On Christmas Eve, Lizzy put a few finishing touches on the gifts she had brought along to her new home, wrapped the items in handkerchiefs she had painstakingly embroidered, tied them with colourful ribbons, and hid the presents away in her dressing room. Anna and Mary had already retired for the night; even so, the girls, who insisted on sharing a room, could still be heard talking and giggling behind closed doors. Elizabeth found her husband at ease in his sitting room, and they were both surprised when a bemused footman informed them a very special delivery had just been received from Mr. Thomas Bennet of Hertfordshire. The servant then handed a letter to Mrs. Darcy, and she excitedly read her father’s words. “Oh my! Fitzwilliam, you must follow me outside to receive Papa’s Christmas gift.” She instructed the footman to bring their coats, hats, and gloves and requested an extra scarf.

As they exited the house, Elizabeth said, “Now wrap this muffler over your eyes in order to not spoil Papa’s surprise. I will guide you along the way.” Lizzy led him in the direction of the stable while she explained, “As you may know, my father breeds hounds for hunting; but even the best bird dog is only good to a certain point. Apparently Papa has successfully crossed a Gordon Castle setter and an English pointer; and, just in time for Christmas, you are now the proud owner of … ” Elizabeth unwrapped the scarf from around Darcy’s face and beckoned a servant to bring the gift closer, “ … ta-da, a point-setter!”

When the wool was pulled from his eyes, Darcy found himself face to face with an adorable male puppy, about ten weeks old. He reached for the little dog and was so totally enraptured he did not notice Elizabeth had left his side until she spoke behind him. “Fitzwilliam, here are the second and third parts of our gift from Papa. This handsome colt is Majeed, which means noble and glorious; he is yours. My filly here is named Sharifa, meaning honest and noble. These sweet-goers are yearling Arabians - twins out of Yasmina, sired by Khaldun Kahleil. Are they not prime bits of blood?”

“They are magnificent! The point-setter pup is magnificent! Your father is magnificent! You are magnificent! My life is magnificent!” He did not care a few servants witnessed his unrestrained enthusiasm. Darcy gently put the point-setter in an unoccupied straw-filled stall, lifted Lizzy off her feet, and spun her around several times.

“You seem to be in extremely high spirits this blessed eve, husband. Merry Christmas, Fitzwilliam.” The newlyweds kissed, oblivious to their smirking audience.

“How can I not be joyful, Elizabeth? Your father already bestowed upon me his most precious gift … your hand in marriage. His generosity is boundless, and I am immeasurably thankful.” He settled his wife back down on the ground and ran his hand down Majeed’s soft grey neck. “Just wait until Fitz sees this beautiful stepper. I am sure he will be positively green with envy over this fine piece of horseflesh.”

“Perhaps not. Papa has also sent another of Kahleil’s progeny, a slightly older colt, to Rosings Park for your cousin. On his instruction, the three horses were dispatched from Hertfordshire and began their travels just after the wedding. Longbourn’s steward despaired his newest worker, Barnaby Colton, would ever earn his keep; however, the young hand has recently proven to be a top-sawyer. Mr. Whitelaw says he has rarely seen anyone handle horses so superbly. I am sure Mr. Colton is quite fagged to death and knocked-up, so I must ensure he is given comfortable quarters and fed well after his journey.” Elizabeth stroked her filly’s soft muzzle and said, “You know, Fitzwilliam, there is a Bedouin legend that goes, ‘ … and Allah took a handful of southerly wind, blew His breath over it, and created the horse. Thou shall fly without wings, and conquer without any sword. Oh, horse!’”

“I had not heard that fable before; but someone once said, ‘To ride a horse is to ride the sky.’ My own personal favourite equestrian quote is from William Shakespeare’s Henry V: ‘When I bestride him, I soar, I am a hawk: he trots the air; the earth sings when he touches it; the basest horn of his hoof is more musical than the pipe of Hermes.’”

“I do admit I oft’ feel that way when cantering across an open field at Longbourn. There are two Arabian proverbs Papa told me. ‘The horse is God’s gift to mankind’ and ‘The wind of heaven is that which blows between a horse’s ears.’”

Darcy was busy thoroughly inspecting the newest additions to his estate’s stable. He expertly ran his hand over each shiny coat; observed posture, muscular development, and spine; checked limbs; and looked into their trusting eyes. Lizzy laughed when he pried Majeed’s lips apart to inspect the colt’s teeth. “Upon my word, Mr. Darcy! Do you not know one must never look a gift horse in the mouth?”

Mr. and Mrs. Darcy, Miss Darcy, and Miss Bennet ventured out on a crisp Christmas morning to attend the parish church on the sacred holiday. The new mistress of Northumbrella was of great interest to the congregation and was introduced to many of those who would be visiting her home on New Year’s Eve.

Mr. and Mrs. Roman Candel and their twins, dark-haired Randall and Miranda, who were only slightly older than Mary and Anna, were invited for an afternoon of ice-skating on Northumbrella’s frozen pond. The Darcys’ bordering neighbours cheerfully accepted.

When the Candel family arrived, skate blades were distributed to one and all; and the party of eight walked the short distance down the lawn to the lake. Darcy fetched the point-setter puppy, which he and Elizabeth had decided to call ‘Balthasar’. They chose the Magi name because the little dog had been one of three gifts from a wise man on Christmas Eve.

Mary Bennet was somewhat bashful at first; but between Balthasar’s comical antics on the slippery surface and the cordiality of Miranda and her fine-looking brother, the ice was almost immediately broken; and those three youths skated circles around the others. Randall Candel was quite smitten with Anna Darcy and tried to be of assistance every time she took a tumble; however, the lad realized he was skating on thin ice when gimlet-eyed Darcy scowled at such actions. Elizabeth gracefully glided over to her husband and said, “Fitzwilliam, you could be a good brother and a-sist-her too; the poor fellow is rather taken with Anna and in some way reminds me of a certain cork-brained mooncalf with whom I was once acquainted. In your own words, you were a blushing, stammering schoolboy with a crush. My dear, the young man obviously wishes to embrace your sister. But, as I am sure you agree, no one could ever hold a Candel to a Darcy!” She giggled and skated away just as Darcy’s feet flew out from beneath him.

Fitzwilliam tried to catch his lovely, teasing wife; but similar to his sister, Northumbrella’s master was not a great proficient on blades. He had already taken more than a few spills and was somewhat irked his graceful spouse had no difficulty keeping her feet under good regulation. His mood was not improved when he tumbled yet again; and Lizzy skated in close proximity to inquire, “Are you not tired of sitting down, Fitzwilliam?” The next time he lost his balance, Darcy landed hard on his backside and hoped his wife had not noticed; however, she was, of course, instantly there to offer invaluable assistance. “Would you like some ice for that, sir?” Elizabeth did lend a hand so he could regain his feet and his pride, and she spent the remainder of the afternoon skating arm-in-arm with her unbalanced husband.

When they all had an adequate amount of fresh air, exercise, tired ankles, sore backsides, and teasing, the chilled skaters returned to the house for an assortment of favourite brews. Lizzy ordered a variety of sweets and pastries, tea, coffee, hot chocolate, mulled cider, and Mrs. Cringlewood’s delicious wassail of ale, sugar, ginger, nutmeg and cinnamon. As soon as the fire and hot drinks had warmed one and all, Mrs. Darcy suggested they gather around the pianoforte to sing Christmas carols; and after Miss Candel, Miss Darcy, and Miss Bennet had all taken turns performing, Fitzwilliam asked Elizabeth to play next. Lizzy merrily agreed but insisted her husband join her for a duet; and since she was the apple of his eye, he mulled it over and sat down be-cider.

The guests had planned to depart before darkness fell but were having such an enjoyable time that daylight had diminished swiftly without anyone’s notice. When servants entered the drawing room to light gas lanterns, Mrs. Candel exclaimed upon the lateness of the hour.

“Mrs. Darcy, we had not intended to encroach on your evening for such an extent. Thank you, my dear, for your splendid hospitality. It was a pleasure to meet you and your charming sister, but we really must be on our way home. Roman, where is that parcel?” Her husband passed her a peculiarly-shaped package wrapped in paper, and Mrs. Candel handed it to her hostess. “Here is a modest gift from our house to yours, Mrs. Darcy. Merry Christmas, and welcome to the neighbourhood.”

Lizzy was at a loss to identify the mysterious glass object she had unwrapped but did not want to appear unappreciative. Initially she thought it was a decanter, but it had a hole in both the top of the slender neck and in the rounded bottom as well. “Thank you, Mr. and Mrs. Candel. It is exquisite, and I am positive we will utilize it regularly … whatever its function.”

“Oh, my dear Mrs. Darcy, you are delightful! It is a toddy lifter made by a talented craftsman in Erethistle.”

Mr. Roman Candel then continued the explanation, “You see, it works similar to a siphon. You simply immerse the bulbous end into the bowl of hot toddy, and the liquid is drawn inside. Once you place your thumb over the hole on top, you can transfer the drink into your glass by releasing your thumb.”