Before she had time to speak, Jane said, “Lady Catherine, Mama? Why should it matter whether or not Lady Catherine likes my fire?”

“Why, because I have invited her to stay here, of course. We have travelled up from Hertfordshire in the same party. Lady Catherine called in at Lucas Lodge on her way north to visit relatives, something to do with telling Charlotte that she was breeding the wrong sort of poultry, and as the weather was so poor, she was condescending enough to say that we could all travel on together. Two carriages are so much better than one when it snows, you know, for if one is stuck in a snowdrift, then the extra horses can be used to pull it out.”

“Lady Catherine is here?” asked Jane, looking out of the window in expectation of seeing her ladyship’s carriage.

“She is at an inn, not an hour’s drive away. It was as we stopped there to change the horses and take some refreshment that a party of gentlemen came in, telling us that the road further north was completely blocked. They themselves had tried to get through and had had to turn back. Lady Catherine decided that she would have to take rooms at the inn until the weather improved, but I assured her that she would have to do no such thing, for she would be welcome here. I knew you would not mind,” she said to Jane. “You have plenty of room, and Lady Catherine is family, you know.”

“Mama!” said Lizzy. “You had no right to issue an invitation on Jane’s behalf, especially when Jane is not yet recovered.”

“Now, Lizzy, do not take on so, it is not your house, you know, and Jane is delighted. Are you not, Jane?” Mrs. Bennet went on without waiting for Jane to reply. “Besides, Lizzy, Lady Catherine is your aunt. I could not leave her to a lengthy stay in the inn, for who knows when the roads will be clear. I dare say Mr. Darcy, at any rate, is pleased.”

If it was so, then Mr. Darcy hid his pleasure well.

“I had better arrange for a room to be aired,” said Jane.

“Two rooms,” said Mrs. Bennet. “Mr. Collins is with her ladyship. He has a brother nearby, and as he happened to mention it when Lady Catherine was visiting Lucas Lodge, she offered him a place in her carriage so that he could visit his brother without any trouble or expense.”

“I am sorry, my dear,” said Mr. Bennet to Jane. “I was too late to prevent the invitation being issued, and the best I could do was to encourage Lady Catherine to pause for something to eat so that we could arrive here first and give you some warning.”

“Never fear, Papa, Lady Catherine is welcome,” said Jane amicably.

“I did not know that Mr. Collins had a brother,” said Elizabeth, learning this new knowledge with interest.

“Oh, yes, a very fine young man by all accounts, I am sure he is everything that is charming and delightful. And what a good thing for Kitty!” said Mrs. Bennet, looking complacently at Kitty. “I have often wondered what would become of her, but now my mind is at ease.”

The smile left Kitty’s face.

“How can the fact that Mr. Collins has a brother be good for Kitty?” asked Elizabeth in surprise.

“Because Kitty will be able to marry him, of course.”

“No, Mama, I will not marry Mr. Collins’s brother!” said Kitty vehemently.

From the tone of her voice, it was obvious she had heard the suggestion before.

“Of course you will. He is a very eligible gentleman,” said her mother. “You will be delighted with him, no doubt.”

“I will not be delighted with him. I am not delighted with Mr. Collins,” said Kitty stubbornly.

“No one is asking you to be delighted with Mr. Collins; you are not expected to marry Mr. Collins. His brother is no doubt as different from him as you are from Lizzy. I am sure he is everything that is handsome and agreeable.”

“And I am sure he is nothing of the kind,” said Kitty. “I am determined not to marry him!”

“But, only think, my love. When Mr. Collins dies, as I am sure he will before very long—for he eats and drinks a prodigious amount and he will no doubt have an apoplexy before the year is out—his brother will inherit all his worldly possessions, so he will also inherit the entail. Then, when Mr. Bennet dies and you and your husband inherit Longbourn, you, Mary, and I may live there, all three of us together, till the end of our days.”

This prospect did not appear to cheer Kitty, who, instead of smiling with delight, looked as though she was ready to cry.

“There, there,” said Mr. Bennet, patting her hand. “I mean to live for a good long time yet, and neither Mr. Collins nor his brother shall have Longbourn until I am gone.”

Mrs. Bennet opened her mouth but Bingley, with a great deal of tact, silenced her by the simple expedient of offering her a piece of seed cake. She accepted with relish, saying that she was famished, and fell mercifully silent for a full two minutes.

“Then I must have preparations made for our unexpected guests,” said Jane. “Is Charlotte with Lady Catherine too?”

“No,” said Mr. Bennet.

“Charlotte very much wanted to accompany her husband, but she felt that it would be better if Mr. Collins went alone, as she did not like to crowd her ladyship in the coach,” said Mrs. Bennet.

Elizabeth’s eyes sparkled and she murmured under her breath, “Sensible Charlotte.”

“Indeed,” said Mr. Bennet, sharing a smile with Lizzy.

“I will tell the housekeeper to ready two rooms,” said Jane.

“Three rooms. Do not forget Mr. Collins’s brother,” said Mrs. Bennet, finishing her cake. “I told Mr. Collins that he must invite his brother to stay as well. He was delighted with the idea and promised to invite him as soon as he saw him. The poor young man is in lodgings close by the inn, and there is nothing more dreary than a Christmas spent in rented rooms.”

“Well,” said Bingley, clapping his hands together good-naturedly, “that is all to the good. I like a large party at Christmas.”

Mr. Bennet gave a dry laugh.

“What did I tell you, Jane? You and your husband are both so amiable that you are being taken advantage of already.”

“In this case, I do not mind my mother’s—”

“Interference?” put in Lizzy.

“Suggestions,” said Jane mildly. “I do not like to think of Lady Catherine being trapped by bad weather in an inn, nor do I like to think of Mr. Collins’s brother spending Christmas alone. We shall be a merry party, I am sure.” She turned to her mother. “Will you not come with me, Mama? I will show you and my sisters to your rooms. I am sure you will want to rest after your journey.”

“Not at all!” said Mrs. Bennet.

“Yes, my love, you will,” said Mr. Bennet firmly. He rose to his feet. “Jane, lead on, my dear.”

Jane led her family out of the room, and Bingley followed.

Elizabeth and Darcy exchanged looks as Mrs. Bennet left the room. Having spent some time away from her mother, Elizabeth had forgotten how tiring she could be.

“So, my aunt, it seems, is to join us. Then we are to have a family Christmas after all,” said Darcy.

“Yes,” said Lizzy. “Full of quarrels and tantrums no doubt! It is a far cry from the Christmas we were expecting at Pemberley. No, do not say it!”

“Say what?” enquired Darcy wickedly.

“That I have only myself to blame! That we could have stayed at Pemberley quietly.”

“But then we would not have seen little Charles, and you would not have been able to speak to your sister.”

“No, you are right. I do not regret it. We do not have to spend every minute of every day with them, after all. I love my family dearly but there are times when it is good to be away from them!” She glanced out of the window, attracted by a gleam of sunshine. “Look, the snow has stopped. Let us go outside. I am longing for a breath of air.”

They wrapped up warmly and were soon outdoors.

“Jane and Charles have a very pretty park here,” said Elizabeth.

She let her eyes wander over the spacious lawns with the sweeping driveway and the shrubbery beyond. Specimen trees were dotted here and there, casting patches of blue shadow across the whiteness. The clouds had rolled away and, up above them, the sky was a startling blue.

“If this continues, the snow will soon melt,” said Darcy.

“You sound pleased with the idea,” said Elizabeth teasingly as they strolled down the paths. “Do you mean to tell me you are not delighted with the idea of your aunt’s visit?”

“Other things have delighted me more!” he said, adding, “Such as seeing you so happy.”

He stopped and turned to face her. She was radiant. The sharp winter air had given her cheeks a healthy colour and brought a sparkle to her eyes, so that she was glowing with health.

“I love to be out of doors,” she said. “There is nothing like the feel of the wind on my cheek—unless it is the feel of your hand,” she said saucily.

He drew her to him and stroked her cheek, then, looking down into her eyes, he kissed her.

“We are very near the house,” she said. “Someone might see.”

“The drawing-room looks the other way. Besides, we are married,” he said.

“So we are,” she said, and he kissed her again.

*   *   *

“Do you think your aunt will really stay here for Christmas?” Elizabeth asked Darcy some time later.

The cold had driven them indoors and they had chosen to sit in the library.

“If she has a choice, no, but the weather appears to be worsening and it may be impossible for her to leave.”

“I only hope the weather does not mean that Jane has to cancel the ball. I know that she is looking forward to it.”

“It is still a few days hence, and travelling a few miles to a private ball is not the same as travelling across the country,” said Darcy. “It will only take a bright evening to encourage people to leave their firesides, the more so because they will have been deprived of company, and I will sit beside you the entire evening.”

“Thank you, but I have no intention of sitting down all evening; I intend to dance. You look surprised.”

“Nothing you could ever say or do would surprise me! But are you sure it is wise?”

“Wise or not, I intend to do it. I am looking forward to it. I have not danced for months,” she said.

“Then I will make sure Mr. Collins keeps a dance free for you!”

Elizabeth laughed.

“I thank you, but I believe that, if Mr. Collins asks for my hand, I will confess to fatigue and sit the dance out. It was barely tolerable dancing with him at Netherfield. I do not believe I could endure the mortification a second time. Charlotte was very wise to stay at Lucas Lodge. I am sure she is far happier with her baby! A girl for Charlotte, a boy for Jane. I wonder which it will be for us?” she mused, resting her hand on her stomach. “Do you mind?” she asked him.

“No.”

“Not even a little bit? You do, after all, need an heir.”

“A girl will do as well as a boy; in our family it has never mattered. Besides, if we do not have a boy this time, we will have one next time.”

“If there is a next time.”

“Do you not want more children?” he asked, looking at her with interest.

“I will let you know, once I have had this one!” said Lizzy.

She had spoken mischievously, but her words had reminded him of his fears and his brow clouded.

“I wish there were another way or that I could take this from you,” he said seriously.

“What, have the baby for me? You would be the first man in history to do so!”

He smiled, but there was something troubled in his smile.

“If anything should happen to you…”

“Nothing will happen to me,” she said, stroking his hand.

“No, of course not. I just do not like to think of you in pain.”

“Then do not think of it. Think of the ball instead—though, if I cannot escape the attentions of Mr. Collins, you will no doubt have to think of me in pain, and, even worse, see it, for he is sure to step on my toes!”

“That, at least, I can prevent,” said Darcy. “If he claims your hand I will rescue you, I promise you.”

“Will you ride up on a white charger?”

“I brought one with me from Pemberley especially,” he remarked.

Lizzy laughed.

“I am very glad we came,” she said, leaning back against him and smiling contentedly. “It has done me good to see Jane again. In particular, it has done me good to be able to talk to her as it has set my mind at rest on a few things which were worrying me.”

They continued to talk, but as they did so, Darcy continued to be troubled. Elizabeth had had her sister to talk to, but he had talked of his fears to no one. He knew that she would soon be facing an ordeal that neither his wealth nor his position in the world could help her with. Worse, it brought back dark memories of the night of his sister’s birth, when, as a ten-year-old boy, he had wandered, desolate, through the halls of Pemberley, whilst anxious voices had echoed down the corridors.