon the knob. She smiled at the sight of him and stepped back.

“I thought I heard your footsteps in the hall. Please, come in, my dear. As you can see,” she said, holding out her hand, “everything is prepared.” Darcy stepped for-ward and with a hesitant smile took her hand.

“There now, come and see. I declare, it is a tea to end all teas! And so I told Reynolds.” Lady Anne drew him to her side and then gently propelled him to a low table in her sitting room that fairly groaned with every imaginable delicacy, all of it surmounted by a gleaming silver teapot.

“I heard you were out riding for hours, so you must be uncommonly hungry.”

It was true; although he had not known it until that moment. Bravo, Mrs. Reynolds! he thanked her silently. “Yes, ma’am,” he replied as he looked up at his mother, “quite hungry!”

Lady Anne laughed and hugged him briefly before re-leasing him and taking her seat. Darcy took the chair opposite and availed himself of a plate on which to pile the many tempting bits on display before him.

“Your tea, Fitzwilliam?” Darcy looked up to see Lady Anne holding out his dish of tea. Her arm trembled and some tea splashed over and into the saucer. “Oh!” she exclaimed as he hastened to take it from her. “Pardon my…my clumsiness. How stupid of me!”

“Mother, please,” Darcy protested quietly. “Do not say so! You are only tired.”

“Well, perhaps.” She took up her own tea and relaxed back into her chair with a rueful smile.

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